Eric Demay

I’m there, in the oasis. Still trying it on, seeing how it fits.

One foot out of the airport towards the taxi line-up, the air, so hot and humid, hits you instantly. Sweet sweat, that feels good. The arabic signage, the luxury vehicles cars are coming and going. We’re not in Kansasada anymore and I love it. The same kind of feeling I had when leaving the airport in Beijing back in January: all is exotic, you have no clue at all where you’re heading to, but you enjoy that uncertainty because you’re there and now part of it.

Speeding on the highway, the taxi driver keeps quiet. He’s polite and answers my questions but no more. His english is not that great. He’s Egyptian, has been working in Dubai for 6 years now and loves it. Not like the Pakistani driver I met the next day, who only gets to see his wife and kids a few times a year back in his home country.

Looking out the window, Dubai seems so un-sophisticatedly sprawled all over the place. Gawd, is all of this for real?