From above, Dubai gleamed with wealth and artificial light. Our (Wizz air) pilot invited us to look through the windows to see the Burj Khalifa illuminated at night. Within a dark void stood a massive, colourful city with an irrepressible glow. Wide, long motorways weaved through the brightest parts of the city, and then turned sharply into the unknown darkness of the desert. Here we were, about to land in the United Arab Emirates.
From the plane, a bus drove us to the main terminal where an eerie silence awaited us. We were in the sole company of a few men dressed in long, white, Arabic gowns. The douanemannen wore keffiyehs: the traditional Arab head-cloak for men. As we queued to present our passports, we saw other passengers being led away. They were asked to await further instructions. “Passport irregular”, we heard.
We passed through the control with no issues. *FTUMP* Passport stamped (annoyingly not on the first page).
At the taxi stand, an Indian or Pakistani driver in a shirt and tie greeted us. He opened the boot for our suitcases, ready and excited to take us to our destination, but the Arab overseer prevented us from taking this taxi. He closed the boot violently and scolded the driver: “You are not first line!” The overseer took note of the licence plate of the driver’s car, banning him from working at the airport in the future.
Our hosts wished us a good morning, explained a few things about the house and area, and informed us that their MacBook went missing yesterday evening (before we arrived). The compound’s security quickly arrived, followed by the Emirati police; “Computer missing? Ah yes! Ah laptop yes ok… [some unintelligible Arab conversations]”.
The police have a reputation for cruel punishments following even the smallest of crimes. The day before, some Indian men had come to the house to buy some second hand DVDs. They rung back on hearing that there were security cameras on the house (a clever lie).
“Oh so sorry about the laptop. Do you want us to help you look for it in your house?” Expecting that they would miraculously find the laptop under a cushion somewhere. Our hosts agreed.
They came but were scared off by the compound’s security guards. They aimlessly wandered around the house, finding nor the laptop, nor their dignity.
Throughout our stay there were three things we enjoyed in Dubai: the old town and the Gold Souks, the Dubai Fountains and Downtown area, and the JBR beach. 4 full days were enough for us to see everything we wanted to see, and get a sense of Emirati lifestyle and social constructs, and understand why no one ever dares to walk outside. It’s just so hot, it’s egg-cooking hot and it’s unbearable.
The Gold Souk is a covered bazaar plenty of gold-filled shops on either side of the street, bustling with people. Rings, necklaces, bracelets, earrings, shirts, bras, chest protection, all in solide gold. Tourists and locals were wizzing past with crying babies whilst salesmen tried to sell a ring or two. I bought a hat. At an unacceptable price. Worst deal ever.
We ventured into the downtown area where most of new attractions were built, such as the Dubai Mall, the Burj Khalifa and the Fountains. It is all designed and built in the highest possible form of luxury and decadence. The mall is massive with shops, restaurants, some fountains, a hokey rink, a few cinemas, a stadium and a gigantic aquarium. Anything from Gucci and Dior to Burberry Children brands were open in glamorous massive shops. Every few hours the music in the mall would stop, some women and men conservatively-dressed would rush to the toilets, and the call to prayer would be broadcasted throughout the city. Though, as many workers were of Asian origins, and as such were not necessarily Muslims, they continued working throughout the Muezzin’s cry. In fact, all of the working people in the malls and shops were foreign, mostly from South-East Asia or the Indian Subcontinent.
Next to the mall stands the tallest building in the world. At 800-something meters, the tower seems to just about hit the sky, and yet you could still see human shadows behind the window-glass walls of the building. At the highest floor, there was light, and whoever was there had either a great view, or was too high up to see anything. In front of it is the intricately designed Dubai Fountains that dance and project water at the rhythm of music every half-hour after 6PM. Hundreds of people would flock to the edge of the artificial lake to witness the Fountains dance. Though next to me was a Nigerian man who, though he was standing right at the front, would rather look through his artistic selfies, than at the extravagant artwork.
More tall structures are to be seen along the main motorway. Pedestrians are rare and the city is conceived for cars. The whole experience was uncomfortable and nauseating at times with constant construction, heat and huge walking distances till the next taxi parking. We kept planning our day through malls. The heat was just unbearable, with temperatures reaching 35 Celsius under a clear blue sky, walking, or even just standing outside, was not an option between 9am and 5pm. We would walk this much to the metro station and take the tube to the Emirates Mall, then take another one to the Dubai Mall, have lunch there, and go to the Madinaat Mall.
The Dubai Mall would also present new construction plans for more islands to be build. These islands would comprise of roughly 5 huge villas each at the “wtf” price of a few million USD. Some islands would even come with regulated weather. The main island, built in stereotypical Swiss manner (that is sort of on a mountain in the middle of the sea with wooden houses, yeah Swiss) would at all times be kept under 5 degrees Celsius and snow would be provided/created for an authentic experience. How on earth they would manage to control weather patterns and dip the temperature as far down as 5 when in autumn it can reach 35C easily, remained a question stuck in our throats when we were presented with the project.
It is worth mentioning that the old town is populated by mostly middle-class Arabs, but that the vast majority, at least in Dubai, wear keffiyehs, white robes and stroll endlessly through the malls, in taxis or in their private cars. We were feeling less on the Arab Peninsula, and more on an island built for a class of people with too much time and money.
For us, Dubai was simply an overbearing experience, where there was too much of everything. The luxuries people would offer themselves, the extent of their construction endeavour and the will to build a city unlike any made us feel at times gross, and showed us the true meaning of a decadent culture. Yet Dubai is also an architectural wonder. You can like it or dislike it, but the skyscrapers the city harbours will for a long time remain as a testimony to a period when we thought we could build anything of any size in any shape. It is our Tower of Babel moment. The skyscrapers are amazing through their engineering achievement, but reflect the same will of humanity to stand the test of time. Just like the pyramids, the Burj Khalifa might be regarded as the remnants of a civilisation at its apogee, but the icon of a decadent elite.
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