Monday, December 04, 2006

Out to Lunch

Newcomers always wonder if it ever rains here.


Il pleut, il mouille
C'est la fête à la grenouille
Quand il ne pleuvera plus
Ce sera la fête à la tortue!

It's raining, it's pouring;
The old man is snoring.
He went to bed and he
Bumped his head
And he couldn't get up in the morning.

Rain, rain, go away
Come again some other day
We want to go outside and play
Come again some other day

Actually, when it rains here, most people want to drop everything and rush outside.

I remember a trip back to the UK after a long spell here.
There was a light shower while we were in a pub garden having lunch. All the 'locals' gathered up their belongings and rushed inside. We rushed into the open, and stood there with our heads back, mouths and arms open to catch every drop, and we didn't care who laughed!

Pity the residents of Sharjah with jobs in Dubai. If Sharjah has drains, they're full of sand, and flooding has reduced the arterial road to one lane for the last three days, so it can take four hours to get to work. And then you have to get home.

Stuck in traffic for two hours to go half the distance yesterday, in a tailback that stretched from around Safa Park, down the Sheikh Zayed Road, and on the Al Khail Road and Emirates Road too, all the way to Sharjah, I was impressed with the patience and forbearance of our fellow sufferers. For once, most people seemed to accept that everyone had an equal right to get home, and there was very little queue-jumping.

After the first hour, our sainted driving buddy and I whiled away the time with spirited renditions of everything we (mostly she) could remember from My Fair Lady, Cats, Phantom of the Opera, Joseph And The Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat (and we could remember plenty of that one from her school show in 1990-something, and our school show in 1970-something), while Habibi, who had neglected to Go-Before-We-Set-Out, and Doesn't-Like-Musicals, gazed out on the rain-lashed world with crossed legs and gritted teeth.


And for the rest of you still en route for Sharjah, try this for size!


by Don Lockwood


I'm singing in the rain
Just singing in the rain
What a glorious feelin'
I'm happy again
I'm laughing at clouds
So dark up above
The sun's in my heart
And I'm ready for love
Let the stormy clouds chase
Everyone from the place
Come on with the rain
I've a smile on my face
I walk down the lane
With a happy refrain
Just singin',
Singin' in the rain

Dancin' in the rain
Dee-ah dee-ah dee-ah
Dee-ah dee-ah dee-ah
I'm happy again!
I'm singin' and dancin' in the rain!


Daddy in Law said...

I don't believe it, it was always raining elsewhere when I was there,
ne-er a drop did see

halfmanhalfbeer said...

Wasn't it unbelievable, I thought it would never stop? Shame about the rugby. Still a lunch in JBH that started at 1.00pm and finished at 8.30pm seemed to make amends!

Daddy in Law said...

seven and a half hour lunch? you ought to have had more than half a beer in that time

Anonymous said...

great stuff! There is something after a good downpour that clears the air, so you stand out in it the same as me then...

Dance like no-ones watching..


trailingspouse said...

My sister (from the UK) came down to breakfast in her hotel and was asked by the waiter if she had enjoyed the rain the previous day. He was rather miffed when she said no!

Grumpy Goat said...

The rain it raineth on the just
And also on the unjust fella;
But chiefly on the just, because
The unjust steals the just's umbrella.

(Lord Bowen)