Alone at Night with Nothing but your Thoughts...Time can Draw Out like a Blade

It’s 2 AM…I think. I don’t know. I turned off my phone so that I wouldn’t lose battery. I see the candle quickly melting, how many hours are left on this thing? Please, just let me just fall asleep already. Seriously, what the hell was I thinking. I’ve spent nights in the desert before, in India and Africa with my cousins..terrified. Something about being out in the open, with no sense of where you are and no sort of escape is rather unsettling. So why did I think staying in the deserts of Jordan, alone at night would be any different?! Yet here I was, in Wadi Rum, with only 3 other folks in this desert camp…petrified. What’s worse, they turned off the electricity come 11pm, so all I had was this dingy little candle…and my thoughts. It’s pretty windy outside and the sound of the wind hitting the tent makes it sound like someone is trying to open the door. This is going to be a long night. I somehow managed to fall in and out of sleep and woke up at around 8am. At least the sun had finally come out. I survived the night. NEVER AGAIN will I do this.

The Rose-Red City

I woke up at 6:30 am today, yet I am super giddy and energetic. Why? You ask…Today I went to see the Rose-Red city engraved in rock, a true wonder and a sight for sore eyes. Here is my journey into this marvelous ancient city:

First you walk through the main visitor’s gate through a pebbled and sandy path (about 1 kilometer) with stone tombs and monuments carved with animal bones, hammers and steel into the sandstone. The Nabataean’s carved the upper floors first as sandstone is soft and would have fallen into their eyes. Then comes the entrance to As Siq, which literally means “crack in the rock”. It is a naturally formed (probably by an earthquake) deep gorge with canyon walls of up to 80 meters and 3,620 ft in length. As it winds down to the main gate of Petra you see a medley of colors in the rocks, which washed by flash floods to create smooth rocks with interesting designs. The Red Sea also flooded here, thus causing the rose color in the rocks and sand. As you walk though As Siq, admiring the funky geological formations, you also notice the intricate water channels built by the Nabataeans, which allowed them to settle in one place. My tour guide would pause every once in a while to ask me what animal I see in the rock formations, and for some strange reason..all I saw were crocodiles; I think he got annoyed and stopped asking me. It’s amazing to thing the same limestone walk ways that were built in the 1st century BC are still somewhat intact today.

As spellbound as I was in this walk way, as I turned the next corner, I was faced with Al-Khazneh (the Treasury) through the sliver crack at the end of As Siq. This is the main structure in Petra, and remarkably still fairly undamaged. It is called the Treasury since there is large pot engraved in stone which was thought to be filled with treasures – based on the folks trying to shoot it down, it can be confirmed that there was nothing inside. I stand in front of Al-Khazneh, unable to process the sheer grandeur of this façade. The combination of natural geography and carvings is unbelievable. I can’t even describe what I see or feel; which means go see it for yourself!! Petra is officially the most incredible place I have seen in my life. But alas, Petra is not just the Treasury that it is it most known for, it is an entire city built in the sandstone, spanning across several kilometers and varying heights. I walk though this magical city, (which seems all too unreal) hidden in the gorges of southern Jordan, and decide to go to the highest and furthest point which is the Monastery (similar architecture to the Treasury). It takes about a good hour to get to this site, 800 steps from the base and the route involves climb narrow, smooth, sand covered steps that wind around the mountains. Again just like the Treasury, when you think you have seen everything you can on this hike, you take a sharp right turn and there it is, the Monastery..when you least expect it.

There is another point atop a mountain to get an amazing panoramic view of the Monastery and the surrounding mountains and canyons. At the view point, all I hear is the breeze. I sit there, admiring the scenery, at a loss for wonders, and just look upon this wondrous place with appreciation, realizing my own insignificance in comparison. How the in the world did they carve this place with several simple tools in such beautiful terrain? I guess some questions are meant to be left answered. I sit with Abid, a Bedouin guy in his shop at the peak of the mountain. He lives there, gets what he needs from the village, sells trinkets to tourists, smokes his pipe, plays his guitar, and makes tea. What a life, I wouldn’t mind spending a week on this mountain…meditating. By the way, all the Bedouins here look just like Jack Sparrow, with nice tanned skin, kohl in their eyes, and fancy head gear. As I walk down the 800 steps from the Monastery, I admire the astounding designs and colors in the rocks. One of the Bedouins reveals a short cut to get to the Royal Tombs, which I obviously decide to take since it is around 100 degrees and disgustingly humid. This shortcut led me to nowhere, taking random paths (no signs of course), crossing questionable bridges; I find myself back at the main road and proceed to the tombs. From here, another several kilometer hike back to the entrance.

9 hours later from the start of my day, I am done; I get to the car and just collapse, thinking about the wonder I saw today.

28 countries in my 28 years, and I can confidently say that Petra is the most magical and fascinating place I have seen in this lifetime. Today, I've lost myself in this fantasy land, seemingly real only in fairy tales.

Even Michael Phelps Can't Swim Here

Abdullah, my driver for the next few days picked me up from the hostel for our journey to the Dead Sea, Petra, and Wadi Rum. As we drive down the mountains to the Dead Sea (the lowest point on Earth), I feel my ears pop and appreciate the beautiful contours of the landscape. We went from mountains and deserts, to valleys along the sea. I’m not much of a beach person, but I found myself not wanting to leave the Dead Sea. As you walk into the water, there is no sand, but hard minerals that line the banks, followed by sand, mud, and rocks. When the water is about waist length, I try to float. After a couple of seconds, I hear a *pop* sound. That is the sound of my legs popping up out of the water, against my will of course. The Dead Sea is 8 times more salty than the ocean, thus coining its name. There is no life, and everything floats due to this excessive salinity. The salt water stung my lips (baked from the sun) and my eyes as I accidentally got a few drops in them. This is the only place in the world that you can recline and read a book or newspaper as you float. There is an oily layer over my skin from the salt and minerals.

After a while of trying to swim and just floating around, I get out to plaster myself in the mud from the sea, which is known to have healing powers and is also good for the skin. As I bake in the sun and wait for the mud to dry, I start thinking of crazy ideas of what kind of super hero I could be..emerging from the sands of the Middle East, covered in oil, ready to save the world. But, I more or less look like Swamp Thing. After another few hours, I force myself to get out of the water as it is now stinging my skin from the abundance of salt and minerals. One thing to note, the Dead Sea is shrinking quickly..so get there before its gone, I promise it’s an experience of a lifetime.

As we drive along the Dead Sea Highway to Petra, I intently stare at Israel (my next stop) across the sea and the striking mountains. There is a thick crust of white salt lining the mountains along the water, the color combination is stunning, sea green and blue, foamy white salt, and terra cotta mountains. My thoughts are lost in the scenery, towns, and sea…and suddenly..3 hours later, we are in Petra. As I walk around the city after iftar, I become aware of that familiar discomfort of walking around alone, especially at night. Again, the shop keepers keep hassling me to buy things and men make inappropriate comments. My blood is BOILING. If I were not a woman, this would not be a problem. I keep telling myself to look past it, to be understanding..tourism is down over 30%, the main tourists from neighboring countries such as Syria and Egypt are not coming since hell has broken loose in their homelands…these people have no money. Here it is, the overarching effect of the Arab Spring on all surrounding countries. I then think of a solution; headphones whenever I walk around. Hear no evil; sometimes ignorance is bliss.

Circles in Amman

The first thing that comes to mind when I think of Jordan: dates. A co-worker at JP Morgan went to Jordan every year and brought back savory dates – chocolate covered, cinnamon laced, almond filled. Sorry to digress, but dates in the Middle East are just heavenly. After sampling many types of these delicacies, the top two are Kimia (Iranian dates) and Saudi madjoul dates. These both are the softer versions and slowly melt in your mouth as your eat them…yum.

Walking around old Amman near my hotel, I felt very self conscious. The people were staring as there weren’t many women walking around and especially alone. And when they spoke to me in Arabic, I pretended to understand, just like in Dubai and Lebanon. I notice the poverty in Jordan, which is a bitter contrast to the extravagance of Dubai. This country was not as lucky as its oil rich neighbors and has limited natural resources. But the uprisings here have not been as intense as other countries in the region as King Abdullah is making efforts for reform, but we will see how long that lasts or how it pans out. I walked to the Roman amphitheater and to the Sheikh Hassan mosque but a bad time, since it was close to iftar; at 7, I see people running around with large trays of food in preparation to break fast. At around 7:30, people are all together inside of their shops sharing this traditional meal. It is nice to see this togetherness during the holy month of Ramadan. Some of them even invite me to join them as they think I am fasting as well.

I had made plans to meet my friend Hana (another summer intern from Dubai) as she is from Jordan. Hana and her friend show me around old Amman, and the circles of the city. It is built on 7 mountains with 8 circles, which kind of reminds me of Amsterdam and the circles of canals (though those are more reminiscent of the concentric circles of hell from Dante’s Inferno). As we drive up and down the narrow streets of the circles, I see how alive the city is at night, similar to any other cities in the region after iftar. They take me to this charming outdoor restaurant on top of the 3rd circle which affords a view of the entire city, the mountains and the citadel. As I mention my future travel plans, I learn that my friend is actually Palestinian but her family had moved to Jordan in the 30’s. She was saying how lucky I was to be able to visit Israel and Palestine, something which would be nearly impossible for her. And apparently even if you are Jordanian, it is difficult to visit Israel. Which came as a surprise to me since Israel has peace treaties with only 2 Arab nations (Jordan & Egypt), but folks were not allowed to move into and out of these countries freely. I suppose these countries are just a conduit for tourists from other nations to visit Israel. That’s the one convenient aspect of living and traveling in the Middle East, I am able to get a more in depth understanding of each of these countries and how they differ. Just because shit is blowing up in Syria (which shares a border with Jordan), does not mean it is unsafe to come to Jordan. So we bid each other farewell at the end of the night, wondering when we will meet again.

Last Days in Dubai

Ok, I won’t even deny it, I went to the bathroom to drink water. It is the holy month of Ramadan and it is illegal in Dubai to eat or drink in public during the day. I repeat, it is illegal and a jail-able (is this even a word?) offense. I was running errands all the day in anticipation of leaving Dubai and I was parched. Out in public, I could not drink water in front of anyone, so I ran to the restroom in the mall and took a swig out of my water bottle. An hour later I am walking around and here the familiar prayer sound and hurriedly look at my watch, realizing it is 7pm. It is time for iftar, I peer down from the 3rd floor and suddenly I see people eating. Thank God! Things you would never think twice about in life, here I am..thinking about them.

On my last day of work I sat at my desk, again staring at the marina and the wonder of Palm Jumeriah for insight into my current state of mind. If I didn’t have the best of experiences this summer then why am I somewhat sad about leaving? Perhaps it is sadness for my experiences not matching my expectations by a long shot. And reconciling these differences has been a challenge of sorts. But Dubai isn’t all bad…two good points being minimal crime and diversity of people here (as I had mentioned before). But anyway I don’t think I can think about this place with a clear head until I am back home.

I finally get up from the iftar tent filled with hundreds of MBA alumni, bid farewell to friends from my summer internship and get ready for the next leg of my journey.

So I leave Dubai with more than the future prospects of getting lung cancer; I leave with a sincere appreciation for civil liberties and freedom that comes with living in the USA, insights into the culture and how to do business in this region.

Some interesting learnings worth mentioning:
- KSA does not mean “Kellogg Student Association” to the rest of the world…(Kingdom of Saudi Arabia)
- Remove any mention of Israel from any presentation

Goodbye Dubai..this summer has been, let’s say “out of the ordinary”. Maybe I’ll see you again one day. Inshallah.

Kish Island Dilemma

My friend Ayan (yes I am calling you out) put the crazy idea in my head to visit Kish Island, aka Iran while here in Dubai. Kish is a tiny island off the coast of Iran that is a free zone, which essentially means that foreigners (including US Citizens) can enter without a visa. The standard response, when I excitedly divulged plans to people was, “ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?!?”. I even consulted my dad, who is an immigration lawyer on if this was a good idea. He said I could go, but I should be very careful, not go alone, and leave as soon as possible. So initially I conducted some basic research, but everything I found out seemed shadier by the moment. Below is a summary.

1.Kish Air website – There once used to be a boat from Dubai to the island, but it no longer runs. You can’t buy airline tickets from the website. You need to call travel agents and buy tickets 10 days before you want to fly; that is when the tickets become available. However, the travel agents have no other information regarding the island other than that folks go there for visa runs. Shady.
2.Opinions – I ask my friends in Dubai and co-workers (who are all very well traveled). Nobody has even thought of going there or has known anyone who has gone. Several co-workers had gone to Tehran a few years back, but they were French. Actually, one friend mentioned that his Filipino friend had gone for a visa run, but alas she is not a US Citizen. Shadier.
3.Kish Island Tourism – I call Iran from Dubai. Yes , I call Iran, this is exciting. No answer from the Kish Tourism board, or any hotels located on the island. Nobody picks up the phone. I called and emailed the US consulate in Dubai, and I get a generic response 3 weeks later to refer to the website. Useless. And Shady as hell.
4.The News – The international news is splattered with headlines about the 2 American hikers who have been imprisoned in Iran for 2 years for mistakenly hiking across the Iraq/Iran border and could be sentenced for another 8 years. Shadiest.

Conclusion – There is a fine line between thrill seeking adventure and reckless stupidity. This trip may undoubtedly cross that line. Kish Island and Iran will be saved for some other lifetime. The thought of being subject to an Iranian prison is daunting, especially after reading Maziar Bahari’s tale of 118 days in the notorious Evin prison, and he’s Iranian.

Unreal Mountains in Oman

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People Watching in Dubai

Dubai is probably one of the most interesting places in the world to people watch. Of course there is a plethora of expats dressed in their very best at the entrance at any of the hottest clubs (which I have frequented many a time). While trying to figure out who is a prostitute at a club is engaging, people watching Arabs and Emirati’s to be even more intriguing. Interactions with Emiratis (the locals of the UAE with make up around 5% of the population) are quite limited, unless you happen to work with them or have a random chance meeting with them.

And the women, whenever you see a flash of their shoes or clothing underneath the burqa, it is always something fascinating. The eye makeup they wear is captivating, even I get lost in their gaze. The Lebanese woman at MAC in Beirut even gave me some tips on how to create the intense “Arab eyes” look. In the malls, I have seen the tightest burqa’s, maybe they were spandex..making me wonder what the point of wearing it was in the first place.

Castello’s, known to be the best hookah lounge in Dubai is my favorite place to people watch. I watch the Emirati men and women smoke sheesha and play on their gadgets. Here I noticed the “man-scaping” that is a distinct feature of the Arab men. Never have I seen such fine layering of beards, mustaches, and gotis. They give the 5 o’clock shadow a whole new meaning.

As we sit at Castello’s, I feel a nice buzz and a general numbness from the sheesha and in a trance from the sounds of the live Arab musician. Perhaps numbing my feelings on being in this country, and the reality of my experiences here relative to my expectations. Somehow the conversation takes an unpromising turn to recent nightmares of getting arrested in Dubai for seemingly trivial actions, camel racing and stoning (look it up should you be curious).

Sigh of Relief in India

The Real Deal

“It’s amazing how deep and superficial you can be at the same time. One minute you are burning your face with flaming drinks, and the next you are quoting Rousseau."

…says a friend in Dubai. This couldn’t be more true. My life as it is now feels like a mélange of my trio of all time favorite books (Camus’ La Chute & L’Etranger, and Sartre’s Le Nausee). I am Clamence, a Parisian lawyer who evaluates his own existence and consciousness only to realize that every triumph in his life was a failure. I am Meursault who is disconnected and is severely affected by the sun and the sea. And I am Roquentin who feverishly writes and writes and feels a constant discomfort called “nausea” about everything in life.

Dubai is a city that seems like any other western cosmopolitan city. On the surface you have beaches, malls, partying, and fun activities for expats to easily to meld into. But underneath this façade is an oppressive regime that is inherent in many of these Arab nations. There is a little detail called “freedom” that you don’t truly value until you live outside of the United States. Unknowingly, I was thrown into the caste system of the UAE, going from an inconsequential MBA student, to “maam”, what the worker class called us expats. There are 3 classes of people here, Emiratis (only ones who are citizens of the country), Expats, and the Workers. But the divide between each class is exponential and opening your eyes to how the workers are treated here is quite unsettling. I see them every day. On my way to work, on the way back, at the grocery store next door and sometimes from my cushy 26th floor office. Walking home at 9pm in the suffocating heat of Dubai, rows and rows of them are sitting there waiting for the buses to take them to the labor camps. Our eyes meet, and I see an inherent sadness in their eyes, I cannot bear to look anymore. I see them toil and sweat in 100+ degree heat and 85% humidity all for measly wages and accommodations. And to watch something to the effect of slavery in front of your eyes, and do nothing about it? How do you just look the other way? I certainly cannot.

Not to mention the complete insanity that is work. Loads and loads of work keeps piling up, and hours and hours in the office. What is day, what is night? I don’t know anymore. I spent 27 hours straight at the office…working throughout the night, seeing the sunrise from the office. So not ideal. So consumed in work I feel lost. I go home, sleep for 4 hours and frantically wake up to make the most of the weekend. I am exhausted, but no! I must spend money and do something…anything. 500 dirhams for bottle service? Sure why not. I make money, but I don’t have time to spend it. You feel like you just need to spend money on anything, as another consultant says. I can’ think straight, who am I, what have I become. I feel this place eating away at my soul, caring about things I don’t really care about. Partying, pretenses, indulging in materialistic bliss like nothing before. As another friend said, here we are spending money on things he only imagined we would be doing 10 years down the line..fancy boat cruises, hundreds of dollars on brunches. I have 4 different currencies in my wallet and it all feels like monopoly money.

How can this place ever be sustainable? The culture is fake, the people are transient, and there is ZERO incentive to make a life here. But I guess some people get sucked into the black hole of indulgence here and forget the realities of life. You will never be a citizen or remotely equal to the Emiratis here. The only motivation is to come here, make some tax free money and leave.

As the gold coating around everything in Dubai starts to fade away, I am sick. I feel nauseous. I think I will throw up now.

Beirut! Beirut! Beirut is on Fire!

tbd

Officially Savoring Expat Life in Dubai

I knew there was a reason I kept the pop out map of Dubai from my travels last summer, and not just for nostalgic purposes. If you refer back to blog post #8 titled “Update”, when I said I loved Dubai, and wanted to live there one day..well HERE I AM. Here I am for the summer doing an internship at a management consulting firm and still quite shocked at how I ended up here.

You are probably wondering what’s so great about Dubai? First and foremost it is the cultural diversity of the people who live here. I have met interesting folks from all around the world, who all share a sense of adventure and inclination to party hard. When I go to lunch with my co-workers, there is never 1 person from the same country. Not to mention the blend of languages heard, my heart flutters every time I hear French spoken in the office. Conversations always somehow converge to travels and adventures in various countries or to the nuances of certain cultures. Being that the office is nearly 25% Lebanese, some of the consultants joke that they always feel that Lebanese folks are trying to rip them off and coined the term “Sleazy Lebanesey”. Other than that, the second reason is the SUN. My mood is directly linked to the sunlight and even if I am stuck it an office and working for hours, as long as I see the sun I’ll be happy. The heat is suffocating, but I don’t mind. You don’t end up lounging around outside too much other than getting in and out of taxis.

Here’s a commentary on the culture and lifestyle that is Dubai. Overall it is a mall culture where anything and everything you want is inside a mall. This is mainly due to lack of the strip mall concept since the heat is just unbearable for even a few minutes. They even have “mall jogger” groups in Dubai Mall, which gives you a sense of how enormous the malls are and that people would actually run around it for exercise. The nightlife here is rather pretentious and wild. It is dress to impress and pretty difficult for guys to get into clubs without buying bottles or coming with a cohort of females. Lots of the clubs have mesmerizing decors and themes. Boudoir is a club located on the second floor of the outdoor area of a hotel and has a French Palace theme. With a cushion like ceiling, it literally feels like you are in a French jewelry box. Cavalli, opened by designed Roberto Cavalli is probably the sickest club in Dubai..next to People in Wafi. One word to describe this place..”chandeliers”. I have never seen so many large chandeliers in one place and the minimum for the elevated lounge table area, a mere 15,000 AED (approx $4,000).

So far so good in the summer of “anything goes”…

The amazing children of Sidi Moumem

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Morocco: I’ll have another mint tea please

Déjà vu, or am I in Turkey Again?! Turkish Delights and Tea

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Swimming in the crystal blue waters of Cyprus..or not

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The Ottoman Empire Strikes Back

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