a toy with every transaction

One of the smart new housing developments in Dubai has an ad on the side of the buses: An Audi with every apartment, a Porsche with every Penthouse.

When you have seemingly unlimited resources, who needs to be clever?

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insomnia

I woke up at 2.00 the other morning. My head wouldn’t stop, so I got up and spent a few hours on the computer. At 4.30 Allison brought Kyria (5 weeks) out to the room I was working in; she nursed, and we sat and talked.

At 5.30 Ian (22 months) woke up crying, shouting, screaming: his mummy and daddy had abandoned him (we all sleep in the same bed) for another room and another kid. He raged around the house for an hour, shouting “go ‘way! go ‘way!”, and following us from room to room to push our knees away and writhe on the floor.

We kept telling him how much we loved him; to him we must seem like flagrant, fatuous hypocrites, silvering our tongues with words of affection while our actions have him wake up all on his only.

Will he ever trust us again? Kids do.

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nothing happened, again

There used to be a Fall song that started with Mark E. Smith declaiming through some kind of megaphone: All those who entitle themselves, or whose main entitle is themselves, shall feel the wrath of my bombast! before the band lurched into a high-energy, thrash-chord-driven rant. I have to be more diplomatic.

There have been a few scare stories about how the fines for various (unenforced) traffic offences in Dubai were going to be doubled, or even converted to short jail sentences – but nothing has happened. It used to be true that you would only see a traffic cop out if there was an accident – and it’s still true. Perhaps the police sit in their offices believing that if they bark loudly enough, people will be scared they’re going to bite this time, even though they never have in the past. Or perhaps they’re short of manpower.

Either way, there is still the same approximate proportion of decent (if slightly fast) drivers to lousy and irresponsible ones – let’s say nine to one. And the nine still get from the one the same combination of racetrack maneouvres, dangerous swerving, high-speed lane indiscipline, serial queue-jumping (though that is also fed by those who let them get away with it), overtaking on the hard shoulder, aggressive tailgating and other selfish, discourteous and potentially lethal road behaviours. Nothing has changed.

A motorcycle cop was killed yesterday on Sheikh Zayed Road by a woman who swerved out of lane and forced his bike into a concrete barrier. Now they’ve lost one of their own, maybe they will finally do something?

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old meaning new

Dubai’s newest development, Burj Dubai, will contain the tallest building in the world – briefly. Its developer Emaar’s chief competitor, Nakheel, has an even taller one planned for the causeway to one of the vast artificial islands it is constructing in the shape of a palm tree in the Gulf.

At the moment though, the selling point that Emaar is pushing for Burj Dubai is the yet-to-be-constructed “Old Town”: Own a Little Piece of History, goes the slogan. The history in question is still a patch of sand just off the main Dubai – Abu Dhabi highway, containing nothing that functions beyond the developer’s dreams.  The headline over the ad goes Live where the Old Town meets Downtown Dubai. It promises spacious parks, luxurious pools, and spectacular skylines; it name-checks London and New York.

There is a real Old Town in Dubai: Bastakiya, an area of attractive little courtyard houses with traditional wind towers next to the Creek, the city’s main waterway. Many of them have been converted into art galleries. There’s also a scarcely definable point where this district meets the rowdy tangle of the real downtown Dubai, but it’s about ten kilometres on the ground from Emaar’s construction site – and much further in spirit.

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trick of first light

Our baby girl was born on February 10th.

We took my wife to the hospital in Sharjah the night before; then I brought Ian (21 months) home and we managed some sleep without her. I dropped him off at the baby sitter early in the morning. As I drove out along Emirates Road, on the way to the birth of my daughter, I glanced to the right: there, a couple of hundred metres away, was a graveyard, its silver markers gleaming in the lemony light of the rising sun. I meditated on birth and death: life’s beginning and end. Where do we come from and where do we go? Is it nowhere and straight back there, or is there more to it than that?

Two hours later I was watching them lift my baby daughter flailing from the womb, cleaning her down, cropping her cord, sprucing her up and readying her for the long journey ahead.

A few days on, driving Emirates Road in the afternoon. I glanced across and realized that the graveyard had really only been a vegetable farm.

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crackdown, they say

The papers say that there is to be a crackdown on dangerous driving, with fines and cars impounded for running red lights, weaving in and out of traffic at speed, and driving on the shoulder. The story seems to come round about once a year, and of course it’s welcome if true, though in the past nothing has actually happened.

For me the worst thing about the driving culture is none of those things (though the knowledge that someone may attack you on the shoulder does cause additional stress to the courteous, disciplined driver), but some people’s inability to keep distance. I just don’t think many people understand the dangers of driving so close behind another car; and then there is a minority who think they have the right to do so because everyone else should get out of the way for them.

Speaking of these people, I also have to wonder whether, if there is a crackdown, it will be enforced on those in the expensive, aggressive cars who are often the worst offenders…

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120kg of gold

Win 120kg of gold! blares from billboards around Dubai. They don’t do excess by halves…

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designer wave

On the radio, two stations join forces for a tsunami fundraiser. Good on them. They do it in very Dubai style, too: the first item up for auction is a $550 Estee Lauder hamper…

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downstairs upstairs

A story in the paper about a 52-year-old guy from Kerala who drives a bakery truck and lives in a room in Sharjah with nine other working men: he won a luxury studio in one of the swank new apartment towers at the extreme opposite end of Dubai. Given that he earns about US$300 a month, I wonder how many lifetimes he would have to have saved up to actually buy the place? Refreshingly, he seems to have stayed completely level-headed in the face of this descent from heaven of someone else’s free-gym-membership lifestyle fantasy: he’s reported as saying he’s going to carry on living and working in the same setup, and sell the flat to pay for his children’s education. There’s a man with his priorities straight. A nicely comic illustration of the spread in ambitions between wealth and service in the new Dubai…

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tsunami on Dover Beach

The Archbishop of Canterbury – a thoughtful character – says that the awful suffering, and the 200,000+ dead, caused by the tsunami in the Indian Ocean must cause many Christians to question their faith in God. It’s hard to disagree – if I was a Christian I’d certainly be having terrible pangs.

But perhaps that’s why I’m not a Christian. Since the sine qua non of the religion is a confession of belief in an improbable victory over mortality 2000 years ago, I thought the whole point was that death is not the end. Moreover, Christians are supposed to believe that if you have made your confession of faith and lived to a certain standard, you’re guaranteed a slot in the good hereafter when your time’s up. So, even if it would be a bit tasteless to say so in public, shouldn’t true Christians be, well, at least unconcerned that so many people have been rewarded early?

As for the grief of those who have lost everything or nearly everything, stout Christians of centuries past wouldn’t have allowed that to sway their convictions; they would have argued that this life is a vale of tears, and that although those who survive are bound to be desolate, at least they can take consolation in knowing their loved ones who were killed have been released from the suffering of this life into a better world.

So it’s hard not to conclude that this religion has lost its bearings quite badly when its chief practitioners admit they find themselves in the same muddy slough of uncertainty as those of us who only know that we don’t know. The positive side is that a lot of them do a great deal to help the victims of disasters, with no strings attached – though Christian belief is by no means a prerequisite for that. And their confusion and doubt are certainly far preferable to the blind ignorant conviction of the fundamentalists, Christian or otherwise…

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