Saturday, February 16, 2008

Back in Dubai

What follows is an unstructured stream of "Terry"
Maybe you'll get it.
Maybe you won't.
I arrived at 2:30 am to the chaos that only Dubai airport can generate in the middle of the night.
Its a'n Asian/Arab/European crossroads.
A merging of very different currents which flow through this artery:
Workers without a hope contemplating dashed dreams and those getting plump off the land, secure in their expat tax free status. Then of course there's the Expedia/Orbitz/Travelocity crowd, clutching their vouchers, eager to see this Western friendly but "Arabic" place .
The PR machine has made Dubai an "It" destination.
It's still far more Essex than Monte Carlo.
The airport's a mad swirl of money and grim, sweaty, migrants squatting or lying head covered, waiting.
From -15 to + 28.
The breeze was fairly easy this morning but I remember the blast oven of prvious visits.
I've done it a 100 times and hardly notice anymore but smile to myself as I see the others, virgins, emerging into the smelly noise outside of the automatic doors.
A near silent whoosh and you're outside.
No more aircon.
They're wide eyed and nervous but tired.....
Looking for the smoking guy who is supposed to load them into a mini van and whisk them to a £200 a night bubble away from this unpleasent picture.
Of the folks who work and build and sweat and smell.
And don't gain a mention in the Sunday supplement stories about the "Jewel on the Gulf".
Jeeze there's a bit of an edge to this first look....
They needn't worry.
The swarms don't pay them any heed nor mean them any harm.
Which shows how generous they are.
Or maybe its just a matter of it being what it is.
It's more jarring in other places, India for instance, but it still makes this pale faced guy recognise in other faces what I once felt myself

Home Monday.
Thanks for reading through my cryptic little piece of self indulgence.
Sorry there are no pics, I've had neither the time nor the inspiration on this trip.
Be good.
T

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