The late night, transatlantic call: for friendship reasons, purely

When I first arrived in Abu Dhabi, coming up on a year ago now, I was prone to going out a lot, and very late. After spending hours in one of the city's finer hotels, we might converge at someone's hotel room and for awhile, at a friend's pool, to the increasing chagrin of his neighbours. I heard the dawn prayer call more times than I'd like to admit. It was nutty and I can't believe I sustained the pace. (We talk about it now and figure we were all fuelled by a strange relocation-related adrenaline)

Anyway for some reason, even at those astonishing late hours, sleep proved elusive. So I would call one of two friends back in Ottawa, and they would laugh at me on the phone but listen while I talked about all the fun I was having, and also how much this place freaked me out. Then they would tell me stuff I wouldn't remember, and we would have to go over it all again the next time we chatted.

The calls - and ridiculously frequent and late outings - died off. But two nights ago, one of the first I spent sleeping at my new staff apartment, after a birthday celebration for a friend, I found myself amid unpacking chaos, a bit lonely, at loose ends and with itchy dialing fingers. I called the first friend, who was partway through his work day hours behind back in Canada. The other has moved to Australia, and when I caught her, she was well ahead of me already having breakfast, just back from teaching a (very) early yoga class hours.

Finally, as I should have when I walked in the apartment in the first place, I went to bed. My friend in Canada has just told me he loves those calls. Like a booty call, but with the only motive is to hear the voice of a friend, he has dubbed them "frooty" calls.

A few words from a British colleague

Harried and apologetic as she takes another cigarette from a colleague:

"I mean, basically I need 15 fags to do this job."

Things I am pretty sure I would not hear while calling someone on their mobile for a story back in Canada

"Why are you taking charge like this?"

The week in review: I wouldn't eat it either, Mr President, it is just not worth the mid-afternoon post-sugar energy slump

1. Margaret Attwood pulled out of Dubai's upcoming Emirates Airline International Festival of Literature, after learning Geraldine Bedell's The Gulf Between Us - featuring a gay character - was going to be excluded from the festival. She may appear via satellite for a debate on censorship in her role as vice-president of PEN International. I know this is all very serious and important, but I can't help thinking about that special tool the notoriously cranky writer adopted a couple of years ago enabling her to sign her books remotely so as to avoid actual encounters with the fans who love and buy them.

2. Saudi Arabia moves ahead, albeit at a glacial pace, appointing Norah al Fayez as deputy education minister. It is the highest government post ever attained by a woman. Letting women drive and putting an end to the guardianship system that keeps them under the control of men? Well, that might take awhile.

3. As the economic downturn continues to hit home in the UAE, the Government passes a law dictating companies cannot make Emiratis redundant, one that will also make it much harder to sack them for other reasons. Feddah Lootah, the director-general of the National Human Resource Development and Employment Authority, explains: "We are not saying Emiratis cannot be sacked, but to sack an Emirati giving the financial crisis as an excuse is not an option." The rest of us, however, can go at any time.

4. I longed to be back in Ottawa in February, which I never thought I would say. But Obama visited the capital and had I not left, I would most likely have been covering the visit in some manner. Regrets, I have a few. Someone even gave him a Beaver Tail - he must have been in the Byward Market – which the president politely said he would have it later. I call him out for lying, as everyone knows there is nothing less appetising than a cold beaver tail. The visit also prompted one of the best Facebook updates I have seen in awhile from a friend who works for the prime minister, who wrote that he "completely understands the brouhaha around the Ottawa airport this morning. It's not every day I go to Iqaluit".

5. I got back out from behind the desk, and I have to say, it feels pretty good.

Tiger Balm, but better

A friend read my tender post about Tiger Balm a couple of weeks ago and brought me back the best present from Thailand today. It's White Monkey Holding Peach Balm. It appears to be a similar product: camphor menthol, eucalyptus oil etc. (Before I becoming ill with this terrible cold I used to smell of Dolce & Gabbana's The One; what a long fall - now it is methysalicylate)

Why it is called White Monkey Holding Peach Balm, I am not sure. But the best part is that the box, as you can see, actually features a picture of a monkey holding a peach (and a woman in a rice paddy with a bull, and two kids playing soccer, and three random insects).

Snap caption: A safe spot to sit

I was wondering if they make a big deal of Valentine's Day here...

...and then I saw this display in Abu Dhabi Mall.