Promise me, Buck!

Abu Dhabi is undoubtedly my favorite place I’ve been. ‘Place’ not being completely literal — although the sights were amazing — but ‘place’ being also emotional and mental. A five year-old traveling the world with her grandparents (Yaya and Buck)  and her cousins? I’d take that any day over physics homework. Especially because my parents were not invited. The question of why we even went in the first place I feel is necessary to add to the piece. As an annoying three year old, I would not let my grandfather forget a single thing he said and never failed to share this information with the world. Not a swear word, a secret only meant for my ears, and definitely not a promise.

From the time I was in my terrible twos until the end of my kindergarten years, my grandfather would spend three weeks out of the four in Abu Dhabi. Every time he left, I would ask when I could go with him. After a while, he reluctantly promised he would take me ‘later’; that’s right, he promised me when I was three that he would take me to Abu Dhabi when I was five, boldly assuming I would never remember. Wrong. He cut it pretty close, though. We went in December and I turned six in February. I feel he waited that long to extend his chances of getting out of it. But to give him the benefit of the doubt, he had to plan a trip to keep six children entertained for two weeks, so I guess that could take a while.

The trip goers consisted of me (duh), Drew (10), Tommy (10), Salmon (12), Johnny (14), Caroline (16), Yaya, and Buck. What? I invited some people. I didn’t want to go alone! Salmon, AKA Samantha to the losers, is my favorite cousin. She was the obvious choice because I loved salmon and her name was Sam which sounds just like salmon. Instant favorite. Caroline Sweet Buck is the name of my eldest cousin. Yes, Caroline Sweet, like the Neil Diamond song. This was not a coincidence; she’s named after the rockin’ tune. 

Admittedly, my memories of the trip and what really happened probably don’t have many overlaps considering I was five and, well, let’s just say my nickname was Hollywood. I imagine it wasn’t as drama-filled of an adventure as I remember. My priorities on what information to retain were definitely skewed. I, of course, decided that learning how to draw the famous “Superman S” from Salmon (who else would have needed the S) was a vital piece of information but I can't remember if the pretty white building we visited was a mall or a mosque. I vividly remember my cousin Drew bullying me and then teaching me how to run “properly” — to his 10 year-old mind, I apparently ran like a girl —but I don’t remember any of the mornings. According to my memory, I never had breakfast. 

Another memory that I decided was note-worthy was dune racing. Never heard of it? That’s because I made it up. My made up activity consists of a camel, glow-sticks, and a dune. Preparation: accept the fact that you will never be able to get rid of the sand from this mission. It’s been 12 years, and I still find grains of sand in my hair from time to time. On to the brief. Step 1: Hop on a camel and ride until your butt is past hurting and reaches completely numb status. You’ll know you’re there when on a pain scale of 1-10, you’re a 0 because you can’t even feel anything. Step 2: Gear up. Dress in your most durable and cozy clothing. It’s cold in the middle of the desert at night. You’ll also need to slap on vibrant glow-sticks from head to toe, too. The glow-sticks are essential. They ensure your Caroline can find you and guarantee your safe return to base — because there’s also no light in the middle of the desert at night. None. At all. Step 3: Remove the stinky camel blanket that you used as a saddle and hike up the dune. Step 4: Run and ride. Step 5: Repeat until Salmon convinces the boys to let you win for once. 

A second activity I could never forget? Ice-cream lobbing. Imagine this. You’re five in a literal candy land. Scoops of cold cream sailing through the air, sprinkles and cookie dough globs littering the counters, and you, with all of the choices in the world. A mint chocolate chip sundae with hot fudge and brownie batter piled on top of a sliced, caramelized banana with vanilla wafers? A grandchild's dream and a grandparents nightmare. Multiplied by six, because even a sixteen-year-old wouldn’t refuse flying food. Best way to burn off a sugar high? Practicing Drew’s new running techniques for me. 

Of course, a lot else happened on this trip. From the pictures, I can name a few: Ferrari World, falcon flying, and fishing. Somewhere between all of those “F” activities, we did actually visit the buildings where Buck had been spending his time, but that’s not what stood out to me. I didn’t care that Buck was a developer; I cared that he was my grandfather. A grandfather that kept his promise to me. Among all of the muddled “maybe memories” and “did this actually happen activities”, it must have been the trip of a lifetime because I actually remembered something after all.