With my list of needed items typed into my phone, I got on the bus to the mall. A conversation with the driver painted an interesting picture of how free time is spent in Dubai. I told him I was surprised the bus went to the mall three times a day and that my school in America only does that one day a semester and on that day, the bus only goes one time. He said he drives the route three times a day, five days a week, all semester. Shopping, it seems, is big here.
This suspicion was confirmed when we approached the mall. Signage stretches for miles, pinpointing the malls location so that everyone who is even remotely interested in shopping is sure to find it. After some impressive maneuvering, the driver pulled to the curb and said, "My friend, I will see you back here at 5 o'clock" I concurred and stepped off the bus. It was then I realized It was 1:00. I had 4 hours at the mall.
For the men reading this, 4 hours at the mall has the fun-quotient of 8 hours of unanesthetized surgery, 0.5 seconds of watching SportsCenter, 6 hours at the nail-salon or 12 hours of talking about feelings. In short, the mall is man's least-preferred way to spend time. However, the Mall of the Emirates is different. No, it doesn't have a beer-factory and no, semi-nude girls don't appear at your side when you walk through the doors. There isn't a free movie theater showing Eastwood flicks 24/7 and there aren't any red meat dispensers lining the walls. What this mall does offer though, is indoor skiing and huge foodcourts (note the plural). While I only took advantage of the latter, I offset this by buying cheap stuff. Guys typically don't like to buy things at all but there are times when its absolutely necessary to do so. Drying off with a dirty t-shirt sucks so I bought towels. Sleeping on a questionably stained mattress also sucks so I bought sheets and a pillow. Laptop speakers suck so I bought speakers.
Other things that are bad that I fixed at the mall
- Not having a phone
- Not having enough electrical outlets
- Not having a cable for the internet
- Being hungry
Most of these things, I fixed by going to Carrefour, or the Middle East's answer to Walmart. Places like this are called hypermarkets because hypermarket sounds cooler than supermarket. I like this. It avoids the pretension of American supermarkets that have downgraded to the simple term of "market". If you only sell one item, you are a market. If you sell lots of things, that's super. You are a supermarket. If you sell so many things, your customer's children behave like wildmen (ie: hyper), you are a hypermarket.
Realizing that Carrefour is the size of a Walmart and is situated inside of a mall gives a sense of how big the Mall of the Emirates is. With all that space, ironies abound. The 'Smoker's Centre' is next to the 'Health Centre'. There is a Cold Stone Creamery upstairs and a knock-off, Marble Slab Creamery downstairs. Marc Jacobs and Burberry have children's stores. No issue with Fridays as the Islamic day of rest, here. The mall is open seven days a week. Maybe this is because there are men's and women's mosques upstairs. After all, how could anyone get to them if the mall was closed? If the doors must be open for that, might as well open the rest of the mall.
The crown jewel of the Mall of the Emirates, and the part most people will recognize, is the indoor ski-slope. From the outside, the slope looks like a massive ramp, ready to launch a very large something into low-earth orbit. Inside, it looks like... well, a ski-slope. There is a place to purchase lift tickets, rent skis, buy (not rent) ski clothes, and to put everything on. Once inside, there is a snow park for kids and families and a learn-to-ski area. Classes are available. Where the whole thing looked immense from the outside, from inside it is tiny. It takes about 60 seconds to get from top to bottom. I'll stick to White Pass, thanks.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Getting Here
After approximately 40 hours of travel, I arrived in Dubai. The airport here is the largest building in the world in terms of floor space and I feel like I walked its entire length on my way to baggage claim. The stress of being awake and travelling for nearly two days didn't ease on my way through customs. At that point, I was resigned to whatever could possibly happen. It wasn't that I'd encountered any significant obstacles thus far, I was simply exhausted from jet lag. To my delight, the customs agent glanced at my passport, pounded it with a stamp and sent me on my way to baggage claim.
There, I silently prayed for my bag to come. If it did, I could get a cab, go to campus and be finished travelling. It didn't come... and didn't come... and didn't come. Maybe it was because of my skewed sense of time having traveled through twelve time zones but my wait seemed to last an eternity. I began to think how long I would have to wait in the line of people who'd also lost their bags. I looked around for where that line was. Yep. There, across the hall, stood dozens of people. They looked tired, like me. I turned back to the carousel and trained my eyes on the black curtains under which bag after bag issued forth, each one not mine. I knelt down, legs and joints on the verge of collapse.
A big green duffel bag crawled out from beneath the black flaps. No mistaking it was mine, I was the only one whose luggage lacked wheels. I made my way to the taxi line, hopped in one, introduced myself to the driver and we took off for campus. On the way, I tried to make small-talk. No such luck. My driver's English was horrible. I told him my Arabic was rough and told him where I was from. "Ana min Washington", I said. He looked at me in the mirror.
"Huh?"
I repeated the phrase, adding "wa antee?" to the end, as a prompt for him to reciprocate.
"Huh?"
With a different pronunciation, I tried again.
"Wa antee?"
He chuckled in a way people laugh when they don't understand what was just said but assume laughter is an appropriate response. I sat back in seat and looked out the window.
Sheikh Zayed Road is the main north-south route in Dubai. We drove this route on the way to campus. It runs from Abu Dhabi in the south to Ras al-Khaimah in the north creating a division between east and west Dubai on its way. The American University in Dubai is located towards the road's southern entrance into Dubai near Dubai's Internet and Media cities. As I have told the people back home that have asked what Dubai is like, I've told them about travelling along Sheikh Zayed Road. For those who have seen 'Inception', the skyscrapers here are like those in the movie, specifically the non-descript and endlessly stretching ones from the deepest level of DiCaprio's dreams. I'm not a professional when it comes to architecture, but there is a noticeable difference between the buildings here and the buildings in America, and it isn't as obvious as a certain style. Adobe is instantly distinguishable from Shinto style and has its differences that can be easily described. Here, its not so easy. The best I can do is compare color. Buildings in America are white, black, grey and only sometimes incorporate other tones. That's why the US Bank building in Portland isn't called the US Bank building but instead, 'the Pink Building'. Here, there are greens, blues, pinks, reds, and purples - and lots of gold. The style isn't bold European and it isn't pragmatic American. It attracts your attention but doesn't hold it for long, maybe because there are so any other interesting things to look at.
After this spectacle, I arrived on campus, 90 minutes before check-in becomes available. Security made some walkie-talkie calls and soon led me to my room. I met my RA who provided me with a check-in sheet. I began to unpack and within a half hour was finished. I didn't bring much and took inventory of what I needed. I'd need a trip to the mall.
There, I silently prayed for my bag to come. If it did, I could get a cab, go to campus and be finished travelling. It didn't come... and didn't come... and didn't come. Maybe it was because of my skewed sense of time having traveled through twelve time zones but my wait seemed to last an eternity. I began to think how long I would have to wait in the line of people who'd also lost their bags. I looked around for where that line was. Yep. There, across the hall, stood dozens of people. They looked tired, like me. I turned back to the carousel and trained my eyes on the black curtains under which bag after bag issued forth, each one not mine. I knelt down, legs and joints on the verge of collapse.
A big green duffel bag crawled out from beneath the black flaps. No mistaking it was mine, I was the only one whose luggage lacked wheels. I made my way to the taxi line, hopped in one, introduced myself to the driver and we took off for campus. On the way, I tried to make small-talk. No such luck. My driver's English was horrible. I told him my Arabic was rough and told him where I was from. "Ana min Washington", I said. He looked at me in the mirror.
"Huh?"
I repeated the phrase, adding "wa antee?" to the end, as a prompt for him to reciprocate.
"Huh?"
With a different pronunciation, I tried again.
"Wa antee?"
He chuckled in a way people laugh when they don't understand what was just said but assume laughter is an appropriate response. I sat back in seat and looked out the window.
Sheikh Zayed Road is the main north-south route in Dubai. We drove this route on the way to campus. It runs from Abu Dhabi in the south to Ras al-Khaimah in the north creating a division between east and west Dubai on its way. The American University in Dubai is located towards the road's southern entrance into Dubai near Dubai's Internet and Media cities. As I have told the people back home that have asked what Dubai is like, I've told them about travelling along Sheikh Zayed Road. For those who have seen 'Inception', the skyscrapers here are like those in the movie, specifically the non-descript and endlessly stretching ones from the deepest level of DiCaprio's dreams. I'm not a professional when it comes to architecture, but there is a noticeable difference between the buildings here and the buildings in America, and it isn't as obvious as a certain style. Adobe is instantly distinguishable from Shinto style and has its differences that can be easily described. Here, its not so easy. The best I can do is compare color. Buildings in America are white, black, grey and only sometimes incorporate other tones. That's why the US Bank building in Portland isn't called the US Bank building but instead, 'the Pink Building'. Here, there are greens, blues, pinks, reds, and purples - and lots of gold. The style isn't bold European and it isn't pragmatic American. It attracts your attention but doesn't hold it for long, maybe because there are so any other interesting things to look at.
After this spectacle, I arrived on campus, 90 minutes before check-in becomes available. Security made some walkie-talkie calls and soon led me to my room. I met my RA who provided me with a check-in sheet. I began to unpack and within a half hour was finished. I didn't bring much and took inventory of what I needed. I'd need a trip to the mall.
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