<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397</id><updated>2012-02-16T03:12:41.190-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Desertdame</title><subtitle type='html'>Desert mumblings of an Aussie Chick in the UAE</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>47</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-111475879957620756</id><published>2005-04-29T00:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-29T00:13:19.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No more desert dame</title><summary type='text'>I deserted the desert in favor of cooooooler climes. If you are looking for me i have gone south. alsmost as far as you can get. sand dunes and sea shores but not endless red desert.i will hopefully getting back to blogging at satellite movement but  not more desert dame. http://satellitemovement.blogspot.com/</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/111475879957620756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/111475879957620756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2005/04/no-more-desert-dame.html' title='No more desert dame'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-108013894537666319</id><published>2004-03-24T06:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:09.834-07:00</updated><title type='text'>'Green Community'</title><summary type='text'>Ay Ay Ay Ay AY, So i moved to Dubai and the first job i am doing is site supervision.I am on site in the Green Community, a construction site in the middle of the desert. My company, bar 1 indian woman and 3 philipino secretaries is almost exclusively 300 MEN, arab. Yep, Life is certainly interesting.I get to wander around a ginormous site, checking paving quality, locations of plants, solving </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/108013894537666319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/108013894537666319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2004/03/green-community.html' title='&apos;Green Community&apos;'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-106601847166763234</id><published>2003-10-12T21:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:09.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Livin in the sand</title><summary type='text'>At 6.30 everymorning I get up to walk the dog. We walk about 10 minutes and then Im too 'dog' tired, excuse the pun, to do anything. So I sit down in the sand and let him run free. It is most beautiful, the sand is a little cool, the air is misty and finally with a slight moisture and coolness. Dusty runs to and fro and all over the shop, left right, up down, nose to the ground. Every now and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/106601847166763234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/106601847166763234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/10/livin-in-sand.html' title='Livin in the sand'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-105962659642040315</id><published>2003-07-30T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:09.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Message for Niree</title><summary type='text'>Hi Niree,Well, we are definitely incredibly busy and the more girls in the office the better!!!!!!!  I would send an email together with a PDF folio toshankcox@emirates.net.ae, attention Geoff Sanderson and Justin Meek. Make sure you address it to both of them. Make sure you get onto it pronto because Geoff will be in Australia in a week or two and would probly want to meet you!!!!! I don't </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/105962659642040315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/105962659642040315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/07/message-for-niree.html' title='Message for Niree'/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-105694601417281558</id><published>2003-06-29T21:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:09.875-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> Fast Cars and Shepards Crooks One of the regular sights at the international hotels here in Al Ain is the congregation of shiny expensive, inevitably hotted up, vehicles. Anything from a shiny red ferrari lying low to the ground, prowling along with a local at the wheel, to a pumped up new Chevy truck with overscale mudflaps and whatnots, also with a man in white, a local at the wheel.Last </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/105694601417281558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/105694601417281558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/06/fast-cars-and-shepards-crooks-one-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-95976607</id><published>2003-06-24T03:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:09.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Definition of frustration:You are walking to work, half way between your house and work and a car slows down beside you. It drives, following you, tailing you slowly as you walk, you turn a corner,  it turns a corner. You cross the road, it pulls over to the carparking next to you. The driver winds down the blackened window and leers out at you, you ignore it. You find a way to walk where the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/95976607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/95976607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/06/definition-of-frustration-you-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-95863316</id><published>2003-06-20T07:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:09.905-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>*Plants update: The rosemary can't take the heat, it died.The pennesetum is hanging on, the jasmine is going great guns and the cyperus is struggling. The Sessevium (creepery succulenty thing) looks like it is planning a coup and will with a bit of luck take over the entire balcony.*Heat update:  The western wall of my house gets so hot now I have had to move my makup to a cooler spot. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/95863316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/95863316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/06/plants-update-rosemary-cant-take-heat.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-95778388</id><published>2003-06-17T21:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:09.917-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> Baked Everything I had noticed it was getting hotter, I am getting grumpier, my energy levels are down and nothing seems to be going right. You get in the car where the aircon is going full throttle, and it is almost as hot as outside, you wait for a taxi late at night and there is still a blast of heat. You are outside for 2 minutes and your lips start cracking, your head begins to ache and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/95778388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/95778388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/06/baked-everything-i-had-noticed-it-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-95661546</id><published>2003-06-14T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:09.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> Baking the balconyI have a ginormous balcony, it is almost as big as my apartment, and just recently I started trying to grow some plants on it. Currently there are 5 species.Pennesetum, which is an ornamental  grass with long white flowers, or if it is a different variety there are other colours. I have pink, white and dwarf variety. I also have Jasmine, Rosemary and something called Cyperus,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/95661546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/95661546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/06/baking-balcony-i-have-ginormous-balcony.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-94741296</id><published>2003-05-22T08:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:09.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Being here in the emirates makes the realities of the Iraq war seem so much closer to home, and nowhere is it more poignantly described than at Where is Raed ?.This must be one of the most famous blogs on the web right now, but it is well written and relatively impartial. If you are feeling guilty about having tuned out on the iraq issue and all the newspapers you read have become less and less</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/94741296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/94741296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/05/being-here-in-emirates-makes-realities.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-94485355</id><published>2003-05-16T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:09.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> Carpet Practice The practice of Carpet buying is one of the most interesting cultural events I have participated in here in the UAE. Actually it is a game, a long drawn out strategic game which, when done properly, involves cups of tea and various other random discussions, little tangents here there and everywhere. It also involves a lot of questions and a lot of learning. In just one or two </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/94485355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/94485355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/05/carpet-practice-practice-of-carpet.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-94307614</id><published>2003-05-13T20:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:09.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This is very sobering.My sympathies to those affected. I hope it isn't the start of a trend. Where I live there are very few compounds for expats. People live throughout the community, granted, the emirati's live in slightly more prestigious communities than the rest of us, but everyone else is all mixed in together. I live in a block with Indians,Africans, Egyptians, Syrians and Jordanians.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/94307614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/94307614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/05/this-is-very-sobering.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-93988775</id><published>2003-05-08T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:09.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Where Urban Design and Gardens meet Beduoin’s and the desert, and where we of the new world can learn some lessons and some new values..Throughout the different countries of the new world Landscape Architects and Urban Designers do constant battle to encourage local design languages and a culture which understands the value of well designed public spaces, of gardens and plazas, of well </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/93988775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/93988775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/05/where-urban-design-and-gardens-meet.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-93733173</id><published>2003-05-03T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>  Sand in your lounge room Falconry is a strong UAE tradition, it is such a valued tradition that there are roundabouts with falcon sculptures in the centre. Since I have been here I have met two falconers, one from Belgium and one from South Africa, both of whom worked for the UAE royalty, the sheikh's who rule the roost.These falconer's are slightly nutty chaps from my experience, one lived </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/93733173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/93733173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/05/sand-in-your-lounge-room-falconry-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-93573201</id><published>2003-04-30T20:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> About the Desert Dunes The road to Dubai from Al Ain is relatively straight, it runs through the centre of a corridor of trees which are flanked by high sand dunes, so when the wind picks up it gets very sandy and quite dangerous. The sand is like drifting snow and even makes the same kind of flurries. What is special about the Dunes between Dubai and Al Ain is that they change colour. The </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/93573201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/93573201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/04/about-desert-dunes-road-to-dubai-from.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-93399545</id><published>2003-04-28T07:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A strange smell hit me on the way home today, a smell I haven't smelt for nigh on 8 months. The smell of Flammkuchen, a combination of that oniony smell with cooked dough and that cheesy creamy smell that is part of it. Flammkuchen is a cross between a savoury pancake and a pizza. It is a regional dish from Alsace on the border of France and germany and is absolutely delicious. That I should </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/93399545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/93399545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/04/strange-smell-hit-me-on-way-home-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-93157970</id><published>2003-04-23T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>When I was a kid I used to read horse stories, I think most girls did at some stage or another. Black Beauty is the most well known story, but I used to read a series called The black stallion, with titles such as The black stallion revolts, returns, and so on. I don't remember them as particularly brilliant stories, but they have stuck in my mind so they cant have been that bad. Anyway the main </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/93157970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/93157970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/04/when-i-was-kid-i-used-to-read-horse.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-92841762</id><published>2003-04-18T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> Storms aren't so common in this neck of the woods. Actually I tell a lie, it is monsoonal style rain storms which last for days that are uncommon. Very uncommon. We are talking about , quite literally, a storm occuring like that once in 6 years. Most people I know who have lived here have never witnessed one, and there are those who have left who wish they had. It is more or less the only </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/92841762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/92841762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/04/storms-arent-so-common-in-this-neck-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-92706324</id><published>2003-04-16T02:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.089-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> A morning camel ride In country towns in Australia you often see dogs on the back of utes (pickups). It is a common sight, a dog, often a working dog like a kelpie on the tray in the back of the vehicle, sometimes nose to the wind and barking crazily, or sometimes lazily sitting watching the world wiz by. It is a sight well entrenched in our collective memory. In this part of the world the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/92706324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/92706324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/04/morning-camel-ride-in-country-towns-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-92640901</id><published>2003-04-15T03:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>  The mysterious dissapearance of the mesquite Over the past couple of weeks great numbers of mesquite trees have been progressively dissapearing from roadsides, from parks, from vacant lots around the town. They don't just up and dissapear, teams of men in blue overalls come and chop them down and take them away. No other trees, just the mesquite, or gwaif as they call them here. Opposite my </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/92640901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/92640901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/04/mysterious-dissapearance-of-mesquite.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-92298251</id><published>2003-04-09T09:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am watching the war. That's no news, most of us have at some stage or another. What I am seeing are scenes of a Hussein statue being torn down by an american tank.Even without the silly commentary, I can feel the scene through every pore as if I was there in the  middle of it. The light is the same as it is here, washed out with the light sandy colour, the dust in the air. With that sand to it</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/92298251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/92298251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/04/i-am-watching-war.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-92265423</id><published>2003-04-08T20:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Re-doing roads and roundabouts is a popular pass time in the this town. It is kind of like Frankfurt that way. There are always roads closed and bypasses put up. The road outside my house is now closed. A main 6 lane road through town and they just closed the whole lot of it. The traffic builds up in the side streets and scouting out new detours with traffic building in the other main street. It </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/92265423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/92265423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/04/re-doing-roads-and-roundabouts-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-91477172</id><published>2003-03-27T05:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>While I was walking to work this morning I saw a man wearing leopard skin shoes. They were flat slip on shoes with a hide upper. Of course I cant be sure that they were leopard skin but judging from the size of the spots they couldn't be much else. The man was a tall straight backed striding north african moslem, wearing a little hat and a dish dasha. He looked graceful and proud and a little bit</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/91477172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/91477172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/03/while-i-was-walking-to-work-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-91338204</id><published>2003-03-25T02:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.181-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It’s getting hot. I just walked back to work from lunch, shade chasing like the guy in the Nike? advert. In a couple of weeks I will have to cab it to work in the am, and to the mall for lunch unless I want heat exhaustion. And yet people will work in the outdoors on site all summer, a kind of insanity and abuse I don’t like to think about.It is not even April and we are reaching temperatures </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/91338204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/91338204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/03/its-getting-hot.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-91173547</id><published>2003-03-22T01:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It has rained most of the day today, rain in one of the hottest regions of the world, climatically and, at the moment, politically. When it rains here it rains quietly and floods quickly. There are rarely great rolls of thunder and forks of lightning. I wish there were. If posts on this site are to the minimum at the moment, it is because Im posting more at Satellitemovement. (trying to keep </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/91173547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/91173547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/03/it-has-rained-most-of-day-today-rain-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-91110771</id><published>2003-03-20T23:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> Something Positive I now have pics up on this site, if you look to your right you will see 'desertdamepics'. The first set are actually taken by Ricco Rocha when we were in Oman.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/91110771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/91110771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/03/something-positive-i-now-have-pics-up.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-91036804</id><published>2003-03-19T20:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>19.03.03 Where the sun is setting in the west. Last night I swam in the pool in the evening calm, watching a big golden sun set over the oasis behind the hotel wall, trying to empty my head of the stress of the day. Gradually as my head emptied of work thoughts I become overwhelmed with emotion at the thought of the people in Baghdad. They have so much more to worry about than my petty daily </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/91036804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/91036804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/03/19.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-90634526</id><published>2003-03-12T21:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.235-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>P.S On a positive note, Sheikh Zayed, the very wise and fair man ruling over this country, has taken the  position that the Emirates would like to see the Sad Madman in Baghdad go into exile. In doing so Sheikh Zayed has effectively wrapped a large safety blanket around his country and all that are in it.He is a wise man indeed. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/90634526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/90634526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/03/p.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-90634329</id><published>2003-03-12T21:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.249-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I slept badly. The wind has been blowing hard outside for hours, and the clanging around my apartment, on the roof, against the walls, gives you the impression the apartment is about to blow away.  The wind is blowing across from the south west, filling the air with sand and trash. So I am up early, unable to sleep with all the racket. I leave for work and a fat grey blue BMW pulls up alongside </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/90634329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/90634329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/03/i-slept-badly.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-90354740</id><published>2003-03-08T06:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>*All thoughts of 3 weeks spent in South Africa to be found over at Satellite Movement.com* </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/90354740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/90354740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/03/all-thoughts-of-3-weeks-spent-in-south.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-88413248</id><published>2003-02-01T23:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.272-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I walk out of my house this morning, in my usual semi sleep daze, expecting to be blinded by sunlight,see the usual empty street, and to blindly trot off in the direction of work, past the grundy bins, the bombed out buildings (not literally, but it looks like it), past the mosque, past the maze of taxis and the masses of males that populate the souk (its a market) and around the corner into work</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/88413248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/88413248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/02/i-walk-out-of-my-house-this-morning-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-88250254</id><published>2003-01-29T20:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The sun this evening is a golden ball sinking in a yellow sky, a yellow dusty hazy sky, full of the sand which has been blowing all day. The wind has been buffeting since late last night. I fell asleep to the sound of a clanging against the building, and wondered whether the water tank on the roof above my head would blow off. I am on the fifth floor so the wind up there is even stronger. A </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/88250254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/88250254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/01/sun-this-evening-is-golden-ball-sinking.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-87995468</id><published>2003-01-24T21:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>On  cricket and crickets: while the pakistani guys listen to the cricket, on a cool evening in this permanent summer I walk out of my building to a chorus of crickets. How can such a country so many worlds apart from mine have so many pertinent reminders of home.Maybe it is just a sign of homesickness.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/87995468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/87995468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/01/on-cricket-and-crickets-while-pakistani.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-87896006</id><published>2003-01-23T04:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.344-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>On contrasts:At the dubai shopping festival you can win you can win the most crazy stuff, and the most crazy amount of stuff.You can win a car, actually you can win 5 cars. You can then take that car out on a nice new highway, that has been graded by a gang of men with chisels.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/87896006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/87896006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/01/on-contrasts-at-dubai-shopping-festival.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-87894231</id><published>2003-01-23T03:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.357-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Do the words 'plumbers crack' mean anything to you? Or perhaps the sound of the cricket commentary crackling over a small portable radio on a saturday afternoon in the middle of summer? Perhaps you are sitting out in the backyard having a VB and the sound of a lawn mower is also drifting over the back fence, accompanied by the smell of mown grass? Maybe there is a total fire ban warning being </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/87894231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/87894231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/01/do-words-plumbers-crack-mean-anything.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-86994960</id><published>2003-01-05T22:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> 5 Random points  1.The sun goes down behind the building on the other side of the road, leaving a red glow behind the red Arabic writing of the neon sign on top of the building. The sun goes down behind the building, and then it is dark, sometimes it feels like the world is flat and the end of the world is behind that building. 2.Every second day a cloud of pesticide wafts across the street </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/86994960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/86994960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2003/01/5-random-points-1.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-86727697</id><published>2002-12-30T20:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.382-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Christmas in OmanFact Check: Oman is a country on the Gulf of Oman and the Arabian Sea, it is bordered by Yemen, Saudi Arabia and the UAE, the guys at  Lonely Planet have more info.The first thing I noticed about Oman was that it seemed more friendly than the UAE and that the Omani men wore different headwear. They wear what I assume is a very finely spun woollen head scarf worn like a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/86727697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/86727697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2002/12/christmas-in-oman-fact-check-oman-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-86217321</id><published>2002-12-18T05:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.395-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Around 5.30 every day the sun goes down and the lights come up. It is something you don"t notice so much in other parts of the world. Well at least I never noticed it. The reflective glare of day becomes a soft orangy evening light punctuated by the flashing neon on buildings. You look outside the window one minute and its daylight glare, the next its soft orange, the pink streetlights and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/86217321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/86217321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2002/12/around-5.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-86159679</id><published>2002-12-17T02:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Fossil Valley. It is all about fossils. Amazing fossils. Infact there are so many fossils you begin to wonder what it was like during it's under sea time. Incredibly abundant I would imagine. I spend a morning last weekend out there, that's Friday in the middle east by the way, and was blown a way. Fossil Valley is just over the border in Oman, just past the outskirts of Buraimi. (Got a map </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/86159679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/86159679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2002/12/fossil-valley.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-86108983</id><published>2002-12-16T06:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.417-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sometimes it is 5:00, sometimes it is earlier sometimes later, and after that it is something like 5 times a day. Throughout arabia a melancholy sounding song rings out calling all to prayer, filling the air, sometimes scaring you awake. There is a romance about it, prayer call, Arabia, hot sun, graceful characters and dust everywhere. And then there is the everyday of it, the taxi drivers never </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/86108983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/86108983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2002/12/sometimes-it-is-500-sometimes-it-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-85531371</id><published>2002-12-05T02:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>1  day to go. And then I arrive in that big glossy gold bedecked marble coated airport in the sand. OK, I am exagerating, but it is a huge luxurious airport, with the biggest duty free selection on the planet. Add the white and black gowned people floating around and the whole place has an amazing glamorous feel about it. That uniformity has something beautiful about it, untouchable and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/85531371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/85531371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2002/12/1-day-to-go.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-85246788</id><published>2002-11-29T01:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My new daily newspaper as of next week  The Khaleej Times . I guess my view of the world will be seen very differently from how it has been until now. World news from an Arab perspective. I am looking forward to it, and looking forward to the learning curve. But I think I will try and just learn culturally and not politically. I have a feeling times are to crazy to get naiive with politics. I'll </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/85246788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/85246788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2002/11/my-new-daily-newspaper-as-of-next-week.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-83502642</id><published>2002-10-25T00:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I found this wee poem on  70 South  this morning and it has fresh inspired me to keep exploring this beautiful world inspite of all the ugliness out there. Looking at the photos on the site, and thinking about the photos of Africa I have seen recently I feel so much more positive despite the fact that these last weeks have been particularly terrorising around the world. The poem may be about self</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/83502642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/83502642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2002/10/i-found-this-wee-poem-on-70-south-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-82782761</id><published>2002-10-10T01:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>13 days of work left!!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/82782761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/82782761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2002/10/13-days-of-work-left.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-82730097</id><published>2002-10-09T00:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I have been reading about this Emirati land, and have a lot to learn about it, like how not to offend!, and how to maintain a 'virtuos' reputation. Oh shit, it means more or less that I need to make girlfriends really really fast because if I am seen by myself or with male company too often, well, I graduate to 'loose' 'available' status!. Gee thanks. I think I may just have to go 'wedding ring' </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/82730097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/82730097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2002/10/i-have-been-reading-about-this-emirati.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-82355368</id><published>2002-10-01T01:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.490-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So, just quickly Al-Ain is the name of the town I will be living in. Read about it  ... here  at the lonely planet site.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/82355368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/82355368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2002/10/so-just-quickly-al-ain-is-name-of-town.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823397.post-82317777</id><published>2002-09-30T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T03:09:10.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I quit my job today! I finish work on the 31st of October and will leave for the Emirates around the beginning of December. I know time will fly so I am starting my  desert dialog  now.Check back soonish and I am sure I will have something decent to say about it.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/82317777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3823397/posts/default/82317777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desertdame.blogspot.com/2002/09/i-quit-my-job-today-i-finish-work-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Andrea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17302990839186249103</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
