It seems my post about Dubai struck a chord. I wrote that at my lowest — when I was particularly down and angry, for a couple of things (related to what I mentioned in the post). Coming back, at the time, from the land I love and feel free and happy in (the motherland, India), didn’t help either. I stumbled upon an old post I wrote 3 weeks after I got to Dubai, at another site, where I said “since I’ve got here, I’ve completed a book, joined the chattering expat classes, and tried to explore this frenetic, frustrating city. And I’m pleased to report it’s a frustrating city I’ve come to love.” I did? Did I really say love? What changed, then, especially if I can’t remember feeling that way now?
Certainly when I got here, I found it wasn’t difficult to assimilate, and I never once felt out of place. There were things I liked about it, perhaps even loved — things such as the ability to get into a car and drive, just drive (well, in my case, for other people to drive; while I ate potato chips or something), and head out into the desert, into Oman, which I love. I also moved here at the wrong time, and therefore will not pretend that what this city is for me is for other people. When I came in October, the economic crisis was slowly beginning to hit other parts of the world, but not here: here, they were still announcing massive projects, housing was getting out of hand… it was at the peak of the bubble. A bubble nobody ever thought would burst.
I liked it, then. This is a city that changes quickly: you can never get an up-to-date map of Dubai city. Every print version, by the time it goes to print, is horribly outdated. Roads have shifted, entire civilizations have sprouted up elsewhere, and things just aren’t where they were before anymore. The same with satellite images — that is the pace Dubai has been growing at. At the peak of the bubble, even though it was obnoxious, arrogant, and painful to deal with… it was still livable. It was confident. Assured.
It was difficult at the time to get any sense of realism from the city. You’d try to apply for credit cards, and find that nobody at the banks were really interested in giving you one — they had bigger fish to catch. I’d gone to car showrooms with friends, and seen customers come in ready to buy with deposits and all, and car salesmen would be completely uninterested in making the sale. “Come back later, we are closing now.” (Could this even happen anywhere else in the world? None of these car salesmen even needed to know a thing about the cars; they were that assured that if you didn’t buy it today, somebody will. Not tomorrow — but in the next couple of hours.) It was that way with houses and apartments you wanted to rent. The landlords never bothered to follow up on whether you wanted it, if you thought it was a reasonable price. If you had a problem with it — with handing over US$50 000 in one cheque, for example (they have a practice of paying for yearly rental in one or two cheques at a go), then it was your fault, and you had suck it up if you didn’t like it.
It felt unreal.
It was not uncommon, at the time, to hear comments from Western expatriates such as, “this is the best and safest place to ride out the economic crisis.” But how could it be?
Nothing about this city is sustainable. The property boom, led by the multi-million dollar apartments along Sheikh Zayed Road, are perhaps doable in the upturn. They were built for investment, not for living. “Every single gleaming tower along Sheikh Zayed Road was built for investors and speculators,” said Alex, gloomily. Alex is an investment banker who’d been here four years and who’s currently scrambling to leave — like everyone else, including myself. “It’s not sustainable. Who lives in them? Not you and I — we can’t afford it. Not the local families, they prefer living in their palatial villas. Investors and speculators. An awfully bad time for that now.”
Is the bubble bursting? I cannot say for sure. What I can say though, is that this city is losing the confident swagger it once had. It’s becoming grouchy, and so is everybody in it. “I can’t wait for the bubble to burst, for this fucking city to become real again,” a local groused to me in private.
I don’t wish it any ill. Despite my grievances, there are bits of this city that I wouldn’t trade for for anything else in the world. The parts I love, I really adore: the real, grimy Iranian restaurants in Bur Dubai, the beautifully restored cafes in Arabian courtyards in Bastakiya, abra rides across the creek, the wealth of experiences just a few hours away in Al Ain, Ras al Khaimah, Fujairah, Abu Dhabi, Sohar, Liwa, Muscat. When I go in March, I will have accomplished several things with my writing and with my photography that I would not have had the chance with, elsewhere.
So is it a terrible city to move to? No — if you are certain you have professional opportunities in Dubai that you would not get elsewhere, I would say it is a doable city. It’s just very easy to get suckered into the hectic lifestyle. If you are able to make the effort to avoid being suckered into the lifestyle of cars, clubs, shopping and work (you can say this of any city in the world: but here more than anywhere else), and go out there and explore the Middle East as you should, with Dubai as your base, it can be a fulfilling experience.
In the end, cities are like the people you meet: you fall madly in love with them, you end up fast friends, you never get them at all… or you don’t mind them, but you never quite seek them out. Right now, I hate the major inconveniences of living in a place like this… but Dubai, for me, as it is for many people, is the transient city for which there is a sell-by date. Mine just happens to have come early; but not before I managed to milk it for what it was worth.
And when I do go, I suspect that I might leave happily, but with more good memories than I currently give it credit for. The wonderful people I’ve met, for one, and the gorgeous places I get to go from here… that wouldn’t have been possible anywhere else.
Yemen, Turkey, Syria, Oman, and all through the UAE. I’ve had my share of fun here, and more camels to last me (and all of you) a lifetime.
possibly related
On/Off Road /
This is Dubai /
Ten Things I Am Learning About Dubai /
What Will Happen When You Move to Dubai /
fortylove.tv – coming soon /
Dubai, Redux
It seems my post about Dubai struck a chord. I wrote that at my lowest — when I was particularly down and angry, for a couple of things (related to what I mentioned in the post). Coming back, at the time, from the land I love and feel free and happy in (the motherland, India), didn’t help either. I stumbled upon an old post I wrote 3 weeks after I got to Dubai, at another site, where I said “since I’ve got here, I’ve completed a book, joined the chattering expat classes, and tried to explore this frenetic, frustrating city. And I’m pleased to report it’s a frustrating city I’ve come to love.” I did? Did I really say love? What changed, then, especially if I can’t remember feeling that way now?
Certainly when I got here, I found it wasn’t difficult to assimilate, and I never once felt out of place. There were things I liked about it, perhaps even loved — things such as the ability to get into a car and drive, just drive (well, in my case, for other people to drive; while I ate potato chips or something), and head out into the desert, into Oman, which I love. I also moved here at the wrong time, and therefore will not pretend that what this city is for me is for other people. When I came in October, the economic crisis was slowly beginning to hit other parts of the world, but not here: here, they were still announcing massive projects, housing was getting out of hand… it was at the peak of the bubble. A bubble nobody ever thought would burst.
I liked it, then. This is a city that changes quickly: you can never get an up-to-date map of Dubai city. Every print version, by the time it goes to print, is horribly outdated. Roads have shifted, entire civilizations have sprouted up elsewhere, and things just aren’t where they were before anymore. The same with satellite images — that is the pace Dubai has been growing at. At the peak of the bubble, even though it was obnoxious, arrogant, and painful to deal with… it was still livable. It was confident. Assured.
It was difficult at the time to get any sense of realism from the city. You’d try to apply for credit cards, and find that nobody at the banks were really interested in giving you one — they had bigger fish to catch. I’d gone to car showrooms with friends, and seen customers come in ready to buy with deposits and all, and car salesmen would be completely uninterested in making the sale. “Come back later, we are closing now.” (Could this even happen anywhere else in the world? None of these car salesmen even needed to know a thing about the cars; they were that assured that if you didn’t buy it today, somebody will. Not tomorrow — but in the next couple of hours.) It was that way with houses and apartments you wanted to rent. The landlords never bothered to follow up on whether you wanted it, if you thought it was a reasonable price. If you had a problem with it — with handing over US$50 000 in one cheque, for example (they have a practice of paying for yearly rental in one or two cheques at a go), then it was your fault, and you had suck it up if you didn’t like it.
It felt unreal.
It was not uncommon, at the time, to hear comments from Western expatriates such as, “this is the best and safest place to ride out the economic crisis.” But how could it be?
Nothing about this city is sustainable. The property boom, led by the multi-million dollar apartments along Sheikh Zayed Road, are perhaps doable in the upturn. They were built for investment, not for living. “Every single gleaming tower along Sheikh Zayed Road was built for investors and speculators,” said Alex, gloomily. Alex is an investment banker who’d been here four years and who’s currently scrambling to leave — like everyone else, including myself. “It’s not sustainable. Who lives in them? Not you and I — we can’t afford it. Not the local families, they prefer living in their palatial villas. Investors and speculators. An awfully bad time for that now.”
Is the bubble bursting? I cannot say for sure. What I can say though, is that this city is losing the confident swagger it once had. It’s becoming grouchy, and so is everybody in it. “I can’t wait for the bubble to burst, for this fucking city to become real again,” a local groused to me in private.
I don’t wish it any ill. Despite my grievances, there are bits of this city that I wouldn’t trade for for anything else in the world. The parts I love, I really adore: the real, grimy Iranian restaurants in Bur Dubai, the beautifully restored cafes in Arabian courtyards in Bastakiya, abra rides across the creek, the wealth of experiences just a few hours away in Al Ain, Ras al Khaimah, Fujairah, Abu Dhabi, Sohar, Liwa, Muscat. When I go in March, I will have accomplished several things with my writing and with my photography that I would not have had the chance with, elsewhere.
So is it a terrible city to move to? No — if you are certain you have professional opportunities in Dubai that you would not get elsewhere, I would say it is a doable city. It’s just very easy to get suckered into the hectic lifestyle. If you are able to make the effort to avoid being suckered into the lifestyle of cars, clubs, shopping and work (you can say this of any city in the world: but here more than anywhere else), and go out there and explore the Middle East as you should, with Dubai as your base, it can be a fulfilling experience.
In the end, cities are like the people you meet: you fall madly in love with them, you end up fast friends, you never get them at all… or you don’t mind them, but you never quite seek them out. Right now, I hate the major inconveniences of living in a place like this… but Dubai, for me, as it is for many people, is the transient city for which there is a sell-by date. Mine just happens to have come early; but not before I managed to milk it for what it was worth.
And when I do go, I suspect that I might leave happily, but with more good memories than I currently give it credit for. The wonderful people I’ve met, for one, and the gorgeous places I get to go from here… that wouldn’t have been possible anywhere else.
Yemen, Turkey, Syria, Oman, and all through the UAE. I’ve had my share of fun here, and more camels to last me (and all of you) a lifetime.
possibly related
On/Off Road / This is Dubai / Ten Things I Am Learning About Dubai / What Will Happen When You Move to Dubai / fortylove.tv – coming soon /