Thursday, February 26th, 2004: Once again, arose about 8AM and all three of us returned to Dhafeer, for a slightly extended walking tour + photo shoot in the desert. I was astonished by the myriad of tracks. On the same spot yesterday evening, the windswept sand appeared lifeless. But early in the morning, witness the plethora of signs of life! Evidence of bugs (Rhinoceros & Scarab beetle tracks…Mark explained how enormous these critters were), lizards, snakes and a small dog or fox littered the landscape (wish I had an authority to confirm this was a fennic fox so I could impress my daughter, a big fan of animals and one of her favorites is a stuffed replica she has of a fennic fox…which she knows quite a lot about and lives in these environs). When the lights go out, the desert must come alive.
We trekked awhile and returned for breakfast about 10AM. Afterwards I caught up on this journal for a bit while reveling in the sandy oblivion presented from my back porch.
Looking upon the Empty Quarter from my porch in Liwa
Samia headed for the pool at 11AM and the boys ventured out to seek Waheeb Hill, which at 800 feet is reported to be the world’s largest sand dune. The receptionist informed us it was 45 minutes away, so we were already resigned we wouldn’t go the distance as we would soon need to start back to Dubai.
However, the short progress we made was very cool. There does exist a single black top road winding back through the dunes towards Waheeb Hill. In places it almost entirely drifted shut by sand --- interestingly reminiscent of snow drifts and lending understanding to the caveat from the receptionist that the attempt cannot be made without a heavy duty 4WD vehicle. Up and down we proceeded through monstrous canyons of sand. Wild to witness all the sand pyramids extending as far as the eye can see.
Each “pass” we went over usually bottomed out to a salt marsh, where a few trucks and several laborers sweated away. I was surprised by the occasional inhabited blockhouses and snapped off several obligatory pictures of camels. There were a couple ‘camel ranches’ out here and we even passed a small caravan of camels that evoked strong visions of “Arabian Sands” and bedouins from a time just lost!
Each “pass” we went over usually bottomed out to a salt marsh, where a few trucks and several laborers sweated away. I was surprised by the occasional inhabited blockhouses and snapped off several obligatory pictures of camels. There were a couple ‘camel ranches’ out here and we even passed a small caravan of camels that evoked strong visions of “Arabian Sands” and bedouins from a time just lost!
Mark & I took some pictures around a curious sign along the road. It was a big exclamation point in an upside-down yield sign. We were in the middle of nowhere and didn’t encounter a single moving vehicle, so we were intrigued what it could mean. And I was tickled when we passed another one along the highway by Abu Dhabi which included the English subtitle of “anticipate surprises” …too funny!
Several years later I submitted this picture to a web site featuring wacky signs (www.signspotting.com) and was delighted to receive a check for $50 eight months later purchasing the rights. Don’t laugh…now you have to address me as “Mr. Professional Photographer”.
Flash forward another year and I was further surprised to receive a complimentary copy of “Signspotting II” in the mail à where my photograph was the final snapshot included in the book! This really is an amusing book and only $9.99 on Amazon: go to http://www.amazon.com/Lonely-Planet-Signspotting-Worlds-Absurd/dp/1741791820/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1288883476&sr=1-2].
…always glad to autograph your copy! J
Anticipate Surprises - my picture, which is the last entry in ‘Signspotting II’
But back to the dunes. Time ticked all too quickly away and we doubled back to Liwa in search of a gas station to top off for the long cruise home. Mark pulled over to ask two Arabic gentlemen along the road where we could find some pumps. They only blinked their eyes at “gas station”, but pointed exuberantly down the road after Mark rephrased our query as “petrol”. We passed the same two gentlemen after successfully getting gas and I was provided with a valuable lesson.
Most Arabs I encountered on this journey made eye contact without further acknowledgement…and that leaves a ‘hostile’ impression for me with my Western inclinations. I have compelled myself to reinforce that this action is not hostile, just a cultural nuance and my two Arabs confirmed the absence of antipathy. When they saw us again, the one gestured with a tentative thumbs up and an intense questioning expression. I replied with a ‘thumbs up’ and nodded vigorously. He broke into a broad, warm smile and triumphantly echoed my thumbs up!
We retrieved Samia who took the wheel as we trekked back to Dubai. Mark and I both nodded as Samia steered through giant dunes of red sand towards Hameem, where we hoped to have some lunch & see the “World’s largest 4WD”, which the concierge at Liwa told us was a local attraction. The vehicle was owned by Sheikh Hamad of Abu Dhabi and our instructions were simply to keep a watch out for a “large metal pyramid”.
Hameem struck out on both counts. No lunch spots and no metal pyramid in this wee enclave about 50 miles down the pike from Liwa. So we rolled on and after another 90 miles saw the pyramid! (so, is something 140 miles away a local attraction???) We pulled off and got escorted in to witness the beast. None of us doubted it was indeed, the world’s largest off road monster --- stunning and very amusing.
Underneath the World’s Largest 4WD, somewhere deep in Abu Dhabi…
There were several other amusements at the palace (you couldn’t see sheikh Hamad’s place as a huge fence encompassed his estate). An elderly gentleman escorting some camels told me a camel ride was 10 dhirams before we went into the pyramid and after we viewed the 4WD I handed Mark my camera and informed him I needed to accept the offer so I would have a picture of me on a camel for my daughter.
When we got back to where the camels were the old dude had been replaced by a younger guy. As we neared him Samia suddenly snapped some Urdu at him and after his Arabic reply she motioned me to sit on the camel --- she had just bargained for me to sit on the camel for no charge. Well heck, I was kinda looking forward to riding a camel but this was too amusing to contest!
Afterwards we made a beeline for Dubai as Mark and Samia had invited guests to their apartment for dinner. The only sad part was when we neared Abu Dhabi and the desert sand returned to its usual dirty white. The beautiful red sand and huge dunes had vanished, but there would be further wonders to contemplate…
Vance rides the wild camel --- no charge!
Back in Dubai, our first stop was Spinney’s, Mark & Samia’s preferred grocer. Per my chainsaw math, fruit & veggie prices in Dubai are more than comparable with the US. Coca Cola is extremely inexpensive: only one dhiram in all the vending machines, which is less than 30 cents US! Makes you wonder what their profit margins are…
Had to score a bottle of tabasco with half of the language on the bottle in Arabic, plus some dates rolled around almonds that Mark suggested as an excellent gift selection.
Mark also guided me to the secreted “pork” section, where all the haram products are on display. Haram is the Arabic term for ‘taboo’ or ‘forbidden’. One souvenir I did not score was a can of Mecca Cola…not just a fun name, but it actually says on the label “Do not mix with alcohol”. And of course, a friend of Mark’s purchases this beverage to intermingle with Captain Morgan’s to produce (drum roll, please) ----- a haram and coke. You may groan now…
When we entered the pork section (and it really was hidden away), we encountered two Muslim woman looking around…our arrival chased them away! I was floored by all of the things in this section, like pork rinds and even chips flavored with pork. What caused me some consternation was a jar of Paul Prudhomme’s pork seasoning --- albeit it was targeted at haram products, there wasn’t a whit of piggie involved?
Our last battle with Dubai traffic was won and we regained the apartment. Mark and Samia whipped up an excellent dinner and we all tidied up for the 7:30PM arrivals. First to arrive were Eric & Amanda (husband is the guy from Bellbrook and his wife is from Alabama). Shared our visit to the haram department at Spinney’s and Eric sagely pointed out it probably just made sense to park pork seasoning there, even if none of the ingredients were banned.
Eric is another architecture professor and his wife works in the college’s PR department. They were soon followed by Matt & Heather, who are both Canadian (Heather might have dual citizenship with the US…unsure what either of their roles are with the college). Much lively conversation ensued and we soon sat down to enjoy a yummy dinner of salad, pasta, roasted veggies and steak. A final guest, Chris, who has her degree in library science, arrived during the meal to complete our guest list.
Around 10PM we broke up into a separate cars for boys + girls (Matt & Samia both declined to venture out for evening festivities at Mark’s favorite “hooker bar”…the Sea View Hotel) and headed to Dubai. Traffic was nuttier than ever on a Thursday night (this would be like a Saturday night here) and we got viciously cut off several times. I was beyond astonished when we parked and the girls pulled in right behind us – how they managed to tail us through the nightmarish traffic boggles my mind.
We went into the hotel and alas, the “men’s room” entrance was blocked, although the girls were obvious veterans and began forging ahead until a bouncer blocked their way. Mark had already told me about this establishment, and one of its primary facets is that you could enter it through the men’s room from an adjacent night club in the hotel, girls included! We had to navigate numerous corridors to the back of the hotel where we entered the club through its official doorway.
What an experience. We pushed together a couple of tables in the smoky bar and parked stage right, next to the female bass player who was just incredible. The band was comprised of six Filipino’s – guitar, bass, drums, keyboard and two women in glitter suits who sang (beyond these two and the bassist, all males). It was 100% covers, most appearing to be requests written on napkins that were clumsily funneled to the keyboard player. Guitarist is also exceptionally talented and everything was played very tight (right down to the synchronized dances the girls did – different each song, but they were right in step with each other).
Ultimate performance was their rendering of the Queen classic “Bohemian Rhapsody” – I think the complexities of this tune would intimidate any band from adding it to their repertoire. The band pulled it off wonderfully and the crowd went nuts! Another highlight was the guitarist and bassist pulling the old switcheroo…and of course the woman was jaw-dropping on the axe, playing behind her head and laying down scorching leads. And after that she jumped behind the drums for a song, lest we consider even briefly that she was merely human!!! I was also impressed that one of the glitter gals picked up the bass during the drum stint (although she did look a bit uncomfortable).
So let us put the band aside and consider the crowd. Many Filipino’s on hand here as well, though primary constituency was white males -- largely Anglo’s (American, British, Aussie) and Slavic (Russian) – this mass was standing in front of the stage, intermingling with hookers who nearly matched them in number.
I found it rather sad, the whole hooker-client courtship. Seemed to consist mainly of dancing (only during breaks), and most of the girls struck me as terrible dancers. Majority were Oriental, and one in particular danced with three different guys, all of whom repeatedly spun her, with dizzying results (the guys were all overweight and inebriated, but executed their part of the spin quite well…the hooker, however, didn’t quite know the right moves and several times seemed ready to hit the floor). Mark and I got approached by a black woman when we left our tables to stand and get a clear view of the guitarist, but it only took a simple negative expression (i.e., shaking my head in my case) to keep her moving on.
It was great fun, highlighted by the manager stopping by (with one of many bouncers present) to pay his respects to Eric for bringing some ‘good girls’ into his club. After the second break the amazing bassist also stopped by to trade tattoo talk (she sported a wealth of tattoos) with Heather --- both had one of those wrap-around jobs on their biceps.
Then tragedy struck. All the girls at our table went out on the dance floor during break, and when they returned, Heather couldn’t locate her purse, which she had stowed beneath her chair. We immediately informed one of the bouncers. A surreptitious search began (I had no hope for recovery however…my guess is that the thief was long gone) with no results, and eventually we exited the club to visit the front desk of the hotel. Nobody seemed to have any idea what to do and Heather was distraught since her UAE Driver’s license, e-ticket (not certain what this is), original birth certificate and various other forms of ID were gone. Fortunately Mark had the same ATM and credit cards, so at least we had the phone numbers to get those discontinued, which Heather accomplished from the lobby.
Folks from the club occasionally dropped by to inform us of their latest efforts – I was struck both by how upset they appeared, as well as their incompetence at handling the situation (indicators to me that this was a rare occurrence). After over an hour in the lobby we finally asked for directions to the nearest police station. Mark, Heather & I departed for the cops and we dispatched the balance of our crew home.
A short drive later we entered a Dubai Police Station and explained our plight to the two officers at the front desk. They gestured us to proceed down a hallway and wait to meet with the Duty Officer. We parked on a plush sofa outside his door, where animated discussions in Arabic were emanating and two men in dishdasha’s stood around looking very sheepish.
Eventually Heather got summoned in. After still another long wait, she eventually emerged to inform us she needed to return Saturday with her passport to begin the process of replacing her UAE documents….sounds like it will take four months to accomplish! Worse yet, she was advised to report that the documents were “lost” and not “stolen” --- the latter route would likely add six months to the process without any benefits! And with that our tour of a Dubai Police Station concluded and the glum trio returned home, arriving at Mark’s apartment at 4AM (Heather lives in an apartment nearby).
As sad as this tale was, I am obliged that it allows me to ask folks if they would like to hear about the time I visited a hooker bar in Dubai and ended the night in a police station…
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