Born in Edinburgh, my family moved to the Middle East when I was three months old, my mum going only on the fervent promises of my dad that it would only be for two years…28 years later they are still there (and still threatening to return to the old country). This meant that for much of my formative years, my passion and knowledge of gardening was honed in the harsh climate of the emirate of Sharjah in the UAE. To say growing any plants that would survive the herculean efforts of the arid landscape and environment was a challenge would be a colossal failure of an understatement. Just to give you some context, our house is situated atop of a filled-in salt lagoon (previously called Al-Ramtha lagoons), is home to 50 Celsius plus heat in the summer, drying Shamal winds from the desert interior, and one of the densest insect populations in the entire region. And if that was not enough the alkalinity of the soil is well above PH8, and the saltwater table is just over a meter below the ground level of our dune sand ‘topsoil’. Oh and just before I forget, the cherry on the cake as it were, over 98% of the country’s water supply is desalinated from the sea, at great cost to both the government and the consumer. One only has to look at the lack of vegetation in any meaningful sort of abundance within the natural landscape to understand that this may not be the most natural of places for plants to thrive.
Now, this is not to say that it is impossible to grow anything in this country. Indeed one only has to look at the roads, hotel gardens, or be an avid follower of golf to know that the UAE has managed to develop a green oasis of a city with verdant green lawns overshadowed by trees and plants from all over the world. Elegant North African date palms underplanted with striking Cannas from Australia. Cacti from Arizona standing in stark contrast next to lush bananas from Sri Lanka and verdant Mangos from the Philippines. However, there is a catch here and it is a rather big one, the garden’s on that scale and specification require a huge amount of labour and maintenance. Sand must be imported from the interior (where the wind and low humidity has resulted in low salt content) by the lorry load and must be mixed with chemically made fertilizers (to provide some nutrient quantity). Trees are added often imported from abroad, and irrigation systems must be installed by the kilometre. There are approximately at least three main seasons where flowers and plants must be taken out in favour of new more appropriate flowers that can deal with that specific season. In the winter months, watering is daily, in the summer months the sprinklers and drippers are on at least twice if not three times a day. And to cap it all off the artificial and highly intensive methods of maintenance give rise to soil born diseases most notably phytophthora (which aptly translates from the Greek meaning ‘plant-destroyer’), numerous insect plagues, and saltwater rising to corrupt the topsoil and roots, all of this meaning that the majority of the plants have a life cycle of little more than a couple of years, five at most, before the whole thing has to be ripped out soil and all, and started from scratch.
Now, this may be fine for the government and big companies that have the manpower, resources and cash to throw at the never-ending cycle of creation, destruction and renewal, but the average household owner would probably find this out of their reach. However, there are a few tricks that can be employed to get around both the weather and the many other painful factors mentioned above.
Design – Looking to the Past
Design is not just about aesthetics but also about ergonomics. How can plants grow and thrive amongst each other and, most importantly, in relation to the harsh conditions? I tend to look towards the historic agricultural techniques of the Emirati peoples in the oasis of Al Buraimi, and Omani people in the Hajar Mountains and on the fertile Batinah plains. Here they employ two methods of planting, one permanent and one temporary that is in the form of what we in the west would loosely term 'agroforestry'. This consists of a canopy layer, most notably the date palm and Indian almond tree which can take the brunt of the punitive summer climate whilst shading those beneath from the harsh desert sun. Beneath there is a sub-canopy layer of banana, pomegranate, and lemon trees, which in turn shade annual crops like onions and alfalfa. Water is pumped from aquifers deep below ground level and transported to the plants via small open canal water systems (called falaj, pl. aflaj). Horizontal space is at a premium, which makes these oases the plant version of the crowded skyscrapers of metropolitan Dubai.
This very design principle that has sustained the indigenous peoples of these lands until very recently for centuries, can be utilized, modified and updated to the urban gardens of today. And for that one needs to select plants for the job.
The Village of Misfat al Abriyeen, Oman
This is a fascinating post about gardening in the Gulf! The harsh environment you describe, with scorching sun, salty water, and alkaline soil, sounds incredibly challenging. It makes me even more appreciative of the lush gardens we see in photos.
You mentioned finding success with plants from all corners of the world. This is intriguing! Were there any particular adaptations you made to your landscaping practices to accommodate these exotic plants in such a harsh environment? For instance, did you use specific techniques for irrigation or mulching? Sharing some of these details would be a goldmine for anyone hoping to cultivate a bit of green in the Gulf.
Wow. Thank you for sharing this. very interesting.