5 Things You Didn't Know about the Summer in the Middle East

So you have heard that the temperature soars to 50 degrees in the noon time in the Middle East.. but did you know:

1. You can find burst car tyres on the roads. Something as small as a rock can do it cuz the roads are so hot and when the rubber hits the road in this weather, even a teeny tiny rock can have catastrophic consequences.

2. No one is smelly - Perfumes are sold in the truck load. The nationals here use Itr which is a concentrated version of perfume and as they walk by, you will only get hints of lemon, musk and Frankincense

3. This one is for my fellow ladies. Its wise to hestitate before you use the jet spray and taps in the bathrooms. The water here is so hot that I actually scalded my fingers today while trying to foam the face wash. You can imagine the rest of the 'challenges' on this one.

4. They wear a burqa for a reason. In the day time, it is criminal to subject your skin to those harsh rays. I once went out wearing shorts, thinking I need a 'cool look' for a hot day. I came back red and blistered. The clothing just protects you from the harsh sun.

5. Never leave your sunglasses in the car. Neil tried doing this once. And he's still applying aloe vera to the spot where the glasses sat on his face.

The Bottle That Travelled


Those who know me know that I come from a cross cultural background. My dad’s a rajput from Himachal and my mom’s a mallu. I speak a smattering of Malayalam, accented in all the wrong places and am mostly confused for a Bengali than, well, a mallu-rajput.

A day ago, my dad landed in Muscat Oman and brought with him a bottle of oil (?!) as a present for me. Which brings me to the subject of this story.

It all started when my mother visiting my house many months earlier made a heartbreaking observation. My hair wasn’t as lovely as it used to be. Now you have already been introduced to the fact that she is from Kerala. Add to this the revelation that ‘Leela aunty’ (pronounced Leela aundy) was in Chingoli, Kerala on one of her ayurvedic treatment trips and lo and behold, my mother had found a solution to all of my woes. A call was made at precisely 8pm Muscat time and Leela aunty was briefed.

2 days later 3 bottles wrapped in the local newspapers and restrained in a million rubber bands was handed over to Leela aunty. Leela aunty then handed them over to my uncle Joy (cuz only names in Kerala can be so vibrant) in his town of Chenngannur. The bottles were then handed over to his daughter who was visiting from Delhi, Shiny Chaychi (Malayalam for sister, she’s my cousin). Shiny Chaychi brought the bottles to Delhi and handed them over to someone in my dad’s church. On the next Sunday, after service, the bottles were handed over to my dad. My dad tied a few more rubber bands and cello taped it till a drop didn’t dare slither away. He boarded the flight to Muscat and arrived a day ago. Bottles in tow.

It took me a total of 30 minutes to unwrap one of these bottles. It had been mummified to the point that when the bottle actually revealed itself, it was a David of the Goliath of the layers of paper and cellophane that its personality once exuded. On the label, a scribbling of Malayalam.

For the sake of the travel its endured and the hands its changed, I hope my hair will be shiny once again.