And I Feel So Much Depends on the Weather
The breeze blows and my arms lift almost involuntarily to receive the cool air. “That feels so good, doesn’t it buddy,” I say to Huey. He and I set out on our morning walk an hour later than the previous three days and I’m delighted to feel the continuous soft touch of sea air on my skin. One week in Abu Dhabi and I’ve already learned our regular 3 mile morning stroll serves as a harbinger for how the rest of the day will go.
Will it be pleasant enough to spend some time outside?
My journal clearly points to a hyperfixation on the weather; each entry contains some description on the day’s temperature, humidity, and my level of comfort. I’m not surprised by this preoccupation. Stories of summers in the Arabian Sea surrounded United Arab Emirates caused my biggest apprehensions about our move here, how the heat and humidity trap you indoors and walking to and from your car will be your only taste of the outdoors. As I’ve stated many times, my mental health is a high maintenance bitch and she requires as much sunshine, fresh air, and movement as possible. How was it, how was I, going to survive Middle Eastern desert life?
Aware of how July and August morph this part of the world into a wet sauna constructed in hell, I postponed my move to early September and hoped for the best. I anticipated a wall of heat as I stepped onto the jet bridge after a fourteen hour flight from Seattle, but I only felt cold air. An apropos introduction to my new home, I’d read on several Reddit threads to always carry a sweater, especially during summer’s apex, as every indoor space is blasted with air conditioning cool enough for a penguin to sleep deeply in. This included the jet bridge. The climate controlled walkway meant I would have to wait until I exited the Dubai airport to get a real feel for the weather.
Stepping into the evening darkness for the first time, my glasses immediately fogged up from the humidity, but I was pleasantly surprised by how tolerable the air was. Sure, it was like being enveloped in a blanket, but it was more lightweight fleece than wool. It was night, however. Daylight would give me my most accurate taste of my new climate.
Jetlag propelled me awake early on Friday and me and Mesh and stepped outside for a stroll just as the sun was coming up. Once more, I found the temps and mugginess more bearable than Florida at this time of year. Sweat formed at my hairline but didn’t come anywhere close to dripping. This wasn’t bad at all. But would I feel the same way at midday?
Errands beckoned us out that afternoon. We spent over an hour in a hypermarket, the UAE’s version of a Target. Even with a light hoodie worn over my sleeveless tie dye dress, I was freezing. It was a relief to leave the store, the heat warmed my skin without cooking my insides. Don’t get me wrong. It is sweltering. Shade offers a small respite but this is not a dry heat. You breathe in blistering air. However, I was expecting the worst (yay for low expectations) and this was not unbearable.
I expressed my delight to Mesh. “I can stay outside in this.” Not to play sports or go for a hike (no place to hike here anyway SAD FACE), but to lay on the beach or poolside with a book and go for a swim, YES. And I have every intention of leaning in to #beachlife.
We’re temporarily staying at an apartment on a tiny manmade Island built to serve as a marina. A 2.5 mile waterfront promenade encircles a neighboring island and makes the best walking path. I spoke with my parents for the first time on Sunday and described my morning routine three days in, even commenting how I hardly break a sweat during my strolls.
And jinx.
Huey arrived late Sunday night and we received him from the courier service who coordinated our pup’s very complicated across-the-world move at 4:30 AM. Walking into the parking garage to meet Huey and his escort, a wall of inescapable heat enveloped me. Within minutes, a layer of sweat coated my body. Out in the open air, the temperature dropped considerably while the extreme humidity attacked. I took Huey on an abridged version of my morning walk and experienced by first dripping wet sweat walk. I had already planned to stick inside close to our reunited pup for the day and was thankful for that.
Tuesday rose under worse conditions. High temps accompanied the thick air. Nevertheless a dog needs his exercise and we endured the entire circuit around the marina. Huey panted and I poured perspiration so excessively I needed to change from one set of athleisure into another for my own workout. Going outside was like scaling the rim of a volcano. We only left the air conditioning for bathroom breaks. Quick ones. A salty sheen effortlessly leaked from my pores. Mesh, here since early July, said it was the most brutal day yet.
That was two days ago. On a relative level, the extremes have abated to the orange colors representing heat on a map rather than the red. I’ve not gushed sweat during my dog walks and both mornings turned into afternoons “pleasant” enough to sit by the pool, hence the fortune telling discovered in my daily 5K. Unfortunately, one week into my new country and I’ve been too busy settling into a groove to spend anytime reading near a body of water. Maybe next week. The weather may even be a little better by then.
