Before arriving in Dubai I thought I had prepared myself in Arabic
culture, or at least with the language a little. I practiced my Khaleds, Omars and Sayids. Some Fatimas and Miriams, As-Salāmu Alaykums and Sukrans. Names and general throaty
greetings aside, I’d heard Dubai was more liberal than other Islamic nations.
Though just to be on the safe side I decided to arrive in what I deemed appropriate
clothing. Arms covered with a cardigan - even if it meant that in between the twenty seconds it took to get between air-conditioned areas, my sticky post fourteen hour
travelling skin would have to endure the thirty six degree desert heat at 11.30pm - I was
‘ready’. With my post aeroplane icky feeling, my heavy backpack and I sat
comfortably in the backseat of my pink lady taxi.
Marta was my first encounter with a Dubai "local". She wore a baby pink hijab, which matched both the inner and
outer furnishings of the vehicle.
“So where are you
from?” asked my pastel wearing driver.
“From far away. Fourteen hours to be exact. And you?” She didn’t seem to mind my slight departure from the
question.
“Cloze Cloze. Etti
yopia. Only fife hour.”
Marta was the first of my friendly taxi drivers in my short time in
Dubai. No sooner had we left the airport, she was already telling me about the
safe and reliable city that Dubai was, outside of Ramadan Kareem of course.
“Why? How does the city change during
Ramadan?” I asked, hoping that it wouldn’t mean anything too serious.
“Well it will be
difficult to do things, and see things and also to iit, it will be maybe a little
difficult for you to iit.”
“So where will you
go today Mam?” asked one of the doormen of the hotel the next morning.
“I’d like to see a
mosque if I could.”
“I’m sorry Mam that
won’t be possible.”
“Why not?”
“Because Mam, today
is Friday, our prayer day. And besides, there is only one mosque you may enter
in all of Dubai, but not today.”
“Is it closed?”
“Of course not Mam.
It is prayer day. But you are not permitted to enter.”
“Because I’m a
woman?”
“No Mam, that is
fine. We have a section for men and women. I’m sorry but it is because you are
not a Muslim.”
“But how would they
know I’m not a Muslim?” I was happy to wear a scarf and cover myself, hadn’t
I proved that on arrival?
The two men just laughed. “Perhaps
there is another thing you would like to see in Dubai.”
“Yes I’d love to go
and visit some traditional souks.”
“Oh I’m afraid you
are not permitted to Mam.”
“Why not?”
“They are not open
now Mam. It is prayer time now. You may visit the souks in the evening Mam.”
“Ok then perhaps I
could take one of those tourist hop on - hop off buses?”
“Wonderful idea M’am.” Finally we had
found something appropriate that I could do, that didn’t require me to be Muslim
and didn’t have to wait until the evening.
“They will commence
at two o’clock in the afternoon Mam.” I looked at the time. It was only 11am.
“In the meantime,
you would like to do some shopping perhaps?”
I didn’t really want to go shopping in Dubai. I know Dubai is famous for
massive malls and the world’s best stores, but I wanted to see more than the
inside of some concrete blocks, bedazzled with expensive products that not even
my credit card would allow me to buy.
“That’s ok,” I said, “I think I’ll just get some breakfast somewhere.
I’m feeling a bit hungry.”
They laughed again. “But Mam, It
is Ramadan Kareem, we are fasting, most restaurants are closed.”
My stomach didn’t agree with this last sentence. I quickly did a stock
take of any food I may have in my luggage. I had some pálinka (a lethal
Hungarian spirit) which I doubt would ease my hunger, some wine that I had to
give to someone as a gift, and half a muesli bar from 2 days ago, which was
suddenly looking appetising.
“Perhaps you would
like to do some shopping until the restaurants will open this evening?”
THIS EVENING!!?? I CAN’T WAIT THAT LONG. I’M SO HUNGRY RIGHT NOW, I’D
EVEN CHANGE MY VEGETARIAN WAYS AND EAT CAMEL IF YOU OFFERED IT TO ME. I’VE
BEEN TRAVELLING FOR 30 HOURS, HAVING ONLY EATEN CARDBOARD PLANE FOOD AND AM DYING FOR SOMETHING
NON-PLASTIC, AND YOU’RE TELLING ME I WON’T BE ABLE TO GET FOOD OR WATER FOR AT
LEAST SEVEN HOURS!
Deciding not to say that out loud turned out to be a good decision, because
had I not gotten into Abdul’s taxi: doorman number two, I would not have
experienced the next part of my Dubai experience.
