Saturday, September 01, 2007

Dubai International Airport

This is something of a reunion and there is the air of the familiar as I transit through here. We landed at 5.30 am but time of arrival or departure seems to make little difference here since it is always crowded with transients. This is definitely a utilitarian hub, focused squarely on shifting people through. But in so doing we are all forced to walk though a quite remarkable duty free shopping centre. In actual fact shopping is probably the main reason for the existence of this hall. If you are ever looking for the definition of a melting pot, use this place as your template. Africans, many in their national dress, come in from the south. Those tall and elegant ones from the Horn of Africa seem to float through the shambles, regal in their bearing and not being reduced by the confusion. Groups of Russian men heading who knows where but all smoking their heads off (outside the smoking refuges) and slapping each other’s back in uproarious good humour. Arabs in all the variety of their dress, some completely covered, while others in Western hip hop fashion. A group of ten year old girls from Malaysia all asleep in a circle on the floor, their yellow T-shirts advertising their school. A very high number of workers from South Asia who are the most stoic of the lot, in small groups squatting with arms resting on their knees, watching through the forest of legs that drill past them. A squatting clutch of Korean men compare their visa applications. They look like construction or shipyard workers as well. And here too are the numerous Filipinos in transit to more prosperous times for their families, but via the hard graft of being exploited for their labour in this part of the world. Holidaying Brits and other Europeans make up a large part of the population, pasty skinned or fried and the duty free shops do a roaring trade with them. But it is the poorly dressed single men who clutch their papers, even (especially) as they sleep across the carpet and clutter up the walkways. Some of them snowy haired and aged. Many in simple attire, some in nothing more than rags. With sandals on their feet, rarely shoes. Some look lost, most have a resigned air about them. Where are they going? Where are their families? Are they leaving loved ones or heading home? How long are they away? (A porter in a hotel in Saudi once told me he gets home to see his wife and children in Sri Lanka once every six years!) What on earth do they make of the obscene wealth on display on the duty free floor below? What are their dreams? Do they have any dreams? Can you dream for something better when you have nothing? Or is that all you do? And that, after all, is what Dubai is about – dreams. Dreams of fabulous wealth for those who have nothing, and dreams of fabulous entertainment for those who have. And dreams of freehold real estate and more sunny days than rainy days per year for those who crave those things but who fall somewhere in the middle. This airport of course is only a mirror of what is being lived outside in the dusty 38 degree heat.


Anonymous said...

The lady at Dubai International Airport.

I was at Dubai International Airport to connect my flight to Bombay on July 13, 2008.

I had an eight hour transit time and I was reading a book entitled "Secrete" at one of the cafes on the transit lobby.

A very preaty lady was infront of me while I was reading my book. I didn't expect that we will have this power of communicating just by looking each other. At some point, she stopped looking at me and strated to contrrol my movements. I was creazy and very much interested to talk to her. But I wasn't quite sure as to what would she say/think if I did it.

I left my desk to see my departure gate at the information desk and something pulled me back to see here if she is there or not. I couldn't belive my eys. In just 2/3 minutes time, she has left her table.

I started to run around and see her if she was in one of the gates, I couldn't find her. Then, I sat down and tried to re-collect my thoughts and the information I had while she was sitting there.

Here is what had happened. A lady came and sat infornt of me. I couldn't stop looking at her. I shouldn't, b/c she is really beautiful. Then she order I believ tea and a cake. Right when she finished the meal a big/medium hight, caucasian guy came and sat next to her. They started talking. I wanted to her what they were talking and I heard him saying with a suprised voice "Doctor?!". them she was telling him that she is serving somewhere in her profession and then the voice went out. I gussed that she is going back home after period of service in another country. I gussed that she is a medical doctor.

Then other two old ladies came and sat next to her on the same table. She is very communicative and they started to talk eachother. I couldn't hear it. After sometime, she called the waiter and asked him for a bill.

Right when I saw that, I paid my bill and left to the "i" desk.

She is a white, medium hight, black hair, with classical beauty and in here mid twenties. She might be a little older. I know if she see this articl, she will know who I am, at least she will remeber the situation. I belive she is from either Greece or Holland. Please spread this info and lets see where the power of love/attraction will take us. I am a male, from Africa, and my name is A.W. my e-mail is Moment of truth...

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