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Published: August 8th 2007
Camel Riding
The hard part is when that tall animal gets up, and you have to make sure you don't fall off onto his neck!Early in the morning, Lee gets me up because the Shakira in Dubai concert is on TV. I’m a huge fan and have gone to two of her concerts, but the Oral Fixation tour is the newest and I was not able to go last time (I was on my sub-internship at the time and was working hard to impress). I love watching her and singing along to her Spanish songs, and of course, I always love her belly dancing. I took up belly dancing after my first Shakira concert, but with classes and rotations, I could not keep it up. It was fun though. I’d like to do it again. Shakira’s moves would prove to be a prelude for the belly dancing we would see later. I had to work on my research again, so while I typed away, Lee got ready for his morning at the Jumeirah Mosque, the only mosque in Dubai where non-Muslims are allowed to enter. It has been set up as a cultural center to promote understanding, and Westerners are simply asked to wear appropriate dress (cover shoulders, arms, and legs along with the usual torso). Women must wear headscarves.
I had planned my outfit for days, but had not found a headscarf (nor would I know how to wear it), but it didn’t matter as I wouldn’t be able to go due to work. This, of course, made me feel like I was missing out on something I could really learn from, but I had no other option. The tours are run only four or so times a week at 10am. Lee left a little after 9am, and though the Jumeirah Mosque is only 10 minutes away, he returned at 9:50am frustrated.
It’s impossible. Not a single taxi cab was to be found or would stop for him. It being morning on Thursday, the first day of the weekend here, we would have expected that cabs would be around. There were few of them, and the ones that did pass by empty did not stop for him. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be. So I worked and Lee practiced French.
An Amazing Desert Safari Everyone who comes to Dubai does the desert safari. The same one. I don’t know if you can come to the city and not do it. It’s worth it to shop around
Showoff
The males have the plumage. for prices because everyone gets the same experience. The guide came to pick us up at 4pm, and by the looks of the Land Cruiser, I didn’t think we’d be going 4x4ing on the sand dunes. I had read about this part of the desert safari, but as it was not mentioned in our brochure, I figured it’s just as well that we not do it. Although 99% of people posting on TripAdvisor loved the 4x4 excursion, one guy demolished it as a nauseating ride through hell. Considering how motion sick I get, I was kinda glad we’d escape that part of the safari. There was a very quiet Asian man in the very back seat of the Land Cruiser, and after we picked up a couple more guys, we were on our way. There was some confusing seat changing - I was in the middle, Lee was on the left, then the new guy opened the door on the left side and we all had to scoot to the right. I usually take the middle seat because I’m smaller, and now Lee was all cramped up in the middle. It wasn’t until later that he explained to me (and
The Dunes
Where's Sting? I don’t know if this is really what happened) that the driver probably did not want the other men in the Cruiser sitting directly next to me. Really? This, of course, made me feel a bit invisible, so I didn’t make much effort to talk to the new guys who were Pakistani by descent but sounded British.
”What the flip was Grandma doin’ at the Dunes!“ Our first stop was the imperial palace driveway where there are free-roaming peacocks who like to fan out all their feathers and then turn around so you can only get a view of their backside and the drab brown edges of their tail. Lovely. One of them was kind enough to look at us directly so that we could get a great picture. The exhibitionist male peacocks gave us a splendid display while the smaller, brown female tended to the “babies,” as our driver called them. We were not allowed to take pictures of the palace, so we made a U-turn and went on our way, passing the gated palace ground with its white wild deer roaming within the perimeter. The next part of the trip to the desert is unknown as both
The Dunes
Hate to be lost in this. of us were asleep. When I awoke, we were pulling into a human filling station - that is, it was a little outpost at the edge of the desert where people could use the bathroom, get drinks and snacks, and buy souvenirs. Our Cruiser being filled with young men (and me), we didn’t stay very long. Within three minutes our driver said “Seatbelt! Seatbelt!” and we drove straight into the sand dunes… for a 4x4 excursion. Like I said, everyone gets the same tour, so don’t pay more than 140 dirhams. And off we went, riding full throttle up sand dunes, jumping with all four wheels stopped in rotation as we toppled over crests of sand, surfing sideways down the edge of a dune with sand hitting our windows, and doing pretty much anything to try to roll our vehicle over. I have to say, these drivers are well-trained. Except for one time when our driver stalled the vehicle and had to go in reverse up a dune in order to gain momentum on the descent and ride up the next dune, there was nary a moment that I thought we were in danger. Once I squealed a couple of
Desert Safari
The SUV in front of us gives us a preview of what's to come. times after leaving my stomach 10 meters behind and 2 meters above our current location, I got used to it and just held on tight. I certainly did better than the lady in the other car who had to get out and vomit in the sand. Our caravan consisted of three Land Cruisers, a great number. I would have hated to be a part of the caravan of 10 SUVs, all filled with middle-aged Asians (didn’t have enough time to figure out which East Asian, but maybe Japanese of Korean). There’s no way their driver was going to be as gutsy as ours. Since our Cruiser was usually the middle in our pack, we could see what the truck in front of us did and know we were next. After jumping a dune, our driver would turn the truck around so we could watch the third Cruiser jump it after us. Since we couldn’t’ see our own vehicle, these views were awesome.
Midway through our nauseating adventure, we stopped in the middle of the desert (the kind of middle where if our drivers had left us for dead, there is no way in God’s heaven that we would have
Desert Safari
Rolling down dunes sideways. known which way to go or would have had the energy and water reserves to survive). They took out a snowboard which, I guess, was actually a sandboard. Leroy was up first, and he went down the dune without falling. Aces! I got it all on video. Then a bunch of guys went, including one of our Pakistani-British companions who went down one meter than tumbled off the board, did a somersault, and landed on his arse with sand all over him. Hmmm, I don’t think I want to do that. I was the only girl who sandskied. As uncoordinated as I am, I was already nervous, but being the only girl made it even worse. No worries, I’m not missing out on this. I mean, Lee is a natural athlete, but he’s never skied or snowboarded. So, having done each of those sports exactly once, I should stand at least a fighting change of making it down the dune without falling, right? The hardest part should be climbing back up the dune! I convince the man to let me go down the dune with my left side first as that is how I snowboard (you know, from that one
Desert Safari
The horizon is off because our SUV is off. time I did it in 1997). I get half a meter down, feel the board get stuck, and jump off of it. Chicken! They tell me I can do it again, so I do, right side first this time, with the man yelling (as he did for everyone), “Keep balanced! Keep balanced!” Thank for the advice, friend, but we know that already, it’s just not all of us can do it, you know? Well, I make it down to the very bottom of the dune screaming “Mamacita” the whole time. I don’t know why, it just makes me feel better. The ugly trudge back up the dune was much worse than going down, trust. How do nomads walk on this? Quads hurt. Lee wants an action photo, so he gets back on the board. I get a shot of him starting his run, and then yell out, “Don’t fall, I need this shot!” Of course… he falls, butt first. I press the camera button, but with the delay, he is on his backside when the shot is taken. So, no action shot, but Lee is convinced he broke his coccyx (to be pronounced “kahk-iks” for you Napoleon Dynamite fans). More
Desert Safari
Like sands through the hourglass... photos later, we jump back in the Cruiser for more 4x4 action. Being in the desert was amazing. Cali deserts have nothing on this. Miles and miles, I mean, kilometers and kilometers of fine red sand, endless dunes, a blistering sun, and a hot wind that blows mists of sand across the dune surface. There is sand everywhere - in my shoes, my clothes, my hair, my mouth. I eat sand all the way to our next stop.
Give me an ostrich burger and I’ll eat it We continue our 4x4 adventure and then make it back to the highway edge and drive toward a money-making camp. At this stop, they give you time to rent RVs (15 minutes for 15 AED, or about U$4), hold a falcon (10 AED), or ride a camel. When we park, there is a big ostrich walking around. I get out of the Cruiser quickly so I can snap a picture of it, but when I get to the entrance, I can’t find it. I look behind me, and goodness, what do I see but a giant ostrich running straight toward me with that evil, scary “I’m an ostrich, I’m crazy, I could
turn on you at any moment, peck at you, then stick my neck in the sand” look. Ostriches frighten me, they really do. That insane look in the eyes and the open mouth is just too much, and seeing it run toward me hikes up my adrenaline and my first defensive move is to… well, it’s to run toward the man and his children nearby and literally stick myself into his family circle and smile. Sheepishly. The man, with toddler in his arms, laughs and says, “What is wrong? Are you scared?” I smile and say, “Yes” and point to the ostrich. It’s all in good fun, and the ostrich is already on its way inside the park. Don’t leave me in nature. I grew up in the city, and I have no instincts. We spend our time in the park with Lee holding a falcon and me feeding a camel (although I had to wait until my second turn because a little girl bullied me and the camel). I make sure to keep an eye on the two crazy-looking ostriches roaming free as they are wont to sneak up on you. We skip the camel rides knowing the camp
will provide them to us for free. The sun is low in the horizon, and I’m worried (and rightly so) that we will miss out on a sunset opportunity. We pile into the Cruiser and by the time we hit the desert camp, the sun is hiding behind the dunes.
An Evening in the Desert Getting to the camp before most of the other caravans is a bonus. This is a tourist stop set up as a Bedouin camp. Outside the entrance, there are three camels that you can get on and ride for about three minute (really, that’s all we need, like with the elephants in Thailand). Once inside, a Filipino man is busy frying falafel, which you can then pick up with some tahini and munch on before the buffet dinner. Next to him, a couple of young men proffer Arabic tea and coffee, with a cardamom flavor making it unique. The shisha station is not up and running yet, or so we thought. Our guide tells me to go get a henna tattoo done while the girl is free, and I cross the camp to do so. I get a beautiful traditional pattern on my right
Eating Sand
The wind wouldn't let up long enough for Leroy to open his eyes for the shot. Hence the subsequent death of my camera a few days later. arm, even though I would have preferred to get the more traditional henna tattoo on the hands. It’s alright, though, as the henna didn’t take. Maybe she used a weak dye, maybe I’ve been slathering too much sunblock on, but my arm basically has a faint stain on it by the end of the night. The British lady behind me in line is getting it done on her back. She and her family were sitting next to us at dinner, and they were quite nice. After henna, Lee and I staked out our table then went to try smoking shisha, which is tobacco plus something else, usually mint. It turns out that the place is self-serve, so we have to set up our hookah all by our lonesome. Thankfully, two men are there to tell us what to do. First, grab the hookah, put the metal plate with a hole in it through the top so that it can catch ash. Then put the pre-prepared containers with tobacco on top. The flat top is covered with foil, and that’s where you put the hot coal, which we have to grab from a metal oven with tongs. Then, all that’s left
The Ride
The LC was actually ok, but I guess he wanted it to cool off a little? In that heat? is to hook up the tube, and take a deep breath through the mouthpiece. When I try it, the men tell me I look all stressed out and that shisha smoking is for relaxing. I exhale, relax, and take another drag, but they all decide I have weak lungs. I’ll take it as a compliment that I’m not good at inhaling smoke - especially since the man across from us tells us that they say that one inhalation of shisha is like smoking 100 cigarettes. Yeah, try to count those pack-years. After shisha, we try on the traditional garb for men and women. Yes, I put on a burqa. I wanted to know what they were like. Lee put on the white robe, red/white headdress and the black band that keeps the headdress in place. He looked like a sheikh. I didn’t know how to put my headscarf on correctly, so a photographer came to my aid. With only my eye and a small swathe of skin visible, the burqa certainly covers you in mystery. I don’t think I could spend all day in it, much less my whole life, but there is a certain liberty that comes with being
Sand Surfing
Starting his 2nd run. covered up like that. Is that ironic? I do not want to get political on this blog, so that is all I will say about how I felt in the burqa.
Habibi Habibi, shake that belly! Dinner was fantastic - the buffet had Indian food and a grill with four different kinds of meat (lamb, chicken, beef, camel). I don’t know which one was camel, but it’s probably the one I didn’t like. Tabouli, hummus, naan, rice, Arabic salad, that Indian green pea dish, and many more. Having feasted on butter chicken at Candle Light restaurant (across from our Dar al Sondos hotel) for lunch, I did not have much room for a smorgasbord like this. As we ate, a professional belly dancer named Julia (who turned out to be Russian) came to entertain us. All evening long, a Pinoy expat had been chatting with me every now and then, all in very fast Tagalog. I don’t know how many times I said, “Huh?” I would have preferred not to have understood any of it, since he spent most of the time telling me he thought the belly dancer was sexy and asking me where my husband was from.
Eating Sand Part 2
Oops, I missed the action shot! The funniest thing he did say, when the belly dancer was amazing us with a fast routine that required her to move each one of her core and abdominal muscles in isolation to the beat, was “Papagod ka rin” (You will get tired). It was a bit of a taunting tone, which was amusing. Julia brought up a gringo from each corner so he could try imitating her and give us all a good laugh. Then he got about eight women, including me, and made us form a circle and try to imitate her. We all did a terrible job, of course, but as only the Westerners agreed to get on stage, it gave everyone a good laugh. Amazing how every single woman who was dressed either in traditional Indian grab or a burqa did not accept the belly dancer’s offer. Does that mean we were really making fools of ourselves? Probably.
The best footballer in the world After the dancing, people got up and booked out. Really, it was like, okay let’s all go home. It was nearing 10pm, so it’s no surprise. The whole experience was quite touristy, which I tried to avoid as a backpacker, but
4x4
WOOOOHOOOOOOO! I don’t see when I’ll ever be invited to a Bedouin camp or desert home to have this kind of experience. As much as independent travelers try to take the road less traveled, one cannot really have immersion experiences without spending months or years in a place. And so, thank you Dubai for setting up such a comprehensive desert experience. The silent Asian guy in our Cruiser had been sitting at our table with us, but apart from saying “Good!” when I hounded him as to how the food was, he had not spoken to any of us. He didn’t speak English, so we forgive him. Seemed lonely though. Especially since on the way back to Dubai city, we were engaged in lively conversation with the two Pakistani-Brits from Manchester. Topics ranged from the round-the-world trip (“We’re sitting next to a millionaire.
No! It’s frequent flyer miles”) to English football (“No one in Manchester is a United fan, they all live in London”). With Leroy citing Thierry Henry as his favorite football player, the lawyer being a Liverpool fan, and his friend rooting for ManU, the British theme was dominating the conversation just as it’s dominating the UEFA Champions League.
Some animals are too scary.
Imagine one of these running straight for you with that weird look in the eye. Much of the conversation was devoted to David Beckham and his move to the LA Galaxy, and on whether or not the Ronaldinho video with the crossbar tricks is real. Okay, if you’re not a soccer fan or were not exposed to us during the World Cup in 2006, you won’t know what I’m talking about, but we had a great time. As they all expounded on the wonder that is Thierry Henry or Cristiano Ronaldo… I secretly said to myself that Ronaldinho is the best footballer in the world and he’ll get this World Cup monkey off his back soon. The saddest part of our conversation was when we talked about travels all around the world and they mentioned how much they’d love to visit America. In fact, instead of this trip to Pakistan and Dubai, they had considered going to New York, particularly to stock up on suits because the pound is so strong. I asked why they didn’t, and they said that as UK-based Muslims, going to the U.S. was just impossible right now. They would be stopped and interrogated, even worse than they were in Pakistan, and “may not make it back.” Who knows what would
Some animals are too scary.
Starting his career in falconry. happen, as I’m sure there are many Muslims who are able to visit the U.S. The point is that, as much as we are afraid or hesitant to go to certain places in the world because we have U.S. passports, so are they reluctant to visit the U.S. Their dreams to see and experience Hawaii and New York will have to wait for a different world.
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