Thursday, October 21, 2010

Started in Dubai...ended in Qatar. A Feminine Analogy.


-Brother, look at those two females…
-Which ones are you referring to?
Right there, standing adjacent to one another, the blonde one and the dark haired one... that woman behind the window curtain is standing at their back sides, can you view them clearly?
-Oh yes, yes, I see them clearly. What’s the issue with that female behind the curtains?
-I don’t know man, I can’t see her face but I think her male companion is standing next to her so f’ that. Seriously dude, the blonde and the brunette, those girls are the talk of the town and we need to check them out, are you up for it?
-Yah, I guess so…let’s find out who they are first, my brother, Amir, knows everybody at this party!
-Dude, are we going to have to listen to him talk about his trip to Dubai and Qatar again?
-Yah dude, he will probably talk about his travels for a bit, just to let us know he is all worldly, then he will introduce us to the females, don’t worry.


Amir: Ok guys, Dubai has two things worth talking about. Well, maybe there are more than two haha but I was only there for three days and I was so messed up the entire time I don’t remember much haha, you feel me. Dubai is awesome.
            Gentlemen, let me tell you about Dubai Mall. Dubai Mall is the biggest mall in the world, the f’ing biggest! It has the biggest indoor fish tank in the world and has the most department stores under one roof than any other mall ever! Anywhere!  I saw stores for every brand you can think of, Gucci, Prada, Armani, Zara, you name it. If it’s famous and expensive and screams opulence with ear piercing astuteness, this mall most positively allows for its spontaneous consumption. I spent so much money in this place it’s not even funny. Seriously, I’m not laughing.
            The stores are great, the variety is amazing, but the real treat is the eye candy. Western women strut around flaunting their skin like it’s a fashion show designed by Hannibal Lector. I’m talking lower backs, upper thighs, chests and much more. It’s all on display for the dollar in Dubai Mall. You just have to look fly and look expensive and you’ll make Dubai happen. Ok so after you get pimped out at the mall, hit up the Gold Souk.
            The Gold Souk. Miles of shiny glass windows protecting shiny gold trinkets and jewels all sparkling and shimmering with extravagance. This isn’t your standard jewelry store, brothers. And in Dubai, nothing seems to be standard, that’s just the rule. Further down the street in the Creek Area of Dubai is the rest of the souk. Vendors on top of vendors. Shops on shops. Shoulder to shoulder bustle and hustle. Fake Rolex, fake designer bags, cheap clothes, anything you can think of that should be expensive and hard to find is here. Even sex. Yah, just walk around for a bit, you’ll get asked to visit with some ladies if you know what I mean.

           


            Qatar is different than Dubai. The city is calmer and didn’t seem to be as crazy. But like Dubai, they’re loaded. Oil money to spare and then some. I’ll start with Education City. Qatar has brought in a couple of big name American Universities to service its young aspiring minds. They pour huge amounts of black gold profits into this palace like compound of the liberal arts and needless to say the facilities are decedent. The Qatar Foundation utilizes its enormous pocketbook to bring in academic personas from around the globe. Cutting edge debates often occur and BBC World often televises them. It’s really invigorating. The souk in Doha is also pretty cultured. The shops tend to carry historically significant items like Kanjars and Abayas. They even sell falcons! You can get traditional shwarma right off the street or you can live it up some designer restaurants, right in the souk! The souk itself looks really old and exactly what I pictured an Arabian souk to look like. It’s so clean and well organized too! Doha has had some real genius’ help with their city planning. Obviously some body has been thinking about sustainability in this place!
           
-       That’s all great Amir. You’re such a worldly guy and you’ve been to some great places. But I was wondering if you could tell Fareed and me about those two girls standing over there by the curtains. Do you know them?

Uhhh, ya, wow, I do. That’s Debra and Quaniqua. What do you want with those two?

-       They seem really cool; we just want to know about them, can you help us?

Yes. I dated both of them last year. They’re sisters. Seemingly different on the outside, but in reality, quite similar. I’ll start with Debra. You know that type of girl…  the one everybody talks about like she is some rare goddess of beauty.  Her allure always precedes her presence. Everybody says how posh and en-vogue her style is, and how alluring her body is. Her golden blonde hair just shimmers on a beautiful day, her clothes are perfectly tailored as they compliment her every curve. Man, I could just trace her lines with my eyes all day and never even have to say a word. Really, a stunning woman, a true work of art, nothing else like her. But I know first hand, she’s easy. Easily understood and easily taken advantage of. She just doesn’t have much in the way of a personality or any self-confidence for that matter. That’s why we broke up. She slept with some guy who drove a Ferrari and owned his own trading company. Way out of my league. Man, what I wouldn’t give for just one more weekend alone with her.
            Now Quaniqua, she’s a force to be reckoned with. Still a decent looking girl but she has other priorities to be considered. Both these girls get a lot of money from daddy and he pretty much pays all their bills. But, Quaniqua, is a little older and she’s not only gainfully employed, but she’s got a couple college degrees in her resume. This girl is all about educating herself at foreign universities and setting a concrete foundation for her future. In fact, she’s so concerned with getting degrees from abroad and accruing international academic merits that I’m pretty sure she lost her innate sense of self a long time ago. She isn’t all that concerned with looking lavish and opulent but she does ok. All I know is I couldn’t keep up with all the time she spent studying and hanging out with her family, they have a click that just didn’t welcome me no matter how much time we spent together, I just wasn’t good enough. I felt like an outsider in her own little world.
            ____________________________________________________

                                               
             Dubai and Qatar are like two teenage sisters who have grown up in the same house, the Gulf region of the Middle East, and with the same ability to fall back on and utilize natural wealth as a means of achieving their respective visions.
            Dubai’s reputation precedes a visit there just like the reputation of a stunningly beautiful woman in a small community often precedes and intimidates a conversation with her. Brand Dubai is presented to the entire world as place where anything is achievable and all are welcome to their wildest dreams. When in reality most things are achievable and only for the steepest prices. In Dubai as with shallow beautiful women, money opens the door and has the potential to break the ice, or cultural barriers. Essentially, money in Dubai trumps nationality as well as intentionality. Massive daunting structures of the most cutting edge architectural design punctuate the Dubai skyline and give merit to a seemingly divine cityscape, but there’s nothing inside these behemoth mountains of steel and glass. ‘For rent’ and ‘open space available’ signs dot the largest and most extravagant buildings all over the city. Just like a beautiful woman can capture a man’s eye and set him on a whimsical journey through the cavernous bowels of his desirous mind, so too can Dubai’s physical landscape serve as a masterpiece for creating unsatisfied yearning at the expense of those who are monetarily less endowed. Empty marvels of architectural flawlessness display soulless charisma and allude to the lackluster personality of a woman in search of the bigger and better deal as a means of gaining widespread attention. Dubai has used its vast oil wealth to garner a vision as the Middle East’s trading center. They have been successful, but at some cost. Culture and genuine personality are hard to find in Dubai, as the almighty dollar seems to have cast a cloak of steel makeup over any semblance of historical grounding. Why is Dubai like this? How did these buildings get here? Who cares, it looks enthralling and pumps money from the ground into the sky! This kind of woman is enticing and if you have the right moves and the right riches to keep her satisfied anything is possible. However, just like anyplace or anyone with whom money has the ability to push the limits, poverty has the ability to set the lowest bar. And in Dubai, the disparity between the opulence you see in the clouds and what really exists behind the walls of places like the Gold Souk is greatly disappointing for a region of the world with so much potential.
            There is no brand Qatar. Like a well-educated and self-respecting woman, Qatar does not feel the need to make itself into a gimmick consisting of wild fantasies in order to sell itself to the entire world as a playground for the rich and lustful. Qatar’s self-confidence is evident in its ability to promote its worth based on hard earned academic and investment accreditation rather than empty physical characteristics. There are a few skyscrapers modeling across Doha’s skyline and they are not by any stretch of the imagination, behemoth. In twenty-seven years, Qatar’s ability to garner international investment in Doha will be sufficient to sustain the country without the existence of oil wealth. Qatar has clearly worked hard to ensure a sustainable future for its self.
            Education City is just one example of this foresight. However, Qatar’s vision to be the educational cornerstone of the world has also come at some cost. Rather, they have become somewhat of a steppingstone for universities like Georgetown and Carnegie Melon to utilize their abroad campuses as an international service hub for a more ‘wordly’ perception of themselves. The question of whom these American universities abroad really serve is still up in their air.
            When it comes to the academically paranoid, one of two scenarios exists. We can feel the need to take shortcuts and risk originality for the sake of efficiency, or the decision to forgo time-consuming life experiences is accepted in an effort to get work done. Qatar has done a little of both in its laborious attempt to fulfill its vision. I’m not saying that Qatar has cheated in the same sense that plagiarism is cheating, but they have taken some shortcuts and retarded some natural development. Education systems have the ability to determine the national identity of a nations youth. By importing higher education, Qatar has not allowed its own style of cultivating young minds to develop organically.  Just as the girl who educates herself abroad will inevitably take on the sensibilities of the places in which she studies, so to will Qatari students educated at Georgetown adopt an American centric view of their home and the world.
            There are roughly 200,000 Qatari citizens who receive benefits such as utilities payments, healthcare, automobile insurance and education from the government’s pocketbook. This is compared to the roughly 2,000,000 people living in Doha and the surrounding desert. This larger population is made up of mostly imported Indian laborers who build and run the gritty day to day in Qatar. Just as it is not entirely within a man’s control if his girlfriend’s family accepts him as their own, gaining access to this elite minority of benefited Qataris is relatively impossible. 
            Qatar is not Dubai’s sister. If anything, the two countries are like cousins whose parents derive their wealth from the same trust fund, oil. The biggest difference is in how the two sates have utilized oil wealth to carve a niche in the world. Dubai has used its wealth to create a sex appeal that attracts gaudy trade wealth and consumer insecurities. The need to spend and buy in Dubai is parallel with sightseeing. Qatar is doing a better job of creating a sustainable future, but it is still having some trouble finding its innate sense of self. For both places, some serious soul searching is definitely in order.



             

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Started in Dubai...ended in Qatar.



I sat shotgun in this Bell Longranger helicopter... my pilot:"do you speak English mate?"..."yes"..."don't touch anything."
               Burj Al-Arab and coastline from 3,000 feet. The haze is a mixture of fog and pollution.
             The uninhabited world project. The islands are there for the buying...where are all the takers??
                                          That's how they do it.
            This is Dubai Creek...the souk is behind Rolex tower...my Iranian friends docked right here...
                                    A soon to be private beach home on one of the 'Palm' branches...
           The Dubai Gold Souk is a massive jewelry and raw gold market. Hundreds of shops line the     street and back alleys with gold, gold and more gold. 
                 Look at the shoppers...mostly Westerners...Dubai Souk is a shady place for shady business.
                                                      This man's face says it all for me.
                This man's shop is a perfect example of marketing towards Western consumption rituals.
                                    A big busy place the Dubai Souk is... easy to get swallowed up.
 Just passing by/ snapping a picture... I was invited by the crew to hop on board their vessel docked in Dubai Creek... Just me, my camera, a cliff bar and some sunglasses, the boat was docked roughly 3 boats out or about 60 feet off the pier... would you go?
 They live in Iran and have a license to ship goods from Dubai back to Bandar Abbas each month. Not a short journey...they had been on the boat for two weeks strait. The crew spoke a little English and understood some of my Arabic...but Iranians speak Farsi...the communication barrier was intense but rewarding. 
                              They proudly fly the Iranian flag 50 miles off the coast of their home.
                            'Aref' spoke some English...a few sentences... he still made me laugh.
 The crew was really a heartwarming bunch... they had so little but shared so much...their language, their political beliefs, their jokes...and some Iranian tea with a cigarette. I can't thank them enough for their hospitality, wherever they might be...
 'Morteza'...the first mate...spoke decent English and served as a translator for the crew...He was educated and polite and gave me all of his contact information in Iran, "for if I ever want to visit, I have a sleep." The crew asked me to stay on the boat and set sail for Iran in the morning as a deckhand...too far.
                                                                   The Qatari sun.
                               Al-Jazera TV is housed in Qatar...a news anchor reads her notes.
                                                                     Camel.
                                                                      Camel meat.
    I have become a self-proclaimed connoisseur of Shwarma...the UAE has the best so far, but I hear Lebanon is pretty good.
 Falcons are highly valued luxury animals in Qatar and the UAE... sure, it's safe...just wear the glove...and watch out for the razor sharp talons... judging by the hissing and scratching, this bird was pissed and for the first time on my journey...I felt uncomfortable.
 Falcons like these...sold at the Qatar Souk in Doha...can be purchased for roughly $800,000.
                                                                    Amazing creatures.
               Still a product of mother nature no matter how high of a price tag we place on her head.
                              This man makes custom bracelets from heating plastic over hot coal.
                                           This man designs, crafts and sells custom hookahs.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Salalah Pictures

A large wooden dhow filled with cows from East Africa docks in Salalah Port.

Traditional Coconut stand.

Banana farmers.

A man heating up some traditional Yemeni 'Mushkak' at a bustling local restaurant.

Sailors.

These guys are policemen from Muscat about to start a tour in Salalah. We talked over some juice.

'Mushkak'

Shop keeper at the Haffa Souk...he is making leather holsters.

"Look at all those white kids getting off that big bus"

The Valley of the Witches is believed to be ruled by black magic.

'Jabal Akhdar' or Green Mountains


A mountain family on the move.

This species of tree is believed to be the oldest in the world. The concept for Rafiki's tree home in The Lion King?

Deep Contemplation.


Vegetation Abound.

Salalah Port.

Salalah


Wednesday morning I flew from Muscat to Salalah. Salalah is the southern most area of Oman and it shares a border with Yemen.  In the late 1960’s and early 1970’s, the broader region containing Salalah, named Dohfar, was the site for the infamous Dohfar Rebellion. Before going to Salalah, I had specifically read about this insidious insurrection that Qaboos had swiftly and mercifully dealt with during his early reign in an effort to fully unite the distinct geographical and cultural divisions of Northern and Southern Oman. Per my Pre-departure preparation, I also understood that the modernization that is so prevalent in Muscat, i.e. shopping malls, car dealerships, movie theatres, has slowly and incompletely trickled down the face of the country and only recently landed in Salalah. In retrospect, the Salalah I witnessed last Wednesday is much more complex in its expression of the past and much deeper in its roots than I imagined. However, this idea of trickling-modernity; where frivolous amenities and gaudy hotels along with healthcare facilities and better schools come down slowly and tactfully… seems more like an inevitable monsoon than a couple of random raindrops from above.


                                                            Oman Air
Oman air runs exactly one flight a week to Salalah from Muscat… if you miss your flight or can’t afford the ticket or just want to see the countryside and take pictures … It is roughly 1010km or about 550 miles and a twelve-hour bus ride from to your destination. I wanted to drive. SIT bought me a plane ticket. I flew.
            Oman Air runs a luxurious service in the skies of Arabia. Judging airlines is an interestingly subjective process as almost every passenger has different needs and “comfort ability” levels when their lives are in the hands of two hopefully well-trained and sober individuals whispering orders over an intercom at 10,000 feet. I like a meal, some legroom, and a cool air-temperature, in that order. And of course a solid landing but that’s not my point.
            The in-flight meal was delectable and even had some semblance of traditional Omani nourishment…rice, beef or pasta, salad, water or tea, a roll and a piece of cake were politely and delicately dished out in solid golden colored plastic dishware on our one hour flight. The seats in coach were situated unusually far apart and provided more than ample legroom for me to stretch out and pass out without feeling guilty about constricting the passenger behind me. From my window seat, I could see the hot air outside the plane wearily waving and weaving its way off the grey tarmac into the boiling Arabian atmosphere…I didn’t sweat a drop.
            Interestingly, per my good Omani friend, Al-Jisr… pre-departure, I had the regal pleasure of meeting face-to-face, one on one, with the CEO of Oman Air. We chatted for a few hours over some delightful fish and a little hookah. He was really a nice guy with a very apparent knack for efficient management. I have one constructive suggestion for him if we ever meet again… do some research on cell-phone/ computer use on the plane…maybe Oman Air has…all I know is that cell phones can be used in contention with a computerized internet connection at any time during the Oman Air flight…per my American streamlined conditioning, I still turned my phone off and read a book.
                                                Salalah’s Great Juxtaposition
            Salalah should be un-refined, raw, non-materialistic and basic… the tribes should be ruling and defying the North via guerilla style insurgency. The streets should be rampant with thugs and vandals, unsafe for women and weaker individuals. Right? There was a revolution here? People died, bullets were fired and foreign armies were called in for assistance. Where is the chaos and where are the violent politico-tribe clashes? Where’s the thick tension between the natives and foreigners who bring un-pure influences? They’re someplace else, and certainly not in today’s Salalah or for that matter the greater Dohfar region.
            Salalah is less modernized than Muscat. It’s an observable fact in the town of Mirbat. In some places, houses remain vacant and dilapidated. Shops and supply stores are all seemingly locally owned. There is no Starbucks, no McDonalds and certainly no disco club. Modernization has spread top down in Oman in two ways…one; the government and the commercial elite have been the chief catalysts for change as they have imported cars, chain restaurants, and various other types of foreign capital. Also, and secondly, this change his physically travelled from the North of the country to the South since 1970. It is only natural that a place like Salalah would be less technical and far less reliant on today’s parsimonious machine-gadgetry. Ok, so where’s the gritty farm landscape and short-lived mud huts with half starving natives? Is that a Toyota Land Cruiser?
I wanted Salalah to be unrefined and raw. I wanted to see a place untouched by the selling’s of America. Someplace exclusively in touch with nature and unfiltered through a movie screen perspective. Well dammit, that rustic pipe dream of an idea got flooded and evaporated quicker than a wadi riverbed in the middle of summer. Our first stop off of the airplane and the metaphorical catalyst for my neural water vapor was the Ministry of Tourism.
            Salalah is going to be an amazing tourist haven by 2020. At least 10 different hotels and miniature villa cities are going to be tactically and expediently erected so that they may blossom into refined, distilled and fettered zones of vacation land fun for the whole family. “Ehhemm,” the whole wealthy probably Saudi or Emirati family. Salalah may very well save Oman in the near future or it may spread the roots of destruction…with roughly 60 years of oil left in the ground and the Sultan nearing his pass, God forbid…Oman needs a new thriving sector of the economy to support its current life choices. This brings to light an interesting juxtaposition that I observed on my visit. The government’s view of Salalah as an investment opportunity and a proverbial goldmine and the residents of Salalah’s view of their home as just that, home, “what could go wrong here with Sultan Qaboos, a former Salalalien himself, at the helm?”
            There seem to be a lot of juxtapositions in Salalah that call into question this same “government opposite the native Omani perspective.” From high up in the mountains, standing right by a weathered and self-sustaining farmhouse with tires on its roof to keep the semi-leak-proof tarp from getting displaced by the strong Northern winds… I could see both the Salalah Port and the Salalah Free Zone. The Port is a massive stretch of cranes with loading and unloading apparatuses mixed with gargantuan container ships and tiny wooden dhows afoot a network of stored shipment containers and section fencing with a few naval armaments sprinkled around the seemingly bottomless maritime salad bar. The Salalah Free Zone is a vast expanse of desert land to big for the human eye to capture in one panorama even from atop the surrounding mountains. I was told that Oman is doing a lot to encourage international capital investment in the form of factories in the Free Zone. The idea is that companies exist tax-free for the first 30 years of operation in this designated area of Salalah. The Port exists as a modern art-full eye sore on an otherwise pristine coastline. The Free Zone would just be empty desert, but I’m sure the plans for a methane plant in the near future will surely increase the need for some pungent perfume. And that’s just it. At what cultural and natural price does Oman declare it’s future economic investments… worth it? How much is the government willing to risk in terms of heritage preservation and do the people of Salalah get any say in the matter?
            The traditional coconut stand I visited would suggest that natives to Salalah are already saturated with tourist benefits. The stand was roughly 100yards long and had the allure of being “off the beaten pathway”… The vendors were friendly and more than happy to satisfy my coco craving as well as provide me with some sugar cane and a few nice pictures. The only other consumers present at the market were a few Saudis debating which produce to buy. As I stood sipping my coconut and waiting for the group to pack up and ship out, I noticed an older man walking in his under-garments out of the thick banana trees that grew behind the market. He seemed angry as he exchanged some harsh words with one of the vendors…he was brushed aside with a sweeping hand gesture and sent back to the banana forest from which he came. As he was walking back I could tell that he took a fleeting interest in my camera. I followed him. About 30 yards behind the market I found him sitting near a flowing ‘falaj’ or a long slender irrigation canal…this suggests that the land was very fertile and the soil was saturated with water. He motioned for me come over. I walked slowly toward him and by that time his friend had showed up. They were friendly and didn’t understand any of the classical Arabic I spoke. The man scooped up a palm full of water from the ‘falaj’ and directed it spritely into his mouth. He motioned to ask if I wanted any…I did my best to say that the water would make me sick… I think he understood as he then dug a shallow hole in the ground with his hands and drank the murky water that bubbled up. He laughed and made a motion to flex his muscle presumably saying that he could drink the water because he was strong. I walked back toward the coconut stand with his laughter resounding in the background. The coconut stand was filled with tourists. To a Westerner, it had the allure of an older world and an unrefined dining experience. Maybe that is Salalah’s future in a nutshell. Seemingly old and unrestricted but wrought with a fleeting sense of appreciation that can only be held by one who stays somewhere definitely, a tourist. All the while, the natives who nourish themselves strait from the ground with their bare hands will be cast into the background laughing at their un-adapted guests.
            Salalah is beautiful to say the least. The mountains are daunting and the coastline is private and colorful. At times, I felt like I could have been in Africa. Wild herds of camel, goats and lush green vegetation give Salalah an authentic sensibility. This unique place may very well save Oman’s economic future. However, just as Salalah was the revolutionary tipping point for change in the 1960’s and 1970’s… this second round of change will again come at some cost.
           

-        


Friday, October 1, 2010

A few from Muscat...

I'll be writing a nice post about my wonderful excursion to Southern Oman...in the meantime, because I just got back to Muscat this evening, these photos should suffice. They are all taken in Muscat and should relate to my last post.  The last picture in this post is just a taste...
It is very common to see Omanis having a picnic on a median in the middle of the city.

This Indian man walks past me every morning with a smile while I sit at the bus stop...he sanitizes dumpsters for a living.

New mosques are always being erected.
 Salalah is a truly breathtaking region of the world... I will go back someday.