“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.
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