Murphy also goes after my clients

I work with relocation and help my clients settle into the country.

My job is to make sure they have all they need to start a happy life in bahrain.

This couple had lots of questions, lots of doubts about what to do here, where to take their son. We visited clubs, went to several places and when we least expected puff, my tyre went flat!

46 C outside, and of course we were nowhere near a shade.

I have never changed a tyre in my life.

The client, a gentleman, offered to do it for me. Of course I have manners and said no. I told him to go to the coffee shop across the road and stay there - no negotiation.

Thank God he did not listen to me. He went under the car, checked everything, read the manual and changed the tyre for me.

I have never felt so many emotions all at once. I was delighted, embarassed and grateful. All with the same intensity!

Cliente meu tambem paga mico!

Eu trabalho ajudando recem chegados com a adaptacao ao pais novo. Nos visitamos escolas, escolhemos casa, vamos ao supermercado, tudo o que e necessario pros primeiros meses do pobre coitado que caiu de paraquedas num pais tao diferente.

E esse casal tinha um milhao de duvidas, muitas pergunbtas, uma super sede de aprender o que e que existe por aqui, o que eles podem fazer em Bahrain!

Estamos andando pra ca e pra la, visitando lugares e de repente, puff meu pneu fura.

La fora, um calor de 46 graus. Claro que Murphy nao ia deixar o pneu furar na sombra. O sol de rachar mamona...

Euzinha nunca troquei um pneu na vida, nao estava disposta a comecar agora.

Meu cliente, executivo de uma multinacional, um verdadeiro cavalheiro, se ofereceu pra trocar.

Eu, dama educadissima, disse que de jeito nenhum, imagine so, claro que nao... rezando pra ele ser surdo e trocar o pneu assim mesmo. Nao deu outra, apesar de todos os meus pedidos para que ele fosse prum cafe ali perto, tomar um suco no ar condicionado enquanto eu nao conseguia ajeitar as coisas, ele foi irredutivel: se meteu embaixo do carro, leu o manual, e trocou o bendito pneu pra mim!!

Morri de vergonha, de alegria e de gratidao...tudo ao mesmo tempo!

Off we go again...

Pic stolen from entretantosefinalmentes.blogspot.com

We are moving again.




That's right. In a month, we will leave our house, our neighbors and go to ... I do not know where.


Seriously, I am not joking. We have no idea where we are going.


We don't have a clue what will happen to us after the summer holidays.


You know when you "pause" the DVD?


Our lives are on "pause"at the moment.




 The blender is broken, should we buy another?


But we do not know what will happen tomorrow ...




Let's buy that "thing"we have been wanting forever?


But now?What if we move tomorrow?




Hey, I need to frame these pictures ...


And then get rid of the frames so they don't take space in the suitcases?




Look! This thing is dirt-cheap!


...




You did not understand a thing?


Let me explain:






We grew tired of living in the house where we are (it is a great house, don't get me wrong) but the landlord is always complaining about my parties, the noise that my guests make, complaining my kids use the swimming pool too late, they chat, they laugh, they bring friends over...


He complains about everything!




And recently, the real estate market changed and the property prices have fallen significantly, so we'll probably be able to finda cheaper  house after the holidays.




That aside,, nobody knows for sure what will happen to our lives in Bahrain. It may be that the political situation gets worse and we just have to go. That's unlikely but not impossible, so we do have to consider what would be the plan if the country becomes " unliveable "...
So this is how my life is at the moment: I will pack, send my stuff to storage, and when I return, after the summer hols, I will see what I'll do.


Simple huh?


It seems easier than it is. 


I have to have several plans covered:


Pack as if we are leaving the country? Pack as if we are moving houses? Pack as if we are leaving with suit cases only?
Sell everything we can to avoid a bigger loss?
But who would take care of sales?


And my plants?


And the cars?


And Mia?


And?




So many doubts ... it is driving me crazyyyy!

Empacotando outra vez

Foto roubada do site: nadiateixeirasilveira.blogspot.com

Estamos mais uma vez de mudanca.

Isso mesmo. Daqui a um mes, vamos deixar a nossa casa, os nossos vizinhos e partir para...nao sei onde.

To falando serio, naoe stou de sacanagem com voce nao.

Nem imagino o que vai acontecer conosco depois das ferias de verao.

Sabe quando voce aperta o "pause" do DVD?

Pois a minha vida anda "paused".

Quebrou o liquidificador, vamos comprar outro?

Mas a gente nao sabe o que vai acontecer amanha...

Vamos comprar aquele negocio que a gente precisa ha tanto tempo?

Mas agora? Es e a gente for embora?

Hei, preciso enquadrar essas fotos...

E depois jogar as molduras fora para nao ocupar espaco na mudanca?

Olha! Esse negocio ta baratissimo!!

...

Nao entendeu patavinas?

Eu explico:

Nos nos cansamos de morar na casa onde estamos (que e OTEMA) por que o dono do condominio e um pe no saco e vive reclamando das minhas festas, do barulho que meus convidados fazem, das criancas, dos amigos das criancas, de T U D O!

Ai o mercado imobiliario deu uma guinada e os precos baixaram significativamente, entao nos vamos provavelmente conseguir encontrar outra casa, mais barata depois das ferias.

E no meio desse forrobodo, ninguem sabe ao certo o que vai acontecer com as nossas vidas em Bahrain. Pode ser que tudo vire mesmo de pernas para o alto e a gente simplesmente tenha que ir embora. Isso e pouco provavel, mas nao e impossivel, e e melhor estar com a cabeca feita do que infartar se a coisa ficar preta.

Entao a minha vida esta assim: vou empacotar, mandar as minhas coisas para um deposito, e quando eu voltar, vejo o que eu vou fazer.

Simples ne?

O problema e que parece mais facil do que realmente eh. Nao consegui fazer nenhuma caixa, por que a incerteza me enlouquece.

Empacoto pra levar? Embalo pra mudar em bahrain mesmo? dou tudo e saio correndo? Coloco as coisas a venda, so pra garantir?

Faco caixas distintas? Se a gente ficar aqui, embalo hoje e desembalo em setembro. Se a gente for embora, preciso de caixas distintas: doacoes, vendas e despacho ( nao tem nada a ver com macumba, o Mane...)

Mas quem cuidaria das vendas?

E as  minhas plantas?

E os carros?

E a Mia?

E?

Ai quantas duvidas, quantas incertezas... To ficando maluuuca!

Good Bye Uncle Nelson...

I do not have any photos of my uncle to illustrate this post, but I don't really need one.His image is very clear in my mind and heart. He was so special to me, I do not have to look at his picture to remember all the moments we spent together.

Despite the family ties, we only became close when I was about 11. I went to his house for a visit and stayed for the whole holidays.

My uncle was a controversial guy.

He never claimed to be a saint, never pretended to be one, never expected people to think of him as one.

My uncle drank too much. He gambled. He was a night club owner ( not the family going kind). My uncle had lovers. He encouraged his nephews to go out with prostitutes. He did whatever he wanted and encouraged others to do the same.

And with all the transgressions, and misbehavior, he had the biggest heart in the world. He took care of everyone around him. He gave jobs to however came to him asking for help. he shared his love, his money and his affection.

My uncle has left a huge mark in my life. He showed me you can be a good, caring person without playing by the rules.

My cousing and I, (elder son of Uncle Nelson), were sweethearts. We were 11, 12 years old  and we had this amazing bond. We did everything together, whenever we could.

My aunts were getting worried, we were getting  "too close". That could not be good. Boys and girls need to keep a safe distance.

My uncle would simply put us in his car and take us to work with him, claiming he needed help. At the restaurant, he would give us his best table, and just let us pretend to be customers. i never drunk so many fruit cocktails. I felt I was the most important person in the world, and Sandro and I had a break from everyone else. It was magic.

In our home town, Lindoia, he would give us his car keys. My grandma went crazy everytime he did it, but he would just laugh, say something sweet to her and go back inside.

My grandma and aunties begged me to stop spending time with him, and I never listened.

In one of our car adventures, we got caught by the police and scorted home.

My uncle gave us a lecture in front of the authority, told him  we took the key while he was sleeping.

The sheriff turned around, he threw the key back to Sandro with a very specific recommendation:

- I hope you two idiots learnt your lesson. Don't ever come home scorted by the police again...

We were not even 13 yet.

He took me to Mardi Grass, he left us swim at night. Uncle nelson let us do whatever we wanted to do, as long as we were happy, it was fine by him!

We spent countless nights playing cards, jumping up and down on his sofas, we made a mess in the house, but he never told us off, there was never a frown. If we were having fun, we were doing what we were supposed to.

The lifestyle he chose, finally caught up with him and he lost his money, his business, his wife.One day he was the boss, the next he had nothing.

After I grew up, I have always tried to keep the connection, I always tried to track him down and visit him in the restaurants he was working for.

With a very sharp memory, he remembered the name of those who went to his restaurant, he made a point of chatting with every person who came to his stablishment.

Once I took about 12 people to his restaurant for dinner. Months later, one of these friends went back to the place. As soon as my uncle saw him, he asked:

- Are you still a vegetarian?

 I'm sure lots of people are mourning his departure today. I am sure he left his mark in many lives, not only mine.

Uncle, rest in peace. I will love you forever ...

Tchau Tio Nelson...

Nao tenho nenhuma foto do meu tio pra ilustrar esse post, mas tambem nao preciso de uma. Tenho na memoria e no coracao a imagem nitida desse homem que foi tao especial na minha adolescencia.

Apesar do parentesco, nos so ficamos proximos quando eu tinha uns 11 anos. Fui fazer uma dessas visitas familiares e acabei ficando na casa dele as ferias todas.

Meu tio era um cara controverso.

Nada desse papo de santo. Nunca foi santo, nunca fingiu ser.

Meu tio bebia muito. Jogava a dinheiro. Era dono de boate ( alem de restaurantes). Meu tio tinha amantes. Incentivava os sobrinhos a irem a zona. Fazia tudo errado pros padroes convencionais. Esse meu tio era do balacobaco.

Mas no meio de tanta transgressao, ele tinha o maior coracao do mundo. Ele cuidava de quem quer que fosse, dava empregos para todo mundo, distribuia amor, carinho e dinheiro pra quem estivesse precisando.

Meu tio marcou a minha vida. Me ensinou que voce pode ser uma pessoa boa, sem seguir os 10 mandamentos, sem ler pela cartilha que todo mundo espera que voce leia.

Eu e o meu primo ( filho mais velho do Tio Nelson), eramos namoradinhos. Nos tinhamos 11, 12 anos e faziamos tudo juntos. Sentavamos na mesma poltrona, na mesma cadeira na hora do almoco, iamos a todos os lugares juntos, nao nos desgrudavamos.

E as tias, todas alvorocadas, todas nos nossos pes, pra ter certeza que nos nao iamos fazer "nenhuma bobagem".

Meu tio nos colocava no carro e levava pro restaurante dele com a desculpa que nos iamos "ajudar". Quando nos chegavamos la, ele nos dava uma mesa e mandava os garcons nos tratar como clientes. Eu me esbaldava nos coqueteis de frutas. Me achava tao chic...

Quando iamos pra Lindoia, ele dava a chave do carro pra gente sair cidade afora. Maluco, maluco, eu bem sei. Minha avo ficava alucinada.

Cansei de ouvir minha avo e algumas tias dizendo: voce acha divertido, acha engracado, mas a casa dele nao e ambiente para voce. nao va mais la, minha querida.

E eu ia, claro!

Num desses passeios de carro pela cidade, fomos trazidos de volta pra casa pelo delegado.

Meu tio nos passou um sermao na frente da autoridade, disse que nos pegamos a chave enquanto ele dormia.

O delegado virou as costas, ele jogou a chave de volta pro Sandro com a inequivocada recomendacao:

- Ve se voces dois deixam de ser estupidos e nao me aparecam mais aqui escoltados pela policia!

Nos nao tinhamos nem 13 anos.

Era ele quem me levava pra pular carnaval, que em deixava nadar a noite, que acobertava as nossas estripulias. Com o Tio Nelson, tudo podia. e nos nos divertiamos muito.

Passavamos a noite jogando baralho, pulando no sofa da sala, enchiamos a garagem de sabao em po e ficavamos escorregando pra la e pra ca.

Nunca levamos uma bronca, nunca uma cara feia, nunca uma represalia. Ta feliz, ta divertido? Entao ta otimo...

Eu cresci, meu amor e admiracao por ele nunca diminuiram. Quando eu ja era adulta, me lembro do meu tio vivendo numa gangorra. Horas estava bem, horas tinha perdido tudo. Trabalhava num restaurante aqui, numa pizzaria ali...

Eu o convidei para ser meu padrinho de casamento, ele nao foi por que estava pobre e nao podia me comprar um super presente. Fiquei arrasada, nunca quis o presente dele, queria que ele estivesse ali, comigo.

Sempre tentei manter contato, sempre ia aos restaurantes onde ele trabalhava depois que o dele fechou as portas. O jantar de batizado das minhas filhas foi no restaurante onde ele estava - assim ele passaria a fazer parte da vida das pequenas tambem.

Meu tio nao viajou mundo afora, mas falava da Italia comos e fosse sua terra Natal. Seus restaurantes eram italianos, e ele discutia geografia com os clientes como se ele tivesse crescido no pais da bota.

Com a memoria afiadissima, ele se lembrava do nome dos que iam ao seu restaurante, fazia questao de falar com todo mundo.Nunca conheci ninguem tao carismatico.

No batizado da Anita, levei doze pessoas para jantar la. Meses depois um dos meus convidados voltou sozinho ao restaurante e o Tio Nelson perguntou:

- Continua vegetariano?

O cara tinha um talento para tratar com o publico, que se equiparava ao carinho que ele dispensava aos amigos. Tenho certeza que muita gente esta chorando a sua partida hoje. NAo tenho duvidas que voce tenha marcado muitas vidas, exatamente como marcou a minha.

Tio, va com Deus, descanse em paz. Eu vou te amar pra sempre...

wanna save some money?

This is an old story. It happened to me once I moved to Dubai in 2004.




You know when you think you've found a pot of gold?
One of those great deals it is hard to believe they are for real?
Well, today I found one of those!
Tomorrow is my birthday and I've been planning to get a manicure for days.
Luckily today I just passed in front of a beauty salon called White Snow. The name struck me as funny but I did not think about it twice.
When I found out about the price, I was mesmerized. 60 dirhams.
I usually paid 70. Saving money is not a bad idea.
But before I left the place, the girl gave me a pamphlet with the promotions of the month.

One of the packages offered a hot oil treatment,  Indian henna for the hair, manicure, pedicure, wax for the legsl, armpit, mustache and eyebrows. It also included a facial, haircut and bleaching the arm's hair for only 100 dirhams.
I could hardly believe it!
For the first time "promotion" really meant promotional prices...
I had no doubt. I took the pamphlet and went home happy and as larry, thinking about all the money I would save.
After lunch I called the salon for an appointment and the girl who answered the phone did not understand anything I said.
- Sorry, small English. Come 4 pm.
White Snow, problems with language ...
I should have second guessed, but I did not.The price was so good and I was so excited to find such a great deal, I did nto notice anything fishy. At the very least, I was saving a minimum of 200 dirhams.
Man, was I happy...
I decided I could cancel the haircut and the bleaching of my arms. I do not have much hair, and would not like to go around with blond hair on them anyway. And my hairdresser was worth every penny he charegd..
At 4 pm sharp, I got there. The lady ( who does not speak English) made me wait for 20 minutes, without acknowledging me. Then she came around and asked me to wait for another 15 minutes.
Great. For the price, the wait was nothing.
Once again, I failed to notice the signals...
Not only the receptionist did not speak English, but the beautician, manicure, pedicure, hairdresser, masseur also could not speak. They were all the same person. I was in a "one woman salon".
When she was finally ready, she came over.

First step: she plastered my hair with the most unpleasant smelling oil. Before I let her do anything else,  I asked her in English, mime and sign language if any of those products would change the color of my hair.
- NO MADAM!
I was still very happy for the savings, and feeling very proud of myself for being so smart. I think I'll come back here every week.
I love the United Arab Emirates!

After we finished the hair ritual, we moved on to doing my pedicure.
The girl put my feet in one of those foot spas and went to tend to another client (???????). I did  not like it much, but thought she had everything under control.
Maybe that's how she managed to charge so little for her services. Production line.
Genius. The woman is a genius! And so am I. I found her and managed to save lots of money AND get pampered.
After half an hour left with my feet in the foot spa thing, my conviction was beginning to weaken.

The manicure and pedicure were finished almost with no incident. The only hic up was a crooked nail which she insisted on filing the wrong side, making it worse. A nail shorter than the other nine and in a different shape is not the end of the world. I am very picky,I must admit!
By the end of the process, she said something which I understood to be:
- After the massage I paint your nails!
Sure! Obvious. I thought it made sense, so it will not damage the nail polish.
She then tried to stick mywet  feet into my new shoes. She also found it completely strange when I took my slippers out of  my bag.

Next step: facial treatment!

The beautician put something on my face that felt and smelled like cheap soap.
When  I could take a peek I saw that it WAS actually cheap soap.
She spent lots of time working on my face. It was hard to breathe with all the products she was plastering all over my face. And between one product and another, she would just put ice on my skin. God, that was uncomfortable...
Around this time, she remembered the other client and left me there for another 30 minutes, with steam on my face.

When she came back, she started using something that looked and felt like a fork in my nose and cheeks. It was a nightmare to convince the girl that I did not want that. Not even after all the hindy speech she delivered in favor of the fork thing.

NO!!

Another half hour with a mask on my face and cucumber on my eyes and the facial treatment was over.
By then it was clear to me i would not let her touch my eyebrows.The wax was so hot she burnt my legs, so I also cancelled the armpit waxing.
She used thread to pluck the hair from my mustache. That was painful but effective. With a red face I moved to the hairdresser chair, to take all those stinky products from my hair.
Or should I say my ORANGE hair?
I used all my strenght to keep calm and not kill the woman who made my hair look like a pumpkin.

It seemed to me she was done. She openned the door and smiled, expecting me to pay and leave. When I reminded her about the nail polish, she looked very confused. I went back to miming, pointing, using sign language. When she finally understood, she went inside and came back with TWO nail polish bottles. I could even chose one of the colors. How lucky can one be?
As she was in a hurry, she painted my nails (without taking the cuticles out) standing up. She also decided to apply a double coat in one of the nails, but not the other 9. After another 10 minutes, she realised I would not leave if she did not make all my nails look the same.
Right in front of the place, I damaged one of the nails, but by then I was so exhausted I decided to just let go. It would not be worth going back to try and fix it...