Dubai: Where is the limit?

by sakeena ahsan

When you think “Arab,” the image of hairy men with lazy eyes, touting rocks and guns, invoking some vicious god comes to mind. You think of grimy kids running in overturned streets, barefoot and wearing their older brother’s clothes from two years ago. You think of crumbling buildings, aching with the will to not collapse on their starving inhabitants. You think of eight trembling hands with dirt, sweat, and blood under their fingernails, all reaching for the same dinner plate of lentils and bread. You think of sleazy bearded men wearing sunglasses and kuffiyehs shaking the hand of some sleazy American politician, having just sold their poverty-stricken peoples’ lives for their day in hell. You don’t think of starry-eyed, filthy rich Dubai.

Dubai. The rich man’s utopia. People from all over the world fly to Dubai every year to feel specially rich and privileged. I mean, who else can claim that an entire city was built for them? Ah, Dubai, where you can get your four thousand dirham blazers and embroidered bathing suits while the imported lower class rots in the useless shade of some manicured tree—the air is so baked that the only thing shade prevents is brown people from getting browner. Tired of skiing in your personal cabin on your multi million dollar resort somewhere in the Alps? Why, you could come ski in the middle of the desert for multi million dollars more! It’s completely unnatural, completely irrational, and totally classy! Are your elevators not fast enough? Come ride the fastest elevator on earth, so fast, they actually had to slow it down so people would stop puking on their mink coats. The entire city glimmers with its buildings made entirely of windows; you’d think in the middle of the desert the last thing you want is more windows, but they don’t have to worry about that there, there’s plenty of money to invest in air conditioning. In fact, they have so much money, they HAVE to make glass buildings, or else they wouldn’t know WHAT to do with such a fortune. I can’t think of any cause to put it all to better use. Build a random body of water in the middle of the city? Mmm… already did that. Come to Dubai, where the most useful thing anyone thinks to do with their time is stroll nonchalantly through the five-story malls, in their fitted abayas, passing uninterested eyes over the world’s most expensive brand names. Hands down, Dubai is the most luxurious place on earth. It’s so luxurious, the entire human race should be blushing with hot shame.

The whole thing is so over my head, all I can do is laugh. I mean, where was everyone when a few slimy businessmen got together and decided to construct the world’s cruelest, sickest, lowest joke? Hey, Ahmed, let’s make a playground for disgustingly rich people—in the middle of the dessert! Hahahaha!!!!! Wait... Abe, are you for real?... Eh, I suppose I have some extra million dirhams to spare.

Really, I understand the whole concept of supply and demand, but in the Urdu words of my mother: Koi hudd hotha hain! There is always a limit to everything! I mean, people got so bored and uselessly rich, they decided to build an island hotel. Well, gee, that was so practical. Kudos, architects of Dubai. I commend your contribution to humanity. That hotel. My my. It sure gave a lot of emaciated Pakistani immigrants a lot of secure jobs. Mmm… oh wait. No,…no, it didn’t, because last time I checked, they were still rotting under that manicured tree.

The beauty of it all is that Dubai continues to grow at an exponential rate. The crane industry is having a ball. The skyline changes literally every night. People won’t have to worry about sandstorms anymore because all the sand will be gone. Soon, there will be more shopping malls in Dubai than there are fed children in Africa. I just wait for the day when their genius little light bulb lights up over their heads again and TING! Dubai—under glass! Don’t think they can do it? Think it defies every law of physics, chemistry, and Murphy’s understanding of the world? Think again. Sand might even become a precious commodity, but those cigar-puffing executives will bid a thousand Euros per pound to create the most complete haven a rich star can buy. Those heirs and foreign princes will not be sold short. They will not be insulted by mere designer evening gowns or a fourth house in Malibu. Dubai will be the finery they seek, the chance to dip into the deepest recesses of their pocket and know that even though they trapeze around the most expensive place on earth, they STILL have enough money to spare… the question is, to spare for what?

Honestly, it’s true; some people are so dumb and rich, you can’t always resist pandering to their basest desires. But do you really have to do it when your brothers across the sea are drenched in the blood of their cousins? When your fathers up the coast just lost their entire livelihood when that last olive tree succumbed to the teeth of a Caterpillar? When, further inland, big-eyed, big-bellied children wear no clothes and all their mothers can do is not cry so much when they die? When, across the continent, a peaceful people fights against religious persecution? When, just across the ocean, your little sister reaches her young and naive fingertips to the sky in a plea, imploring humanity for a little humanity, not yet jaded by the harsh reality of the negligence and selfishness of Man? Why must another little girl be raped by the situation she was born into when some size-zero model struts her whitened teeth around some unreal restaurant that serves a plate of two shrimp drizzled with fancy glaze and a sprig of thyme, all for the cost of your brother’s arm and leg?

What’s my point? Why am I, a Pakistani, hijacking space in an Arab magazine (oops, did I just say ‘hijack’ and ‘Arab’ in the same sentence hahaha)? Because, I am indignant. We are a human race and injustice on one person is the responsibility of us all. Dubai, my friends, is a gross injustice.

Ahmed and Abe must be thrilled for what they’ve created: Dubai! Finally! A real desert oasis! Just what the world needed.

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Sakeena Ahsan is an undergraduate student at UC Berkeley.