I was watching “60 Minutes”  and there was a piece on Abu Dhabi, The UAE….  I was a flight attendant and I wasn’t even sure where that was.  I know the globe, I thought.  But I’d forgotten about the gulf, Oman Quatar I wanted to go to Abu Dhabi.  It wasn’t what it is now but it was close.  The “pocket” for the United Arab Emirates. I would get there.  I never imagined getting there the way I did a year and a half ago.

But I never got to Abu Dhabi….I went to Dubai.

The Las Vegas of the middle east; Dubai.  The perfect place to disappear.  The country that is a maze of architectural wonder and design…crammed together on shifting sands with thousands of cranes that are now more still.  A year and a half ago, 37,000 of them were in a rotating dance.  Dubai for most, so easy to enter no matter what one hears.  I suppose a well dressed blonde will have less hassle at customs control.  Once you have your bags, you walk out to thousands of white clad people waiting for whomever.  It is hot and humid in June.  It is modern and overwhelming, even for a seasoned traveler as myself.  There is a valet car pickup area with young men from all over the middle east, Goa, India, and even Tibet, waiting to get your car and driver.  I knew who was to pick me up.  He called on his cell phone to try to find me in the throngs of travelers.  We met by a coffee place and off I went.

It was June.  It was so hot outside.  The air conditioner in the car only made it worse.  I couldn’t stand the frigid temperature Amir had set in the SUV but to open the window and let in the heat was worse.  It wasn’t my choice to go to a country like Dubai in June, but when the chance to see through the eyes of people who lived there presented itself, how could I refuse?  This handsome young man, Amir, worked for the people who had rented my house and he was my guide.

In the beginning I had thought everything was fine…

Let me explain.  I’d decided, against my better intuition, to rent out my house.  I’d made a mistake and listened to the wrong people.  I was nervous when the agent approached me about the rental.  Why not just sell and get out?  The market was in a horrible state. No one was buying.  I knew either way it would be tough.

When the man came to my house, he looked like a fatter genie from Aladdin’s lamp.  He wanted my house instantly, but I was wary.  After some lengthy interview time we agreed; you can rent my place, but I get to stay at his executive condo in Dubai, be his family’s guest, and see Dubai.  We sealed the deal and then went to dinner.  All seemed fine.  Mulling it over later, I kept having a nagging feeling that I should move most of my things out of the house.   A few weeks later I moved out with just a few necessary items and left the furniture in the house.  When he came to get the keys, he was very disturbed.  ”Where is the art and piano?” he inquired.  My gut tightened…  A year rental would later become a three month occupation…I would NEVER have agreed to THAT!  I flew to Dubai and the “visit’ occurred anyway. 

Amir got me settled in their executive condo and became the designated driver for everything.  Before I knew it I was being taken to every nightclub and action-packed place there was in the city.  I was in the middle of U.S. army, oil workers, flight attendants, and people from all over getting together in the steaming heat.  The first morning I woke up to the first of prayers emanating from one of the many mosques in Dubai.  It was just across the boulevard.  It was wild - five times a day, every day to hear the taped voice from the loudspeaker calling the faithful.  Across the way, out the opposite direction were all the cranes erecting the final stages of the world’s tallest structure: the Burj. (NOTE: Finished this year.)  Thousands of cranes moving.  In the other direction was the grocery store called “The Safest Way”.  Truly.  It was called that.  The Safest Way might have been staying home.

For a couple of days, Amir showed me the sights, (the packed highways, tall, wildly designed buildings, each trying to outdo each other architecturally) and regaled me with story after story of his life in Persia and Dubai.  These stories were very complicated politically and socially, peppered with drama, killings, disappearances, money, deportation and his hilarious take on it all.   I was in the middle east Disneyland - replete with trips to middle eastern buffets and more nightclubs like I mentioned - just not MY kind of Disneyland.

On the third day my roommate arrived.  I was so happy even though I hadn’t had a “roommate” since my flight attendant days…I was thrilled to greet another blonde from the USA!!!  Laura walked in standing tall and gorgeous, she said she was there to “save me”.  She was right in  so many ways.  I needed saving I thought…but in a friendly, non-ecumenical way.  Anyway………

We hit it off on every topic from humor to eye shadow and the next days would be filled with screaming laughter and trips to more nightclubs, going to that awful United Emirates Mall (and no, bigger is NOT better even if you can ski there…it was icky), discovering great hotels, and constant reports on all subjects from Amir.  She did some consulting for our “hosts” and so I would wait for what seemed like endless hours during the day for her return so we could head out again for some fun.  Amir knew EVERYONE.  But with the addition of a very smart Laura, the conversation regarding our hosts, politics, sexist behavior, and the middle east became hotter. 

The days passed and the nights filled with (now, finally) invitations to the hosts’ house for a couple of dinners, and a birthday celebration for the wife.  All seemed fun and exciting to get to know people who were a mix of middle eastern with an assortment of British isles and international spouses…