#54: Italy, Zurich and Dubai, January – April, 2004
Challenges at Home and Abroad

January

2003’s November and December were full of so many happenings — visiting R in Sri Lanka, a landslide and the olive harvest back home — that my letters for a while may mostly reflect the previous month, rather than the one on the dateline. So let’s get started with my January letter, which is mostly about December…

As instructed by the Vigili del Fuoco (fire dept.), I managed to get the gas tank moved within a week, finding a man with a backhoe big enough to dig a hole 2.5 meters deep by 2 meters square. Graziano then climbed down and refined the result with a shovel. The gas company took away the old tank from its concrete platform and installed the new one in the hole. The plumber arrived at the same time to make the connections and keep the gas running smoothly so I had heat, hot water and a cookstove. I procured pozzolana (literally, “well-wool”), a black sand made from crushed volcanic stone, required around the underground tank to insulate it, should lightning strike nearby. Graziano and I spent two days shoveling four cubic meters of the stuff into the hole. The inspector completed the paperwork but failed to forward it to the Vigili in time, so they called. I got onto him right away, and all’s well that ends well.

All that remains now is to stabilize the hillside. The surveyor is coming on Monday to formally define the borders of our property. Then we’ll know how much of this task is our responsibility and how much is our neighbor’s.

This really seemed to be a period when everything went wrong. At one time or another, I had no electricity (storm knocked out the local grid); no heat (faulty valve which had to be ordered); no TV (faulty connections with satellite dish); notice from the water board that payment for two quarters was past due (fell through the cracks with R overseas); notice from authorities that my heater hadn’t been certified this year (it had been, but the electrician failed to forward the paperwork). To top it off, Zack found a secret way to get out of the property and escaped twice before I found a shallow tunnel under the fence, behind the pyracantha. Both times, he came back promptly when called, quite proud of himself that he’d fooled Graziano and me — we’d looked and looked without finding his exit.

Despite all these challenges, I got the house cleaned and a Christmas tree bought in time for Russell’s arrival on the 20th. Poor man, he landed with a serious head cold that slowly worked its way south, causing him to spend his first two days in bed. I made my usual plates of holiday goodies for friends, and R was well enough for us to join the Rosati family for the Vigilia dinner on Christmas Eve. We spent a quiet Christmas at home, and the next day, I came down with a very high fever, achy joints and no appetite, only thirst. I seem to be on the mend enough for us to continue with our plans to have a few days in Zurich before Russell returns to Sri Lanka. That mini-vacation really feels like a blessing after all the challenges of the past few weeks.

By Roland zh – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10066484

February

We really liked Zurich (despite the fact that it’s enormously expensive, especially with the dollar losing a quarter of its value a year ago). Perhaps the best thing was just being together for the third week after a long separation. Highlights: cruising the lake on a mild, sunny afternoon in mid-winter; studying a museum map depicting the week-long route of the stagecoach from Milan up through the Alps to Zurich, the only link to that part of the outside world for hundreds of years; walking through cathedral cloisters where religious and political thinkers hatched their revolt against the Catholic Church and the Holy Roman Empire; strolling around Lindenhof hill, where the ancient Romans built a stockade in 15 BCE, followed by three successive imperial palaces, now a park with 90 linden trees. We both left Zurich on the 10th, Russell flying back to Sri Lanka and me via train through snowy Alps, vistas opening and closing as the train climbed up, up and then down, down.

Once I returned, I got busy with another cistern project, this one involving the newer, rectangular water tank below the house. Like the old, round one, it no longer worked, this one being a third full of sludge and water. The contractor first cleaned out the sludge, then scrubbed the cistern and lined it with heavy plastic. They re-routed old pipes of unknown origin and put in new ones to catch the rain from the three roofs of the house (main, verandah and terrace).  The rainwater now flows through a pozzo of sand and gravel, a filter before it arrives in the cistern. Now it’s starting to fill; hopefully, when the hot, dry months of summer come, we’ll have a cistern full of water for the garden. An unexpected byproduct is that the sludge is excellent fertilizer, so Graziano and I are shoveling it into a wheelbarrow and carrying it here and there as needed (though not for food crops).

Now that the cistern is functional, I’m contemplating putting a grape arbor over it. My friend Giuseppina has an ancient variety of eating grapes that are just excellent. With a few cuttings, it wouldn’t take much to turn that eyesore into a pleasant place to sit with the added value of nice fruit to eat.

I had our property line surveyed so we could figure out who has what responsibility for stabilizing the hillside to prevent further landslides. Turns out the landslide came from our neighbor’s property, so he has the legal responsibility to stabilize the hillside. And I learned that we own more land than we thought. There’s probably half an acre of woods up from the gate that’s ours. Our neighbors say we should harvest and sell the wood, but we like it just the way it is.

Rejoicing that hunting season was over, I soon learned that all the female dogs have gone into heat. Zack is wildly agitated, ready to do his part to ensure the continuation of the race. He’s already escaped three times, tunneling under the fence and making a beeline for every female he can get to. Very worrisome — I don’t want him to scare someone into shooting him. So I’ve kept him tied up, hauled giant rocks and staked down the fence where I could, waiting for our bitter weather of rain and snow to end so Graziano can come and help. At one point, he couldn’t even get from his house to the road, let alone drive here.

March

Writing early in the month, because I’m off to Dubai to celebrate my 60th birthday with Russell in a few days. The Emirate is more or less halfway between Italy and Sri Lanka. We decided we’d rather spend more time together and less time traveling, so Dubai it is. I’ll leave on the 4th, arriving just after midnight on birthday 5th, with R getting in from Colombo a couple hours later. Dubai looks like a great place to spend a long weekend — traditional souks, museums housed in old palaces, camel rides at dawn, dhow cruises at sunset. Not a bad way to celebrate my transition into senior citizenhood.

I finally got D’Annibale, “Il Barone” and the owner of the land where the slide slid from, to come take a look. He seemed rushed and preoccupied but promised to do something about it. He wants to get a surveyor and a geologist to have a look and give advice. The dear Lord only knows when something will get done. Meanwhile, we’re having extended days of rain, just like the weather which contributed to the landslide. I never thought I’d pray for dry weather.

I’ve completed the outline of the second book in my series of mysteries and revised Chapter 1 to fit the facts of the whole story. I had an idea for the second book while I was in Sri Lanka last fall and wrote a draft before I forgot. Now that I know the rest of the story, I had to make some key changes in the opening.

Received advice to also submit the first book to agents/publishers in U.K. because many readers there might be attracted to an Indian-woman heroine. Not sure what will come of it, but no stone unturned…

I started pruning the olive trees. Graziano will do most of the work while I’m gone, but I wanted to get the lower branches right for these old arms. Last fall, some of the branches were so low that I ended up with a backache from stooping over too much. Hopefully,  that won’t happen this year.

Photo: Nations Online Project

April

Lots of challenges in getting to Dubai. My departure looked very iffy for a while because of snow here. Luckily it melted in time for me to take the train to the Rome airport. Arriving, I learned the plane had been delayed in departing Dubai because of fog there. I decided to get my bag shrink-wrapped so it would be harder for thieves to break into during the long wait. Good thing I did, because the plane was delayed again until our departure was six hours late.

Once we took off, we had a pleasant flight with a good dinner, so I saved the bagged lunch I’d brought because airline food is usually so awful. That turned out to be another good thing, because we couldn’t land in Dubai due to fog. Our plane was re-routed to Doha, where we were told we’d wait a couple hours, then go on to Dubai. It was 6 a.m., and I was lucky enough to find a row of empty plane seats, so I stretched out, pulled up my blanket and went to sleep. I woke at 8:30, brushed my teeth, combed my hair and got ready for the 20-minute flight to Dubai.

The pilot came on to tell us the fog had lifted, but the flight crew could no longer take off, because their allotted working hours had run out. So we waited for a new crew to come from Dubai. Ten flights had been diverted to Doha and another ten to Muscat. Lots of flight crews being flown here and there and lots more delays. No breakfast onboard, because we were supposed to arrive at 12:45 midnight. I settled down with my doggie bag of cheese, crackers and an apple. Somewhere around noon, the pilot announced that not enough flight crews had arrived, so we were to disembark and have a free lunch compliments of the airline. Turned out to be a chicken sandwich, a drink and a piece of fruit, for which most of us were grateful.

Throughout all this, the most interesting thing to me was how the passengers grouped into two camps as far as handling the challenges went. A large number of them rolled with the punches and made the best of everything. But the other large group just made things worse by taking the whole thing personally, blaming the airline and the crew, and generally being so obnoxious that they were a pain for the rest of us.

It all worked out in the end. They re-boarded as many of us onto each plane as they could, putting two flights together on one plane, to ensure everyone getting to Dubai. This meant our luggage stayed on our initial flight, while we passengers flew on another plane. I finally arrived in Dubai 16 hours late, with no luggage. Russell was already waiting at our hotel, having had his own flight ordeal, and it was wonderful finally to be together.

I was too tired to celebrate my birthday, so we had an early dinner and went to sleep. I did have the presence of mind to wash out my underwear and socks, so I at least had those clean for the next day. My flight’s luggage was supposed to arrive that night, but the next morning revealed no luggage and damp undies. A few minutes with the hairdryer, and the latter were ready, so I was clean (at least next to my skin) and all set for breakfast. 

Our hotel, one of Dubai’s typical international-chain high-rises, had great food in all the restaurants, and we ate well the whole time, whether local dishes or other cuisines. Well-fortified, we set out to do a little shopping, because it was beginning to look like I’d have to do without my bag for quite a while. The small mall next to the hotel had a three-pack of undies. Then we were off to the souk to buy a shirt to go with the same old pants I’d been wearing for three days, plus a caftan to sleep in.

We got back to the hotel for lunch and called the airline for a luggage update. A very nice lady informed me that they had 8000 pieces of luggage they were trying to sort because of delayed flights, and they’d send mine to the hotel as soon as it was located.

It was too late to do much sightseeing, the afternoons being quite hot, so we decided to take in a movie at the mall. That probably doesn’t sound like a big deal to you, but for two people who never get to go to the movies and who adore films, it was a grand way to spend the afternoon. Dubai has one of the largest malls in the world, with a Cineplex numbering some 20 theaters. We lined up for tickets, cokes and popcorn, settled back in reclining seats and watched “Cold Mountain” in English with Arab subtitles.

As we left the cinema, I had a presentiment that we should go out to the airport. I was recalling years ago when I went to Guyana on a consulting assignment, and the airline lost all the team’s luggage, including 10 boxes of project materials. I managed to talk the Guyanese staff into letting me go into the warehouse, and there was all our stuff, just sitting in the tropical heat. I had the feeling history was repeating itself, so I suggested we flag a taxi and go out to the lost luggage facility.

And so we did. As we entered the office, I mentioned to Russell that my bag was shrink-wrapped. I got in line with my various documents and waited my turn. As I was standing there, R came up with the broadest grin I’ve ever seen him wear to announce that he’d found my bag. It seemed like a miracle. He led me over to a vast array of bags waiting to be processed and sure enough, there was my little shrink-wrapped bag! We picked it up, took it inside, had it processed and were out of there in no time.

Photo: Nations Online Project

With two days of our four-day holiday basically lost, we decided to make the best of those remaining. The next morning, we took a self-guided walking tour of the old section of town. Dubai is probably one of the most modern cities in the world, full of architectural marvels, wide boulevards and several grand shopping malls. But there are some old structures remaining, and we had a nice morning touring some of them on foot, not the least of which was the old fort, now converted into one of the best history museums I’ve ever seen. Below ground, so as not to interfere with the original structure, are dioramas of old Dubai that you walk through — the pearl-diving industry (which was the primary economic activity until oil was discovered), a traditional souk (they’re all cleaned up and over-hygienic now), a traditional family compound, etc. All of it fascinating. 

Once it got hot, we headed back to the mall and another film, this time Tom Cruise in “Samurai,” which turned out to be gorgeous to see, but boring to watch, if that makes any sense.

The next morning, we went to another old section of the city to see the emir’s renovated family compound and a nearby effort to recreate a trading village. The former was intriguing, but the latter was too touristy, a Disneyland version of the Middle East, rather than the real thing. I think Dubai is an interesting place, perfect for a long weekend. The only thing I fault them for is that they’ve gone overboard in trying to be modern and avant-garde, thus losing some of their precious heritage. 

That having been said, I’d be happy to return sometime, especially because our messed-up arrival prevented us from doing two things we’d hoped to do — a sunset cruise on a dhow and a sunrise camel-trek into the desert. Losing both of these was a real disappointment, because they’d seemed like the perfect way to celebrate the start my next life-chapter. Maybe we’ll go back one day and try them out.

The trip home was uneventful, in happy contrast to the trip there. Spring has sprung with daffodils, tulips and fruit trees in bloom. It’s just about my favorite time of year, so full of promise.