DUBAI LAYOVER, UNITED ARAB EMIRATES

2016-07-30, 5:17, JASON

BUDGET, STAY: ROYAL FALCON HOTEL

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Our friends were getting married in Denmark, and so we had to plan for a trip to Europe (that's where Denmark is HUR) to attend their wedding. This would be the first time for us out of Southeast Asia, after having made a home here for the past year-and-a-half. As many of you know, we attempt to travel on a dime and emphasize that you can experience different parts of the world, or your neighborhood, within your limitations (money, passport, time, etc). So, if we were going to fly all the way to Denmark for a wedding, then we were going to go stretch our dollar. That meant capitalizing on international layovers.

Surprisingly, the cheapest flight to Denmark included a layover in Dubai that arrived around 13:10 and left again 08:00 the following day. We knew that, given our position in S.E. Asia, we would not get this opportunity again, so we decided to book this ticket. This blog post and the subsequent few (if you're reading chronologically from the front page or archive) are our travels from our trip to Denmark, which include: 1) A stopover in Dubai, 2) various parts of Denmark, 3) various parts of Germany, and 4) a final layover in Colombo Sri Lanka. So, here's Dubai.

I have to start witih the flight. We aren't used to full-service airlines, and we managed to secure flights on Emirates. We got so excited when we were put on a flight that included free meals, free charging of phones and mobile devices, an entertainment system, as well as free booze (even a Baileys with your coffee). It's ridiculous -- it's even gotten to the point where, as chintzy as we are, falling asleep on this flight is almost considered a waste of money. I'm typing part of this entry on our final leg of the journey into Copenhagen, listening to Grace Jones' landmark Nightclubbing album. ~Night clubbing.... . What a sultry beat.

The meals were also amazing, here's a picture of them. And, yes it's boiled down to celebrating airline food. 

So, even for the economy class ticket, Emirates has been a solid experience so far. Our experience has been trying to get as many bottles of red wine and Baileys with our coffee as possible, so we can indulge a bit. We're back to budget flights after this.

The next part I have to emphasize is the landing. Not the fact that it was smooth, but the absolute breathtaking scenery as you peered out the airline window and overlooked the city. Out in the distance, maybe an artificial oasis constructed by the city. An odd, deep pool of blue water surrounded by a dense green brush contrasted against the arid landscape. The dustiness caused by the desert winds stirred into the lithosphere, with the suns rays trying to break through, creating a beige smear across the desert air. The buildings, all offshades of white and brown, probably categorizable only by a homeowners color palette of wall painting colors -- eggshell, cream, pastel, latte -- all blending in with the surrounding sand. Their arrangement is perfectly built, resembling an architectural plan, such that when you viewed from above, it was like a little anthill with the occasional crop circle. And, jutting out, the mineret, the most prominent landmark of the mosque. It was surreal to be landing in the Middle East. 

We hop onto the metro that is connected to the airport (+1 for countries that do this), and get off at Salah Al Bin, the metro stop that is right outside our hotel, check in, feel the weight of the 45 Celsius weather, and get on our way.

The metro is smooth running, and the floor is decorated with some 70s inspired design, the odd square of blue and beige (they really love their beige here..) layered on the floor, surrounded by some sea of sky blue flooring color. I try to learn how to say "doors are closing" and "the next station is" in Arabic but fail miserably. I don't even attempt to read the Arabic, written right to left. Each sentence written is like a foreign piece of art to me. We get off at Al Fahidi, one of the oldest parts of the city with an ancient, preserved fort to go check out the museum.

Most buildings that we passed were low rise, probably no taller than three stories high, with clothes hanging out of them much like in Singapore. The area around Al Fahidi is still pretty residential, with shops and restaurants occupying the lower floors, but not much else. Again, you come across one standard building color, probably mostly an off beige, with a slight variation in shade, but never hue. And, the buildings are all very simple, symmetrical and cubic, with the occasional window that has the shapes of flowers carved into it. Every once in a while, you would come across a small pit that was just filled with sand -- a sandlot, of sorts -- between the buildings. This almost looked as if someone had left the original sand there and decided not to move it at all after building the units there. The town had all the feel of a desert town, like we were nomads wandering around with that desert sun beating down on our backs. Our backs covered with dripping sweat, but that wind cooling it down and evaporating it. By the time we found Al Fahidi fort, my shirt was pretty wet, but it was like we'd found the oasis in the desert: a nice oasis of A/C and a bit of history. 

As you enter the fort, there are a few exhibits laid out of life in Dubai before its massive commercialization. They were mostly remnants of desert life and the home. They had model constructions of the kitchen, the bedroom, etc. Most of it was pretty standard, all designed in a way for people to keep (obviously) cool. We thought there wasn't much to see, so we browsed quickly, and then entered one of the towers that took us downstairs. True to the design of the bedrooms, they had built the entire museum underground where it was a lot cooler! 

The museum detailed the growth from Dubai into a small, desert town into a thriving multicultural city. Yes, multicultural, I'll touch on that a bit. It started off as a remnant of a tiny walled city, situated along the river, harvesting it as a resource. It's interesting to see nomadic cultural develop in a desert and to see how people historically have made their existence. Pearl diving, falconry, and camel raising were all integral parts of their livelihoods, driven largely by their proximity to the ocean and the need to travel long distances in non humid environments. Given the weather as well, a staple food source was date palms which they would cultivate as food. Through the development of the area and the discovery of oil, the area quickly fluorished and, in the process, was incorporated formally into the newly established United Arab Emirates in the 70s. What's interesting is the claim of a certain Emirati identity even though the country only had recently drawn its borders. So, the language they use in trying to capture Emirati-ness is largely done through tribal Sheikh bloodlines, in addition to national boundaries. This made the narrative a bit contrived. Another thing was the glorification of Islam in the museum, from saying how it "is an easy religion to follow" and how, for this reason, it spread to various parts of the world. But, this isn't unique to the UAE. Everyone country does it in its memorialization of culture.

I was mentioning earlier about the diversity in the city. Based on the perspective you get in the west, you expect most women to wear the most conservative dress (burqa) and the men to mostly wear long, flowing gowns. What the city actually comprised of was various people of nationality in the South Asian continental sphere, and migrant labor from Southeast Asia (read: Filipinos, and Indonesians). Much of the shopkeepers as well as hotel staff were all from Pakistan, India, or The Philippines. Even the tourist shop owner in Al Fahidi Fort were two Filipinas! Aside from the street food, many of the other restaurants that you would see were Filipino buffets and Chinese food. Around the corner, Pakistani delicacies and Indian snacks. It was only later that we realized that Emiratis don't want other Emirati's doing blue collar or service industry jobs, much is the case for Singapore. The same goes for domestic helpers. You would see an Emirati family followed closely behind by its children, and a few steps behind, the maid. For a country that has depended so much on its foreign labor force to do work, you surely see it in the diversity of people. On the metro system, it's even more obvious. Another ethnic group we encountered were the Muslim African diaspora. At Al Fahidi fort, we saw a guy speaking African-inflected English (and, you'll have to apologize for me using general 'African' to describe the accent since I can't distinguish between a Nigerian, Tanzanian, Kenyan, Ghanaian, etc. African-English variety). We nearly lost our pants. I had to change mine on the way out.

After a surprising tour underground of Old Dubai, we resurfaced and made our way to the riverfront. We walked through a tiny outdoor souk (the Emirati/Arabic word for a bazaar) to get there. It was a narrowing alley of wooden houses with tendors having set up wonderful displays of their fabrics and goods. When we walked past, the occasional tout for us to try on their fabric (not sure as what, to be honest), but we kindly refused. It was an honor to be touted. Either they thought we had money (jokes on them) or that's how the old bazaars / street marketing culture works here. Either way, just walking about 5 minutes through was an experience in itself. It felt like you were going back in time to the local markets.

As we emerged from the souk, I nearly lost my breath, bein absolutely blown away by the scenery. The same low-rise horizon of beige houses across the river, and on our side, old docked boats and the Grand Mosque behind us, sounding the Call to Prayer. It felt uncomfortably out of place and so surreal, that we had landed in Dubai and we were getting a glimpse of the old life here, not just the glitz of the new, developed city. Not just the Burj Khalifa and The Dubai Mall, but what has been here and persists in its shadow. 

Our next stop was Al Bastakiya, which was a collection of recreated old-style Emirati houses, now populated by no one but the occasional cafe selling overpriced priced Turkish coffee since the area was vying for UNESCO status (which should tell you enough). Upon entering, a lot of the walls looked pretty new, but it maintained some old architectural styles: the windows with fancy designs, usually floral, and winding staircases up to second floors that you could overlook the first floor from. Because the place was so deserted, it gave it an "after-hours" feel, when the town would retire after the heat of the day had passed. We just wandered around and took a look at some of the architecture and wandered down the streets, then were promptly on our way to find some street food. 

After picking up some shwarma, we decide to walk over the the 2nd of December Road, where we would go to another shop to try some of their famous chicken shwarma. After getting out at the World Trade Center station, you see the modern Dubai, all inclusive of the tall skyscrapers as advertised in the postcard. Thousands of businesspeople, dressed professionally, walking around looking busy. Same story everywhere, except here the skyscrapers are taller, the streets wider, and the experience was more grandiose overall. It's barren like a business park though, without much to do surrounding it, but that's almost a universal trait for the CBD. The only difference is that now familiar desert wind blowing against your face. We're a bit hesitant to walk all the way to the restaurant as it doesn't look anywhere in sight (it is about 1.5 kilometers away), but we decide to do it anyway as we're only in Dubai once. 

For the first half of the walk, you're still surrounded by large empty roads. Imagine the outskirts of Vegas. The pedestrianized areas are there but they're rather sparse and unnecessary -- no one actually uses them since most people have jumped in a car to get to where they need to go. Every once in a while, the occasional wanderer will appear on these sidewalks, seemingly aimless in their endeavor. This was us. But, as we turned down one of the roads, we start noticing the street coming to life. Still low rise housing, but now restaurants popping up, hairdressers along the side, men stuck in small buildings with massive pies of dough rolling naan, and a liveliness to the town comes through. Now, it really felt like we were in a modern version of the Al Bastakiya area, where there was trade going on, cars driving by and waiting in traffic, and people bustling everywhere. No, it was different from the business people. People weren't trying to look busy. They were busy. Doing what? I don't know, but people looked like they were going somewhere.

As we were walking through, we looked and behind us the skyline of tall buildings still stood loud in the background, but now we were in a very different part of town. We were in the part of the town that housed the people who built modern Dubai. A more ethnic area compose of the migrant workers. After reaching Al Mallah restaurant and eating their delicious food (including a variety of sheep brain wrap), we decided to walk back in a different direction and take a stroll actually through the migrants' quarters, en route to the Burj Khalifa. We started along more crowded streets, passing by Al Satwa Mosque, where call was being done. Then, shortly thereafter, we dove into the residential quarters. 

There was something so moving about walking through that area. Here we were, in a small humble area, and off in the skyline you were able to see the city built for Man, built for Sin, and built for consumption and capitalism: the product of recent decades of rich oil money. But here in the quarters, a certain humility and intense human spirit. We peered into some of the rooms and there were people just hanging around, a couple of bunks to a single room, and people sitting outside of their house. The human labor pushing the development of the world, without a share in it. Perhaps there was a sense of hopelessness but as the tourist observing in, I can't write this narrative without sounding at least privileged in 'feeling sorry' for them when, in reality, I was the one just stopping by on a layover. I can't say that oh, their lives are so impossibly deject because that's what I think the migrant experience is here. In fact, it could very well be the opposite. They're quite often the most laborious and perseverant, and in that sense, they really capture the struggle (maybe some would say the essence) of the human condition. Being able to walk through there was an amazing experience. It felt like you were part of an old town in the desert, where the streets were alive with noise, but still there was a desert calmness. This was probably my favorite part of the trip. I still couldn't comprehend that we were looking at skyscrapers in the background from a low-rise, more impoverished area. They were about 3 kilometers apart. 

After getting a sense of that area, we decided to head to the most commercial of places: The Dubai Mall and the Burj Khalifa. We took the metro into Burj Khalifa stop, and walked about 10 minutes on travellators to enter the mall, and what a contrast we noticed. First of all, we actually noticed Emirati people. Men dressed in their kandura, a long white flowing robe, with the keffiyeh red colored headscarves. Women dressed in their abaya, a black cloak covering most parts of the body but their eyes. And, that's when it struck Thorin and me. We were always wondering what 'Emirati' looked like. In Malaysia, when you say Malaysian, it conjures up an image. Do we imagine an ethnic Malay, a Chinese Malay, an Indian Malay? Same goes for Singapore. And then, what do we mean when we hear Emirati? So far in our experience walking around, we mostly encountered people from Pakistan, India, and the Philippines. So what did an 'Emirati' person look like? Was there a specific look? Yes, and it came down to the dress. The Emiratis wore their traditional dress. The reason we didn't see any of the Emiratis in the other areas outside of the rich area was because there wasn't anything worth going for there in their eye The mall was the place to be seen, the place to spend money, and to enjoy oneself. And suddenly, in a country that would have seemed to have about 0.5% Emirati people based on the places we had been going, we suddenly recalibrated our mathematics and it came out to moreso about 15%. They were actually visible, no longer a minority in their own country. The only other place they were as visible was the airport customs lines. But, that was in a formal working setting. In the mall, they were there with their families, enjoying time with their kids, and having coffee together. Some shops only had Emirati men sitting and chatting over a Turkish coffee. The physical manifestation of class separation was so lucid when compared to the area we had just arrived from. Just based on this association, you could tell there was a status and symbol to being Emirati. It was the ultimate in classism I've seen, a certain regality to their poise and position just through their association with others and each other. A kind of over-the-top sophisticated air.

To top off the Emirati image, there was the Burj Khalifa. I'm going to high school out on you guys and say a huge "O M G" because that's truly what it was. There was a small fountain separating the base of the Burj Khalifa with us, and afterwards you would just look up for what seemed like miles to the top to see this sparkling wonder of human architectural achievement. Yes, the building was lit up and sparkling like a Christmas tree against the hazy desert sky. I couldn't even fathom how big it was, how tall it was, and how much splendor it was emanating. It was magnificent. I felt like God looking up -- not down -- at his creation and just marveling at the work I'd done. At the work humans have done and how much they had achieved. It was just such a pillar to that aptitude. And, to make it even better, about five minutes in to us being out there, the pond in front burst out with a watershow. And, that was even more splendid. The water show was ten times more exciting than the O one in Vegas. The water shot way higher, the formations were a lot more complex, and there had been so much intricate detail in making so fucking spectacular that you couldn't help but be in awe. Seriously, that exhibit was so over the top that it exceeded the "too much" category. It was too extraordinary to just be categorized as "over the top." It was simply omnipresent.

So what was our conclusion about Dubai, after having reflected about it and spent a day in it? It's what I thought it wouldn't be: this weird hodgepodge town that is artificial in some ways, but so authentic in others. I never thought I'd really have the ambition to go to the Middle East unless the world brought me there by convenience, which this time it did. And maybe it did for good reason. This area is the heart of early civilization, agriculture and religion, and continues to be an important geo, social, and political juncture in the world. For such an important area, I'm surprised I hadn't visited sooner. 

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