Much of what our real-estate agent told us was a lie. Or the truth stretched to its breaking point.

And now we have caught him in another lie. Though we believed him when he said it … and can’t really get annoyed at him for dispensing a whopper.

It’s about the construction site right smack next to our Teeny Tiny Apartment.

When he first showed us our place, way back in November, we made note of the villa going up right next to it. A villa here being what they call a large, usually square, generally three-story building that routinely is diced and sliced into 10-12 apartments. Most people in Abu Dhabi live in some sort of villa; the tall residential apartments are far more common in Dubai.

The villa next door already had the walls up, and the roof on. And when I asked him about it, Mr. Yamen said, “Look, it is almost finished!” … and, well, it seemed that way to us, too. And we dropped the subject.

Turns out, he had no idea … and neither did we.

Two months later, the villa is anything but finished, and our cul-de-sac is anything but peaceful.

Workers are in that building seven days a week. Often, shortly after sunrise. Which would not be a problem if we were roosters.

The sounds that come out of that building, which is being cudgeled into shape by the typical crew of industrious south Asian construction workers, include …

–A whirring saw that we suspect is being used to cut stone for the floors. It also puts out an almost sweet, smoky odor, as it slices through the stone, and the smell of it wafts in our open windows. (It’s winter, after all, and in winter here you open windows.) The odor is an extra benefit to the ear-splitting noise.

–Some form of earth-rattling banging. It sounds as if it might be a pile-driver, but I now am leaning toward a really heavy sledgehammer being wielded by a powerful man. “Bang! Bang! Bang!” Pause … “Bang! Bang! Bang!”

–What we expect is a power-washer. One of those high-pressure hoses that blasts dirt and grit, etc., off surfaces. To prepare tile for laying? To get dirt off surfaces before painting. It isn’t quite like standing next to Niagara Falls, but it’s plenty noisy. And, really, it’s more of a rushing-air sound. A sort of pshhhhh!

–An industrial-strength sander. Maybe for the tile? Some other rough edges? It tends to run for longer stretches than does the rock-cutter, but it isn’t pitched so high. Not quite the same whining scream. Not as disturbing.

Anyway, in retrospect, the house next door was far from finished when we saw it in November. The inside must have been empty. No floors, no electricity, no water hookup — and at least a few things that needed to be pounded into shape.

We could have walked 20 yards and asked one of the guys, “Hey, when will this be finished?” But we didn’t. We Mr. Yamen said it looked almost finished, and we agreed. And our other excuse? We were preoccupied by the rest of the deal — how much the Teeny Apartment would really cost, whether they would give us a new mattress, if it was prone to flooding, when we would be able to get in …

The idea that the huge building next door wasn’t done … we didn’t do our due diligance and we took the uninformed opinion of Mr. Yamen as gospel.

And yes, we have heard about it … we continue to hear about it … every day. Ear plugs and really deep sleep are the only antidotes, so far.