The beginnings....

We finally left in the same fashion as characterized by the last few months. Backward steps mixed with spurts of great fortune. All day was spent weighing and perfectly packing our 4 large bags so as not to be fined heavily for a single pound we didn’t actually need. When we checked in that never even crossed the Canadian Air representative’s mind. Ugh, all the shoes and shampoo I could have probably found room for! She didn’t so much as glance once at the scale!! But she did seem to pay attention to other details, like the order of my husbands name. Its simple, Richard A Pearl. He was booked in the system by his company’s travel agency as Alexander Pearl Richard. That is a big problem when the rules are rarely bent at the security check point. She basically said, well its up to their discretion as to whether or not they will let you through and if they don’t well you will have to get in touch with the travel agency tomorrow and get this fixed. Hahaha, if only you knew the ease in which THAT would happen. Well stroke of luck, they didn’t seem to care either.  If it were really necessary I would now get into finer detail about the last month of hellacious issues we’ve had just trying to book the tickets so you could truly appreciate the relief of walking through security… but it doesn’t matter at this point, what matters is that I, Jana Pearl with my husband Alexander Pearl Richard made it through successfully!  =)

So we only had 60 minutes in Toronto to catch our flight to Sao Paulo and the O’Hare flight was delayed 30 minutes. Of course it was. When we landed we made buddies with the flight attendant who cleared the aisle at landing so we could be the first off the plane. We ran an olympic sprint to passport control at 955 with our flight scheduled to depart at 1015. We were then met by a Canadian Air official who politely said to follow her as they were holding the plane for us...Well how generous, we felt so important! Still running we made it and were surprised to see such a crowd?! Well they had in fact delayed the plane, for other reasons and so really they held the plane for everyone.  The official just smiled, just another silly moment to make us appreciate how lucky we were to be sitting on that plane!!!

11 hours, lots of ridiculous turbulence and 6 episodes of Mad Men later, breakfast was served and we landed. Standing under the carport at the rental car agency Alex tried to convince me that after only an hour of practicing a stick shift in Chicago he was ready drive us into the city. We stalled three times trying to leave. Rarely am I proven right but this one was obvious and hilarious. I was really scared though, I’ve read too many expat blogs about driving in Brazil and I had hoped to ease into it. Sweaty and nervous I battled with the motor bikes, ignorance of rules and horrendous traffic. We rented a GPS which we couldn’t have survived without however even with it, the lady would demand a left and we were presented with three variations on a left so it took about two hours to drive 18 km! I learned how to put the car in reverse in front of 10 car salesman, while they watched and laughed at us as I tried to turn around. (trust me it was tricky). Then I got it, pulled out and went the wrong way and had to turn around again on a steep sloped road and was literally so close to hitting a parked car Alex had to get out and push me… ohh I wish I was exaggerating!  I may have won the road battle today, but my scars and a few stressful tears cast glim victories ahead.

So with that we arrived, settled and celebrated at a Churrascaria, an authentic version of an American Brazilian steakhouse. Caipirinhas made fresh in front of you and lots of yummy newly found comfort food.  What.an.adventure…

Pictures attached are views from our hotel and the pool which Alex bragged to his mom he would be lounging at all week. Hahaha… 

Alex, Jana meet Brazil

Finally. We've been waiting for a date, a simple date of when we would depart for the last 4 months. From visa issues to passport trauma and ticket confusion, we have seats on a plane for November 15. Alex begins work the next week so we have 4 days to find an apartment and the weekend to settle in. Lots of things to do this week but mainly celebrate and finally say goodbye to the many people we have already said goodbye to several times in the hope we would have left weeks ago. What an emotional journey and we haven't even gotten there yet. Stay tuned... Hello Brazil!

Isnt life just funny like that...

So we have been waiting and waiting for months and months for our visa's to go through. Finally everything is approved, the millions of forms are finished, the hefty payments are complete and all we need are the plane tickets and one minor detail, my passport. When I was packing to leave home and head to Denver I had a lot of things that overstuffed my suitcase taking me out of carryon size. So I packed a box of clothes to mail to myself in Chicago and at the last minute I clearly remember throwing in a bag I just didn't feel I had room for. Well in that bag was my passport. My mom mailed the box as I suggested, "you dont need to rush it mom, its just clothes so keep it cheap." Yes well that means no tracking number and a lot of time. Its been a week and no box ...no passport. I can't fill out my forms and submit them to the consulate until I have my passport. So Alex's company in Brazil is ready to buy our tickets, the consulate has our visas and every day I pace for the mail truck. I can't believe after all these months its come down to a box, floating out there in postal odyssey. Hopefully we will be on a plane early next week so we can finally begin our overdue Brazilian life. I just hope whenever I finally get that box that my passport is in deed in that bag because if it isn't well that will be another story that I hope I dont have to tell.

How Fake Money Saved Brazil

I had no idea????!!!!


Copied from NPR Planet Money
by CHANA JOFFE-WALT

This is a story about how an economist and his buddies tricked the people of Brazil into saving the country from rampant inflation. They had a crazy, unlikely plan, and it worked.

Twenty years ago, Brazil's inflation rate hit 80 percent per month. At that rate,  if eggs cost $1 one day, they'll cost $2 a month later. If it keeps up for a year, they'll cost $1,000.

In practice, this meant stores had to change their prices every day. The guy in the grocery store would walk the aisles putting new price stickers on the food. Shoppers would run ahead of him, so they could buy their food at the previous day’s price.

The problem went back to the 1950s, when the government printed money to build a new capital in Brasilia.  By the 1980s, the inflation pattern was in place.

It went something like this:

1. New President comes in with a new plan.
2. President freezes prices and/or bank accounts.
3. President fails.
4. President gets voted out or impeached.
5. Repeat.

The plans succeeded at only one thing: Convincing every Brazilian the government was helpless to control inflation.

There was one more option that no one knew about.  It was dreamed up by four guys at the Catholic University in Rio. The only reason they enter the picture now  —  or ever — is because in 1992,  there happened to be a new finance minister who knew nothing about economics.  So the minister called Edmar Bacha, the economist who is the hero of our story.

"He said, 'Well, I've just been named the finance minister. You know I don’t know economics, so please come to meet me in Brasilia tomorrow,' " Bacha recalls. "I was terrified."

Bacha had been waiting for decades for this call.

He and three friends had been studying Brazilian inflation since they were graduate students — four guys at the campus bar complaining to each other about how no one else knew how to fix this.  And now they were being told "Fine, do it your way."

Bacha was invited to meet the president.

"I asked for an autograph for my kids," Bacha says. So the president wrote Bacha's kids a note that said, "Please tell your father to work fast for the benefit of the country."

The four friends set about explaining their idea.  You have to slow down the creation of money, they explained. But, just as important, you have to stabilize people's faith in money itself.  People have to be tricked into thinking money will hold its value.

The four economists wanted to create a new currency that was stable, dependable and trustworthy.  The only catch: This currency would not be real.  No coins, no bills.  It was fake.

"We called it a Unit of Real Value — URV," Bacha says. "It was virtual; it didn't exist in fact."

People would still have and use the existing currency, the cruzeiro.  But everything would be listed in URVs, the fake currency.   Their wages would be listed in URVs.  Taxes were in URVs.  All prices were listed in URVs.  And URVs were kept stable — what changed was how many cruzeiros each URV was worth.

Say, for example, that milk costs 1 URV. On a given day, 1 URV might be worth 10 cruzeiros. A month later, milk would still cost 1 URV. But that 1 URV might be worth 20 cruzeiros.

The idea was that people would start thinking in URVs — and stop expecting prices to always go up.

"We didn't understand what it was," says Maria Leopoldina Bierrenbach, a housewife from Sao Paulo. "I used to say it was a fantasy, because it was not real."

Still, people used URVs. And after a few months, they began to see that prices in URVs were stable. Once that happened, Bacha and his buddies could declare that the virtual currency would become the country’s actual currency. It would be called the real.

"Everyone is going to receive from now on their wages, and pay for all the prices, in the new currency, which is the real," Bacha says. "That is the trick."

The day they launched the real, Bacha says, a journalist friend asked him, "Professor, do you swear that inflation will end tomorrow?"

"Yes, I swear." Bacha said.

And, basically, inflation did end, and the country's economy turned around. In the years that followed, Brazil became a major exporter, and 20 million people rose out of poverty.

"We were in awe," Bierrenbach says. "Everybody was very happy."

For more: Listen to the Planet Money podcast, "How Four Drinking Buddies Saved Brazil."

Correction:  An earlier version of this story misspelled cruzeiro in two instances.  Thanks to the commenter who pointed out the error.

reflections on growing up

I think everyone has those moments. You are in the midst of doing something and it hits you. Your back hurts more while doing something you've always done painlessly. You run into someone you knew years ago. You hear a song or smell a fragrance that takes you back in time. You think, wow was that really ten years ago? I feel so old!

My room at my parents house was frozen in high school. Memorabilia from field trips, ticket stubs from concerts, pictures from dances and dried flowers from old boyfriends were scattered around my very blue and very dated room. There was comfort in knowing nothing tangible there ever changed while I was busy... changing. My mom recalled the year I decided blue was my favorite color. I loved the smurfs, owned a blue winter jacket, wanted blue curtains and walls while wearing blue socks and shoes. It was the mid nineties and I was declaring proudly my newly establishing preferences for dress and decor. I am lucky that my room got to stay mine. It wasn't converted to a study or a sowing room, it just collected dust on those defining elements of school days.

I came home last week with the furniture I had bought years ago when I moved out to Denver as there was just no space for it in Brazil. To make room, we sold my first bedroom set given to me by my grandmother when I was about 8. I think my mom shed a few quiet tears. Then I went about redecorating and painting over the memories. Goodbye Blue. I spent three days priming and painting one 'bright white' and three 'gravity gray' walls. Down went the giant poster of a Cala lilly, the 9th grade twin day pictures, the beads from sorority events and the collection of shot glasses I once thought showing off would be so cool. I was in love with stars and galaxies so my dad pasted a glow in the dark system all over the ceiling above my bed which took forever to peel off. I went through the love notes of middle school, a complex world where my friends and I wrote pages and pages to each other during class about all the boys we 'loved'. The 'Best Friends Forever' necklaces I seemed to have shared with different friends each month and the math papers filled with dream house floorplan drawings instead of formulas. The biggest room was always noted strictly for my dogs. Over the past week I relived a decade. The items were aged yet the conversations in the letters and the people behind the pictures felt so fresh. Where did all the time go? And what do you save? Will I really sit down with my own children and show them the 200 pictures I took on a field trip to the Arlington Cemetery when I was 12?

My new room was to be grown up, organized with visually diminished amounts of stuff. But here I am having gone through containers and drawers feeling like I recyled enough to start my own center and I am still swimming in pictures and journals. I didn't realize I've been documenting every feeling and every place I've been since I was 5. Somehow before I leave in the next few days I have to finish deciphering treasures from trash.

So my grown up moment was fragrant, rich with the smell of high school football games and the music of band class even new paint can't disguise. I guess the takeaway for me is that somewhere in the significant era of a color I made some fantastic friends, traveled many places, slept beneath stars, graduated a few times and found my real best friend forever. Its amazing what a little paint can do. Goodbye Blue.

Goodnight West Loop

Move part one has arrived. Tomorrow the overseas moving company that will ship our little life to Sao Paulo is packing everything up and moving it to Alex's mothers garage. Luckily we are moving in with her for the next... what we hope is a month as we wait on the work visa. Our stuff will wait too and once we finally hop on a plane to move, visas in hand, we must find an apartment and then give the ok for them to go back to the garage and pack all our stuff up into a crate that will then ever so slowly, sail down to find us.  So today we organized what we will actually take, assuming our place will be small. It was emotional to take down pictures and disassemble our chicago life. We ordered pizza from our favorite place, cracked open the balcony door for a great fall breeze and watched NFL all day. That was not my choice, but I've never see a happier man than one that got to watch 4 back to back games so how could I interrupt that? The thrill of the day however came when we managed to fill 14 bags worth of goodwill material! I drove over there THREE TIMES! Each more delightful than the last. Clothes, duplicate pans, books, vases, old random glasses, college koozies, spices, dishes and only one wedding gift (shhhh). Originally we wanted to have a garage sale to make a little cash but I am so glad we canned that idea and just gave it away. I was picturing the people that always sit around the table at our local goodwill and read (yes I seem to walking by often), enjoying my dusty Pillars of the Earth. I used to love showcasing every book I've ever read but both of us have our masters and unlike college you actually want to keep all your books (for obvious reasons but mainly because you finally understand the dollar signs representing each...I know I should have realized this in undergrad but I didn't sorry). 

This slow transition south is proving to be quite rewarding.  I doubt our new brazilian friends will spend much time browsing our bookshelves anyways; theres more important things to do like drink caipirinha's and eat hundreds of Pao de queijo (incredible cheese rolls). I know I'll miss football and homemade pizza company pizza among other things, but Ill be damned if we haven't picked another good place for football and cheesy bread!

Its the last night here at home, the chapter comes to a close. The empty walls are lonely, there are only a few lights left on in the buildings around, the annoying yapper dog is still yapping and my old belongings are awaiting new homes down on Washington street.  Goodnight West Loop, goodnight Larry the security guard who loves nights when we have leftovers, goodnight Jo at the cleaners and all the doggies at the new park, for you will always have a special place in my memory, homes always do. 

There is comfort in ritual

I feel like I'm standing on a ledge. Behind me is my day to day life, full of familiarity and comfort. Ahead is a blank canvas of unknown. It can take form in opportunity or despair. Its my choice. But its like walking in the fog. I don't know what I want to do with my life and everything up to this point seemed so clear. Most people I've spoken with recently in the midst of discussing leaving, have professed jealously in my new abilities. I can sleep in, I can watch Oprah, I can have time for the things we never seem to have time for. And yes, that will be fun for a few weeks. But there is something to be said for consistency (and a paycheck). For most our jobs are what we use to arrange the rest of our lives around. We schedule time with loved ones, vacations and weekend respite around what is always most steady. As we build our careers we wed, breed, build, upgrade, shop and errand. With this job, my first job, I have built a sturdy base. It takes the form of junior, associate, senior and principle. Each is attached to earning power and people power. Is that my path?! In no way do I want to discredit that direction because it is very respectable. I am just trying to figure out if that is where I want to go. So I connect this post to a picture I took in Cuba. Oh how I crave to go back to Cuba. With all its messy government and dilapidated buildings the colors and people of Cuba just need some polish (well that is of course a metaphor for everything, they need better structure, income, freedom...food...they need a lot of things). But it is and they are... beautiful even in their current state.

So today I say goodbye to the comfort zone, the consistent next step in the stairway that equals 40+ hours of my week, 200 some of my month and what feels like a hell of a lot of my year. Years behind and ahead. But a shout out to the things I will oh so miss.


-The wonderful secretary that greets me every morning and calls me on her operator line to tell me when there are cookies and candy in the conference room..its really the little things that make a day good to great
-My friends in the Water and Transportation Dept that also keep an eye on the candy levels knowing i usually show up when they are plentiful or when something major in hollywood occurs and there is need for discussion
-My space with my pictures and my plant that is taking over my desk
-Trips to the kitchen that usually incorporate a lot more than more water or lunch
-The old man on my bus route that holds books an inch from his face and today he was reading, "Dont Sweat the Small Stuff." how appropriate
-The work, be it thrilling or tedious... the work has always been an adventure and has really helped me to realize options for the next step
-The view over the lake that on summer days looks like Mexico and in the dead of winter... well looks dead
-The fact that the lights go out after 6pm and the heater gets set to 60 on the weekends during winter. They sadly assume the whole building works 8-5 m-f
-And most of all the people...my coworkers. Mentors and friends, to which I listen and take note. The wonderful people that turn bad days into smiles and keep everything else in check. People derail the lemmings, stop the madness or add to the madness... make the world more interesting. They are the polish and the comfort.

Thank you

find what you love and get paid to do it

Thanks to an old friend from Denver and MasterCard I finally understand the thrill of doing what you love as work. Labor Day for me wasn't a relaxing one, but it surely was fun. A group of MasterCard holders from Mexico City and neighboring townships won a "Priceless" weekend in Chicago.  My friend works on the MasterCard account and needed a photographer. At first, I recommended several professionals, but in the end I nervously decided I could give it a try. We ate at classic Chicago establishments like the original Morton's, and toured the architecture of downtown and Hyde Park and Sunday we had batting practice with the cubs. If meeting incredibly sweet people and capturing their joy is a job requirement, sign me up for life! Here's a little taste of the weekend.

Those were just a few of the 814 pictures they went home with. 

Thank you for the opportunity James. 

Hope everyone had a wonderful Labor Day Weekend!

bring your own....stove?

Before Alex came back, he spent the day looking at potential apartments. In the areas we would 'like' to live in Sao Paulo, rent prices are on par with those in Manhattan. 'Like' translating to safe and near the highway as less time driving means more time living....literally (driving can be quite dangerous).

Our stylish little loft in the West Loop runs around 800 sq ft and is quite full. Looks like we are about to downsize. Most of my friends that have gotten married recently have purchased homes and wonderful new things to fill them with. In accordance with our 'road less traveled' plan, I've just learned we will be minimizing. However, fortunately we still get to purchase a few little things for our new home as well.

Like.... a stove, a refrigerator and a microwave. Yep, in all the places he saw, you bring your own. Goodbye marble counters, stainless steel double fridges, a washer and dryer and built-in microwaves. I've been so spoiled! We've had cabinets in the bathroom (in the apartments he saw its just a standing sink and shower), a bedroom that fits a queen bed AND a dresser (yep those bedrooms barely fit a bed) and...heres the kicker....CLOSETS! Yep, in a few of the places he saw no closets. Im on the lookout for a larger stove so it can double as my shoe storage!

The positive highlights? A fantastic pool and community area. Because most spaces in the buildings he looked at were smaller, people mingle and eat together. There were large kitchens by the pool area with tables for large gatherings and wonderful amenities. Much like cluster housing designs, learning to share communal space breeds socially supportive and environmentally responsible living. Don't worry, if you come visit us we will have a wonderful blow up mattress for you. You might be sleeping in the kitchen/dining room/fridge/oven/closet but we will make it work =)

As a fellow expat blogger wrote, "we have re-learned the joys of personal relationships as life enhancers." As we prepare to unstuff ourselves we also look forward to kicking off our first year of marriage in tight quarters and meeting lots of wonderful people. You cant argue with that trade off!

We are All Americans

Last night Mayor Bloomberg held a very insightful dinner amidst heavy criticism over the proposed Cultural Center in New York's Ground Zero. He supports the Park51 Project as do I however he was much better at articulating why. Americans always seem to live in fear. Fear of what we don't know, what we don't understand and as its becoming more and more comfortable its breeding some pretty twisted behavior. This should not define the elections in November but serve as a distinct shift in our Nation's maturity. Who are we to judge which religion gets space to build their faith. If it were a protestant church we wouldn't be having this debate. As Bloomberg states below, we must always lead by example. Isn't that what we teach our children?

----

Stephen Prothero wrote today about Bloomberg's remarks.

{"The community center can and must be built at the Park51 site, he said. Anything less would “compromise our commitment to fighting terror with freedom." During his remarks, Bloomberg welcomed Talat Hamdani, whose son, Salman Hamdani, a paramedic and Ne York City Police Department cadet, died on 9/11. He also welcomed Sakibeh and Asaad Mustafa, whose children, he said, “have served our country overseas.”

Bloomberg brought home the point that the propaganda war now being waged on Islam in America threatens to undercut our counterinsurgency battle for "hearts and minds" in Iraq and Afghanistan. “If we do not practice here at home what we preach abroad–if we do not lead by example–we undermine our soldiers,” he said. “We undermine our foreign policy objectives. And we undermine our national security."

“In that spirit," Bloomberg concluded, in words that echoed John F. Kennedy's "Ich bin ein Berliner" speech, "let me declare that we in New York are Jews and Christians and Muslims, and we always have been. And above all of that, we are Americans, each with an equal right to worship and pray where we choose. There is nowhere in the five boroughs that is off limits to any religion."}

*Stephen Prothero, a Boston University religion scholar and author of "God is Not One: The Eight Rival Religions that Run the World."

Visa frustrations

Alex landed, settled and began our new life in Sao Paulo. I am coming in a month as soon as I finish up my job and get the move organized. Two weeks in however, he is now coming back. Since he is his company's first american it is trial and error for both. His Visa is somewhere in the piles of government documents in Brasilia and he is flying home to wait it out. Their idea of efficiency is slightly different than ours so we could potentially be waiting for a while. I know he is very frustrated wanting to work, ready to work and trying to work however knowing he is coming back for just a few more weeks in chicago....I can't help but smile. These nuances are reminders of why we are moving to another country. We will get there eventually, and when we do I honestly cannot wait to throw ourselves into this crazy cultural mixing bowl and see where it takes us. Till then I get my husband back for a few weeks and we might just get to leave together this time.

a vida é boa

My American Life

As the sun sets on life here in the US, change is upon me...again. I've moved now about every three years since college, each time hesitant. Usually I embark knowing very few people if any at all and I'm full of curiosity and sadness. Did I make the right decision, will I make friends, will I find happiness, what things about that place will define me?! Colorado brought amazing friendships, best friendships in fact and an absolute passion for the mountains and my future career choice. As I drove away down highway 70 I was leaving the place where I really found myself. In my rear view I had my girls, my apartment, my lifestyle and ahead was a boy and a lot of questions.

It snowed a lot that first winter and I worked all the time. Rarely seeing Alex and my only good friend here I wondered if I had made the right choice. My job kept me from any girls nights as it was hard to find time for wine when I rarely had any hours of sleep. But spring came, life picked up and cafe tables popped up along the wide sidewalks I figured only for snow storage. I slowly started to make a group of friends and developed a passion for food I never thought possible. Alex and I got engaged and life was pretty perfect. Even some of my best friends ended up moving here right before I am to depart. And here we go again.

Im trying to stay strong amidst all the apprehension consuming me yet again, because I know in the end it will be a wonderful experience. If my american life has taught me anything, its that a new place can tell you things about yourself you didn't always know or understand and I think its important to be patient and learn as much as you can from that experience. But most of all, its taught me that friendships take time but once solid they are the foundation for happiness. I wouldn't have met such incredible people in college if it weren't for the girls I grew up with that set such a high standard, and so forth to Denver... Chicago and all the places in between.

I challenge you Brazil, not that the friends and the places get better, for I have had the best, but that I just gain a few more along the journey.

The NEW Brazil

"If the rise of Brazil was cast as a childhood story rather than a dry economics tract, the fable might go something like this.

Once upon a time, there was a skinny boy who was bullied at school. Every time there was a fight in the playground, he seemed to end up as the punchbag. The boy rarely complained, even though his sorry state did not match the glorious fate about which he often daydreamed. That just seemed to be the way things were.

One day, a new teacher arrived, bringing with him some new games for the classroom. These playthings distracted the big boys, and the fighting stopped. The skinny boy used the calm to do exercises, recommended by his canny stepmother, who also fed him a special soup to make him strong.

All good things come to end, however. The games broke, as they always do, and tempers flared again in the playground. This time, however, the big boys no longer bullied the skinny boy. He had become lean and fit, while they had grown fat and clumsy. Instead of pushing him around, they even seemed to look up to him. Standing in the school yard, blinking in the sun, the boy reveled in his new status. Would it last? He wanted to make sure it would.

The skinny boy is, of course, Brazil. His bullies are the financial markets of developed economies, the new games are the soothing palliative of the noughties credit boom, and the latest school-ground fight is the global financial crisis. His stepmother is China, the special soup he ate the commodity boom that has boosted Brazil’s economy, and his exercises represent the macroeconomic stabilization policies Brazil put in place in the mid-1990s. The result, in this simple tale first told by Brazilian commentator Ricardo Amorim, is the new Brazil: a slightly gangly adolescent, standing tall amid the world community, not fully grown into its new stature but confident and eager to make its mark."

An excerpt from The Financial Times, "South America’s giant comes of age"
By John Paul Rathbone

As I head to Brazil, I feel slightly the same, not fully grown, but confident and eager to make a mark....

Time spent in the sand...

Dubai.

I was starting to worry the longer I waited to download my impressions of Dubai the more watered down they would become. It was one of the most interesting, surprising, thrilling 20 hours I have spent that sweaty...ever. We had been sort of prepping ourselves for a few sleepless nights as we left Paris at 9:30 PM arriving in Dubai at 6:30AM ready for the day that would consist of a whirlwind of adventure till we headed BACK to the airport at 3:30AM to catch our flight to Male. It all started out easy till we reached the airport and saw the 90 min line ahead of us to check our bags. Once we finally reached the front it was almost boarding time and the sweat had already begun to form on our brows. We had high expectations for Emirates Air. Everyone we spoke with that had experience with this airline had only good things to say. As our bags begun to weigh in we started to sense an issue. The woman at the desk quickly became frustrated and rudely threw up her arms and said sorry, too heavy you must have 30 kilos total between all bags (60 lbs) and we had about 80 between our 3 bags. We were shoved aside and told to wait, as we couldn't be let through with our current little problem. We asked to speak with the manager, explained United allowed us 50lbs each bag and we were sorry but we pleaded ignorance and overly ambitious honeymooners. Then the managers manager came over and eventually must have felt sorry for us and waived us through. Rushing to get through security they started boarding and our names were called on the loud speaker. Great, now we definitely aren't going to make it to Dubai. They said there was something with our tickets... blah blah and handed us new tickets. Well they proudly read, "Business Class." HA, after all that our next 8 hour journey was about to be spiced up a bit. We had champagne when we sat down and the rest was a blur of a 4 course dinner and restless yet now very horizontal sleep.

Hello Desert.

We knew it would be 120 degrees and you can talk to yourself about preparing for that all you want but until you've actually stepped foot in that sauna with your Muslim approved tourist clothes on you really appreciate the functionality of the Arab dress. Artie Keown was our wonderful hands off tour guide having arranged quite the schedule for us. First we were directed at the airport towards the ‘woman’s taxi,’ not sure why but off to Artie’s we went in a pink mini van to drop off our stuff.

His apartment is amazing. A 2 story loft on the 40th floor of a 41 floor building overlooking Jumeirah Beach complete with 2 hilarious rescued cats, 'boy cat' and 'Dinah' who argued profusely over who got to play in our suitcases. A quick hello to Artie, who I realized I hadn't seen since high school graduation 9 years ago; and we were off to the Jumeirah Mosque. Now having been to the Blue Mosque in Istanbul I guess I assumed all central Mosques would be just as grand. When the taxi dropped us off we were both thinking really…..this is it? Or this is the Hollywood version? Appropriately situated across the street from a rather large Starbucks AND a TGIF Friday's we felt like we had arrived in a Disney world set of "Dubai World" except that the temperature was a constant reminder we really were in the desert. We had an hour long informational tour that discussed little about the Mosque and more about the Muslim Religion. The two British Muslim women made a great case for conversion until they really didn’t have great responses for why there was a “womans pray room,” and a “mans pray room,” and why it truly is better to be in an Abaya (traditional black “cloak”) because you get to wear your ‘nighties’ underneath it all day without ever having to worry what to wear. Hmmm… on second thought…..I’ll keep my closet for now.



Next stop, a place I had been looking forward to for years, the Burj al Arab. I had studied it, read about it and gone to the website a hundred times. The "only hotel in the world with a 7 star rating." Obviously their management team came up with that little phrase but it does breed high expectations...

The Burj Al Arab was amazing to taxi up to. Truly a wonder. A helicopter was landing on the helipad that doubles for a tennis court and my mouth was watering to get there. Artie had booked us a Sky Lounge Afternoon Tea which is one of very few ways anyone can actually get inside, outside of paying the 1k minimum for a room a night (which until the big stock market crash was more like 4k/night min). First impressions; if the exterior was extremely interesting from an architectural standpoint, the interior left a lot to be desired. I can't begin to describe the let down. Of course I was still excited, but after examining the first level we had been instructed to spend 45 minutes praising before our tea, I was almost stand still shocked thinking, “seriously???”. Sure, there is pure gold in the marble flooring and a colorful fountain that responds to the colorfully tiered ceiling but it is reminiscent of a Vegas hotel that got stuck in the 80’s and never reinvented itself. But it was actually finished in the late 90’s?! Since we were advised tea seriously didn't start for another 45 min Alex thought we should head to the top anyways. The elevator was glass and offered a great view of the dusty city but nothing of the state of the art deluxe experience I beefed up to Alex and myself. The top confirmed my impressions. Not only was it covered in classless chrome but it was just such a let down. The tea wasn't cheap but the decor took cheap to a whole new level considering its status and presence. Regardless, we had a great time drinking wine and champagne instead of "tea" with our petite fours and miniature sandwiches and gazing out over the blurry city skyline. Unfortunately for us a large dust storm had overtaken Dubai so everything felt like it existed within a smoggy bubble. We still had great views of the marina below, and the islands I had heard so much about called "The Palm," and "The World," which I had studied and read about as well and had been very curious to actually see in person. I hope I don't sound snotty, as it was a wonderful experience just a little bit like deflating an egoist.


On to the Burj Khalifa. WOW.

This beautiful piece of construction has defied the odds of its time and our imagination. Approaching, the landscape its stunning both during the day and at night. Extractions of the building form were perfectly placed around the base in water and beautiful green grasses, and at night... well read on. Heading up to the top you enter via the Mall Dubai. In its own right, that mall deserves its own piece so more on that later. The Armani Hotel occupies the base of the building, his first experience delving into this realm and I would say after having a drink in the bar and judging the lobby he did an almost perfect job. You glide up the the elevator learning about the architecture and form behind the building, quotes touting the Sheikh Khalifa (the current owner who purchased the building amid great controversy as it was originally titled the Burj Dubai till the market's crashed and Dubai had to be bailed out from Abu Dhabi and its Sheikh) and it is all done very classy. We get to the elevator and soar up to the top in what feels like 30 seconds. Looking down it looked like renderings. Looking out, it really sinks in what a desert this place is. There is development in a small circle from the building but everything else is vast desert. It really gave a great perspective of the area. Especially when you witness the amount of clear blue water and perfectly manicured greenscapes, its all just so surreal.


We headed back down to meet up with Artie and saw the aquarium at the Mall Dubai and headed out for the water experience. If you have been to the Vegas show in front of the Bellagio, this is about 5 times the size. The lights begin to dim and the buildings and landscape flicker in a light show that rivals anything I've ever seen or heard of. Its simply incredible if you can mind the heat. We searched for a place to eat where we could also indulge in a nice cold beer and surprising that is relatively easy. It had to be connected to a hotel for Muslim/law reasons but virtually everything is. There are plenty of very modern amazing restaurants that surround the water show so we happily chose a Thai place and decided to sit outside in the sauna for the full experience. Regardless of how much water you drink, and cold towels they give you for your forehead its HOT. I've never sweated so much in my life but strangely it was worth it.

Besides the skyline, I found one of the most beautiful elements to be the women. Their eyes are stunning and deep, and their dress accentuates the mystery. Fully in black they move around space like quiet ghosts. Spooky yet elegant. I wanted to take hundreds of pictures but that would have been a bit awkward. They all distinguish themselves with their purse and shoe collections. With enormous Louis Vuitton bags and stylish Chanel sandals, they shop and pray all day. The conveniently large prayer rooms in the malls are at least four times the size of the ones we saw in the Jumeirah Mosque. In the summer since it is so hot they spend each and every day at the mall. I half don’t blame them, the food courts are more incredible that the offerings on Michigan Avenue and with aquariums, museums and book stores the size of a Wal-mart there is plenty to do in between your five regimented prayers with your lady friends. The pizza parlors have herb gardens growing in them and a guy clips your choices to add to your selected pie. If you don’t want to eat local cuisine, there is plenty of American chains and virtually any kind of food from around the world to choose from. In Mall Dubai, there is even a Bloomingdales right next to the Red Mango in case you really missed home.


The beautiful skyline, the fresh green parks, the magical water fountains...that, is the Dubai on the shimmering surface. I came to find the other Dubai has many secrets hidden in the shadows....

They have some of the largest prostitution rings in the world, and the child sex trafficking and camel jockeying is also still prevalent despite attempts to curb it over the past few years. The Princes and Sheikh's of the Middle East may wear their religious capes like warriors for Allah but behind the scenes they deceptively crave beyond western indulgences. The global tourism perpetuates it too. As a westerner you may be arrested on the beach for making out with your wife, but at a five star hotel bar you can easily pick up a girl to grant whatever your heart's desire. It’s become a sexual playground for the global business man. It may be illegal in the Quran, but in reality its without a doubt acceptable and everywhere. Slavery. in some sense of the word is also somewhat common and normal. If you wish to keep a maid, she more than likely gets put on your visa so she can stay long term and at that point she could be considered indebted to you for a period of time.

Anyways, I digress.... Like I said, it was an interesting adventure. We were however, so glad we went and honestly I want to go back. They have a shopping festival in the winter (when the weather is actually tolerable) and merchants bring goods from around the world and the malls stay open till 3am. Artie was a priceless tour guide, offering history, expat perspectives and a great itinerary. At the end of several glasses of wine and a bottle of champagne back at his place (which he bought for us to celebrate our honeymoon) before heading to the airport, we nicknamed him Artie Fantastic. Ill be back someday….

Perfect in Paris

I have should have kept a better journal for all my thoughts in France. Instead, they are (un)neatly kept on cafe napkins and hotel papers. I hadn't been to France in over 10 years but it was as my mind had kept it.

When I must have been 13, I toured around the the Eiffel Tower eating chocolate crepes, watching people holding hands as the evening dimmed to a lovely summer romance thinking how I hoped to one day come with my signifiant other. Little did I know how cliche it was to go to Paris on a honeymoon but now I realize there is a reason most times for cliches. Paris is perfect for love.... even as it rains right now (the only reason I am on my computer and not out wondering the streets). The hotel has fresh cut flowers, and I am drinking rose champagne listening to some pretty fantastic music out of San Francisco (The Six Parts Seven), watching people scram for cover, pigeons find leftover crumbs from a passerby's croissant and Alex is reading right next to me. We often pondered whether it was worth coming here for a weekend because once you catch up with the jet lag its time to head back home. But that being said, even if you manage one great evening and a few hours of sunshine during the day it really is worth the while. For the bread (and the butter), the pastries and chocolate, the shopping on every corner, the parks and the river. It is so absolutely lovely.

Most would probably argue you could eat good food, walk along the water and enjoy the sunshine a lot of places, but as cliche as it may be its really perfect in Paris.