Sunday, August 26, 2012

System of a Down... or Up in this Case



I used to love that band. But that’s not what this post is about. I want to talk about systems here in Abu Dhabi. So awesomely different. When you go to the bank, for example, they have the take a number queueing system, right? You take a number, and then you wait for them to ring your number. Makes sense enough. So you sit maybe, or stand while you wait. But then 2 seconds after you’ve grabbed your number and sit next to the massive group of people who are also waiting, a bank employee comes out of nowhere, makes eye contact, smiles at you and gestures you over to his desk. You look around to first see if he’s looking at you or if it’s the person behind you he’s motioning to…no, it’s you indeed. Then you look around to see if anyone going to give you the stank eye because you just inadvertently jumped the queue of all these people. “Yes mam, come on over. How can I help you?” So what if you just walked in the door 18 seconds ago and there’s a massive queue in front of you. Come on over. ??????? Huh? It’s so random.


At the Dubai souks, (markets) you weave in and out of these miniscule, heat filled shops with plastic hanging sheets for doors and pretend air-conditioning. Now when I say miniscule, whatever you’re picturing, think smaller. My bathroom at the hotel is bigger. The shop owners are kind of pushy, but also flirty, but also rude, but also seducing…. So basically, I think they flirt you into buying something. The heat exhaustion, the sweaty smell of sun-baked bodies, fried lunch, and incense permeates your sesnses, and the low murmur of the pretend AC unit work together against your decision making processes. Before you know it, you've bought two genuine fake Chanel watches that you convinced yourself your mother might love. You might get something nice, you might get garbage, but you won’t fully be ready or able to decide which until you’ve gotten back into air-conditioning. I try to use my broken down, sub-par, never used or needed before American haggling skills… No dice. They’ve spotted my real Gucci sunglasses and hand sanitizing gel, and they know in an instant that I'm an American and I have zero haggling skills what-so-ever and that I like to part with my money. So not only do I purchase one scarf at what I’m sure was way too many dirham, but I somehow got hoodwinked into buying another random item that I’ll never use…. It’s the heat. But lo! Two seconds later, your friend buys the EXACT same item at 5 dirham cheaper! “What happened?” I ask the Iranian man behind the counter in a half protest as sweat weighs my eyelids downwards. No comment. Arrrgh.


I grab a taxi after lunch to go home. I tell the driver my destination. He doesn’t speak and barely acknowledges that I breathe air. He drives like a bat out of hell and talks on his cell phone the entire way. He takes two wrong turns and racks up my fare. Not to mention he smells like a goat on a farm. A farm with no water. Or soap. Or deodorant. We finally scrape into my hotel on two wheels, and I pay him the fare on the meter. He keeps his hand held out and looks into my eyes indignantly, wondering where his tip is. Seriously?

Later on, I drop my clothes off at the dry cleaners where they will dry clean them at the same price as they will launder them.  They deliver them to my hotel door the next morning with a smile. I offer this guy a tip, and he shakes his head and refuses…… Why can’t I get it right?? I’ve only been here for two weeks…So, hold on to your yellow teeth, more madness ahead. 

The guy on the left thought he was too cool for school and refused to smile. Everytime the flash went off and the picture was taken, he cracked up laughing. Really dude?












No comments:

Post a Comment