Cultural differences

So clearly the title of this post could be the title of every post, because the cultural differences here are apparent each and every day. Unfortunately, it would be a bit tourist-y and offensive of me to take pictures of some of them in public, but I am trying to be sneaky about it.

Anyway, today after work we decided to go to Mall of the Emirates, which has now become a regular stomping ground as it literally has EVERYTHING in it, including an all-in-one store the size of 2 Wal-Marts, clothing stores, banks, food courts, movie theatres, ski slopes...you get the idea. Anyway, we went at around 6 pm...around 7 pm, the call to prayer began to sound:

Prayer call in the mall (just click play on the page that pops up)

You can hear me and my friends talking in the background, but what was so interesting to me was, all of the people sitting around us, from all cultures, most if not all of them NOT Muslim, did not bat an eye. It was like a little interlude, and then when it was finished, it was as if it never happened.

The prayer call happens 5 times a day, as Muslims are supposed to pray at dawn, mid-morning, mid-afternoon, evening, and then later at night. There are two mosques in this mall, one for women and one for men, and I have witnessed people spilling out into the corridors of the mall when the mosques were full. They actually section off certain passages when it gets too crowded, because they have to take off your shoes and they lay out these large prayer rugs for everyone. All part of the clash of western-style malls with traditional habits.

That's all my relevant news for now--besides the fact that the internet probably won't be installed in my building for another 3 weeks. Amazing. Although, everything is under construction all over the place, constantly, as the pictures below show. These are the cranes (it's like a halo effect!) at the Trump International Hotel and Apartments site on the Palm Jumeirah, which is one of the man-made palms off the coast of Dubai. It has been given the moniker "8th wonder of the world" over here--a bit optimistic, don't you think?

Worth the wait, Part II?

Major shame on me for not writing. Major. I don’t have internet in my apartment—make that my whole building. It’s so “new” that the wires haven’t been fitted yet. Every time I call or ask my doorman downstairs when it will be ready, I get different answers: next week, mid-May, early June…you get the idea. So, I’m just going to have to keep my fingers crossed that it gets done before I go crazy. It’s amazing, you don’t realize how much you constantly use the internet until you don’t have it at your fingertips (literally).

Nonetheless, things have been going well. I am on the brink of getting my lease car instead of driving around in this little Mitsubishi Lancer (I swear every time I make a turn I feel like I’m going to flip the car over). The reason why I don’t have it already is because another GE employee ran a red light. Now the traffic/police department in Sharjah (the emirate just north of Dubai) says the fine needs to be paid for running the red light and the guy’s car will be impounded for 3 days. So, he needs to get it to the Sharjah police—except, oh wait, he went traveling. He won’t be back until Monday. So now, not a single new GE employee in Dubai can get their car because the Road & Transportation Authority won’t grant any more company car registrations until the fine is paid. Seriously? Seriously. Awesome.

Now, all I have to do besides that is get my alcohol license—aka, a piece of paper that says since I am not Muslim, I can buy a certain amount of alcohol, based on my monthly income—totally serious. You need permission to do almost everything here.

In other news, my birthday in Dubai was really fun. First, to an outdoor bar, since the weather is still quite nice here in the evenings—around 75 degrees on the beach—and then to a dance club later on. Too bad none of the huge champagne bottles being carried around were for me (pictures below). Nonetheless, I had a great time.

I don’t have a great time when I go grocery shopping, however. Food here is expensive—and that is an understatement. Here goes my Mastercard commercial reenactment:

1 box of Kashi cereal: $10

1 jar of honey: $8

1 vanilla yogurt: $5

Knowing you’re eating better than the workers slaving away on all the Dubai skyscrapers: priceless.

Speaking of which, I have been trying to get some photos of the workers and their work conditions—more on that soon. Apparently, the only thing they are fed is ground-up maize, in like a kind of mushy oatmeal, while they sleep in these barracks-type warehouses. Here is a video from Youtube about their mistreatment—I will try to get some firsthand photos as well. There is currently a mall being built just on the next block down from my apartment, and I swear, they finished an entire wall of it in like a week--see below--that wall was done--in a week!

Worth the wait

So I went over to my apartment today to meet the landlord, who again, is one of the nicest women. She brought me homemade chicken soup when she heard my voice was hoarse! She also has been so accommodating, bringing over everything that I asked for (sheets, towels, etc.) so that I don't have to spend the money on them, and even said she would get me things like a clothes drying rack and place mats, which are not necessary.

Anyway, we had a good long chat. She is originally from Iraq, but her father was a diplomat, so she lived and grew up all over Europe, and she has been in Dubai for 25 years (which in Dubai time is the equivalent of a century.) This is her first time buying and then renting an apartment--she and her friend are the only 2 women who bought apartments in this building and then furnished them before renting. Nice furnished apartments really are rare here, which is why I was so, so, so stressed out about finding a decent one a couple of weeks ago.

Below are pictures of the view from my little balcony off of my room--I will take pictures of the actual apartment this coming week, once I move in a bit more. I am excited that I'll be moved in for my birthday, so I can break it in a bit and make it feel like home. I'll be honest, if Dubai wasn't so far away, I could stay in this apartment for a long time. I really love it.

View to the left, overlooking the man-made marina and the Arabian Gulf:



Views to the right, looking out towards the main road and the largely undeveloped land more inland:

Great Success!

A little inspiration from Borat for the post title, as I have the key for my apartment in hand and I got my Dubai driver license--all in the same day!!

Turns out, my landlord is really nice (an older woman named Hind who is a first time owner/renter) but she was basically convinced by this psychotic "real estate agent", who can barely speak or understand anything beyond basic English from Azerbaijan (basically former U.S.S.R. in the middle of the tundra--how did he end up here, right?), to let him market the property. Hind said she pitied him, as he sounded and looked so desperate for the 5% commission, and figured it would be more or less harmless--not exactly.

That would have been fine, except for the obvious language barrier, in addition to the fact that he works for one of the many real estate "agencies" that have popped up in Dubai to help sell the innumerable number of properties that are available. Problem is, these agencies are barely legit. And most of the "agents", like the winner that I was dealing with, have never been trained in real estate practice or law and have never closed a sale.

So, to make a long story short, I'm glad I didn't have a nervous breakdown and I'm ecstatic that I got the keys. The relocation consultant I had been working with, who had been provided by my company, turned out to be my guardian angel, and made sure that everything went well and that neither the landlord nor I was getting screwed, since the superstar from the former U.S.S.R. literally made me want to punch a brick wall--repeatedly.

I will have pictures of the new spot tomorrow, but really had to post a picture of a poster that was on display at the government office where I got my driver license issued. It was a very small office on the upper floor of a "hypermarket", aka a Walmart-esque place that has a large grocery story in addition to lots of other little stores that offer whatever you need: eyeglasses, clothes, electronics, etc.

I gave these guys copies all my official documents (visas and passports and certifications, oh my) and got handed my license. For the record, the USA is one of only a few countries where you can simply show your license from your home country and immediately get a Dubai license--they have just put into effect new laws that make it VERY, VERY difficult for most foreign nationalities to get a license here. Basically, they are combating huge amounts of traffic, and huge amounts of murderous driving. Literally. There is an accident in Dubai every 5 seconds or something. They have the highest auto-accident death rate per capita in the entire world--I will be honest, I see about 50 "almost" accidents a day, so the number of actual accidents must be astronomical.


SO, in addition to revising the laws so that obtaining a license is more difficult, they actively posted some propaganda to aid in their campaign for safer driving:


Yes, according to Islamic law, or Sharia, speeding is a sin. Now, I know you're all thinking that I better be careful, because I can be a bit of a speedy gonzalez, but you should SEE the cars racing down the main highway here at over 100 mph, easily:


Although, with sweet-ass cars like this one literally everywhere, I can't really blame them. I will try to get more pictures of all the hot cars I see everyday--although, a curious phenomenon here is that license plates are sometimes much more coveted than the car itself. I don't know if any of you heard about this, but recently , a custom license plate was auctioned off in Abu Dhabi for around $14 million.

It's all about the number here--you pay more if you want a "better" license plate number (which means as close to the number 1 as possible), phone number (easy to remember, or as many of the same number as possible, i.e. 555-5555), P.O. box number (since Dubai does not have a mail delivery system, you can only receive mail at a P.O. box and go to pick it up--no mailboxes, no home delivery, nothing), etc.

It really is weird that they pay so much money for something that has absolutely no material value or serious purpose in their lives. And, apparently, the guys who have the money to spend $14 million on the license plate get the car, be it a Rolls Royce Phantom, Bentley, or Ferrari, FOR FREE, because just having the license plate attached to the car is enough of a marketing campaign to justify gifting the car away.

And that's enough "things that make you go hmmmm/WTF?" from Dubai for today.

What? Ja Rule is here?

I really need to make an effort to write more than once a week, but seeing as most of my week is spent working, there isn't always a lot to say. Nonetheless, lots of little lessons were learned this week, as I got closer to my goal of moving into an apartment, getting a car, a bank account, etc.

The real estate game in Dubai is infamous--it is one of the first things associated with the city: big buildings under construction every day finished in record time, whether commercial or residential. This plethora of new projects, combined with the wealth of the region, translates into a seller's market in a very one-sided way.

Some interesting (read: ridiculous, ludicrous, heinous, you get the idea) stipulations:

1. Rent is paid up front for an entire year, in one big, fat check. So, for instance, a one bedroom furnished apartment in either the Dubai Marina or other area near my office (read: bearable commute time) can run around 130,000 dirhams a year and up. That's about $40,000 dollars, or about $3,500 dollars a month. Yea. Pricey.

2. There are no gentlemen's agreements. You are not guaranteed an apartment, even if you say you will take it, until you put that check in their hand (along with a $3,600 security deposit) and you get the keys in return. The market is so volatile, apartments can change hands within hours--so tough luck if you don't get what you want!

3. You most likely will never meet the landlord. Or speak to them. Or even learn their name. Many of these properties have been bought and sold several times before they are even put up for rent, so it's all very fuzzy.

4. It is sometimes recommended that you ignore various ads in the paper or online for apartments, as "fake" apartments and agreements abound. If something sounds too good to be true, there's probably a 99% chance that it is. So basically, if you don't have a real estate agent or some other intermediary, you're screwed.

In summary, the fact that you have to shell out a huge sum of money up front, usually at a huge premium, and there's no guarantee that the place will be yours until you actually get the keys is a little...nerve-racking, shall we say?

Combine that with the fact that the realtors that my company set me up with were not exactly helpful and--poof-- you come to the realization I had 3 days ago that I need to do most of this searching and negotiating on my own. Too bad I've been here almost 3 weeks--a little late on the uptake, I admit.

Setting the whole living situation aside for a second, I still do not have a Dubai driver license, a car, or a local bank account (since the ATM card I got from HSBC was eaten by the ATM when I tried to confirm my pin #, and apparently the only way to get it back is to go to the original branch in the UAE, about 25 minutes down the highway. Psych!--their loss because there's no way I'm doing that.)

You can't really get any of the things mentioned above without your residency visa, so that was a huge glitch in any attempts to get "settled" here. The residency visa can only be processed once you have your "medical test" once you enter the country, which consists of a TB x-ray screen (standard, I had to get one for Brussels, too) and a blood test. What do they test for? Oh, you know, infectious diseases, HIV, pregnancy (if you're a single woman, being pregnant out of wedlock here is illegal--no, I'm not joking). If you are positive for any of the above, you get thrown in jail and deported ASAP. No messing around--they do not want diseased persons residing here. Too bad they can't test everyone who crosses their borders, so the attempt to keep the UAE HIV-free is pretty much futile. Good effort though.

Last week was particularly stressful, since my company apparently didn't realize they had to pay a year's worth of rent up front even though I won't be staying for an entire year. Going back and forth with the people that need to sign off on your financials when they are 10,000 miles and 8 time zones away is always enjoyable--and efficient. Just one of the drawbacks of working for a big company with various layers and standard procedures.

On to extracurriculars of the week. I had some good Indian food in the middle of the week that was not too pricey. Last night was the main event, as I dragged myself out because I had been talking about trying these 2 places all week with my coworkers, and didn't want to back out--I have a tendency to convince myself why I can't go out--it's too late, I'm too tired, I have to get up early, it's too much effort, etc.

We went to one place that's an outside bar, called Sho-Cho's, before the weather gets too hot (it was seriously like 70 degrees at 11 pm last night) and then went to this club, called Boudoir. Both were insanely fun. It was '80s night at Sho-Cho's, and the music they were playing cracked me up. Everyone knew the words to all the American music better than I did--for shame. Absinthe shots set on fire were had, insane outfits unbuttoned halfway with insane amounts of chest hair were seen, and last but not a least, a surprise guest was revealed towards the end of the evening.

We went to Boudoir around 1:45 am. You have to go to a club in boy-girl pairs, or they don't let you in. There are more men than women in Dubai to begin with, so you don't have a shot in hell of getting in unless you're accompanying a female. Anyway, we get in, it's great, we're dancing to hip-hop, rap, old school, R&B, etc. There are bouncers carrying ENORMOUS bottles of Grey Goose in these huge plastic diamond-shaped containers to the various tables bordering the dance floor--totally over-the-top and hilarious.

Then all of a sudden, I hear a voice on the microphone that is vaguely familiar. Hoarse, grating, baritone. Definitely rapper-esque. And then, an announcement: Ja Rule is in the building. Nas and Kelis are also in the building. Another, "are you serious?" Dubai moment. Lo and behold, the washed-up rapper was there along with his entire entourage and I would say about 9 various "girls of the evening" if you catch my drift. It was beyond funny. The crowd was pushing to get pictures of him throwing 'bows on top of his table. I was hysterical. He hasn't had a song, let alone a hit, in years. A has-been. Lame. Whack Attack. Nonetheless, in Dubai celebrating his birthday according to "Gutter" (yea, like where rats live), one of the members of his entourage we met outside after the club closed at 3 am.

All in a week's time. Wow. I'm glad I dragged myself out for that. Even though it's like 20 minutes away by taxi. Worth it to see Ja Rule's goofy snaggle-tooth smile and have a really good night out with new friends. Pictures below.

Making fun of all the popped collars and unbuttoned shirts:

Absinthe? check. On fire? check. Sherif's hand gets singed? check.

Ja Rule? Prostitutes? Classic "see how good by abs look" pose? Large, overweight entourage?

"Escalade" spelled in diamonds on the side of the Escalade? Might have been a sheikh's car?