Superlative City: 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: