Dear Dubai

Dear Dubai,


You might have heard people talking. And I am telling you now: Yes, it is true. I am leaving you! And please believe me, it is not you, it is me! Also, it has nothing to do with the things I heard about you recently.

I was contemplating a lot yet have at last taken the decision that I am not the right person to live with you. More than two years in the desert are a long time for somebody who loves trees, meadows and flowers (and the smell of them all) as much as walking, riding a bike and drinking Cappuccino in an open air café in the pedestrian zone.

So, I have (almost) packed my bags, done the paper work and booked my flight back to Europe right on time to spend Christmas with the family. The new year will bring new challenges and since I do believe one should speak the language of the country one lives in (something I have truly regretted here), I have booked a Spanish course in Spain where I will spend the next couple of months enjoying a break from work and preparing for my next, independent, job. Something is drawing me there, I do not yet know what it is, yet I have to go.

Still, the last two years have been like an adventure trip which I will never forget. Only few things worked as planned, many situations made me very emotional (not only in a good way), and the priorities have shifted extremely and constantly. I will take with me the experience that everything is possible (in both directions), a lot of sand in my shoes as well as dust in my lungs and two handful of empty batteries and printer cartridges for recycling in Germany.

Bureaucracy has still not become a friend of mine nor have ever-growing traffic, road constructions, noise, heat and humidity. It will be interesting to see if I can sleep at night without the constant noise of the generator below my window, the slamming doors of my neighbours or the flush of their toilets, the „bing“ of the elevators and the traffic noise from Sheikh Zayed Road which I only heard when the construction workers stopped hammering.

I ask myself, will I be missing all those people who helped me avoiding any physical movement that could have been too much? The most important ones were the girls that did my manicure and pedicure. They have become family somehow and know more about me than the hairdresser (mainly because I never found a suitable one here). Just as important were the Spa therapists that gave me regular bliss. I also think of the people that packed my bags in the supermarket and even carried them to my car (they even got used to my environmentally friendly bags that I brought with me). Then there were the guys that filled my car with petrol and offered to clean the car window which I always declined since I had a daily car cleaning service in my home car park. These guys, by the way, had a properly working accounting and customer service system without computers - amazing. My flat was cleaned by another person every week - spotlessly despite the limited equipment I offered.

Will I miss the taxi drivers that regularly ignored me on Thursday evenings or around 6 pm in general when they finished their shift? Or will I miss the same drivers that blew their horn at me on Fridays as a “friendly“ offer for a ride when I had decided to walk a little bit for a change?

Speaking of walking, I more than once escaped a serious accident when I crossed the road to walk to The Greens where some cafés and a supermarket were my regular spots to go. Even when I used the pedestrian crossings, people in cars did not seem to see me, not to mention to notice me. This was very scary very often, especially when I carried some heavy shopping bags and could not run as fast as the drivers would expect me to. This, in turn, made them blow their horn just as the taxi drivers.

There is only one species more extreme than the car drivers, and these are the bus drivers that overtake you on Sheikh Zayed Road with a full and ancient bus while you are driving 110! Still, I do not want to forget the drivers that let me pass, cut into their lane or that stopped for me to let me cross the street. Thank you for being so unselfish, you stood out of the crowd.

Not to be forgotten are all those people working in Dubai‘s call centres and shops. I have gone through both funny and frustrating episodes that inspired me to start my blog. So, somehow I have to thank you, people.

Yet again, I have met the exceptions as well: shop assistants or managers that went out of their way to treat me as what I was: a client, the reason for them to be there. Unfortunately, people do not talk enough about you, the good ones, you are taken for granted. So, on behalf of all of you I name the Apple specialist at a shop in Burjuman who installed and tested the mouse I bought on a Mac right there in the shop. To let you know: it works perfectly. Thank you!

It is also time to thank all those un-named people who have built this city. Many of you have not seen their families for years. You might have become friends with your room mates or the guy who sits next to you in the bus. Yet, I am sure that you do miss your home and your loved ones and the only thing you can give them is the money you send every month. Thank you and all the other assiduous people who are there to ensure that people like me have all they need and more – away from home.

All those hard working people will not be part of my live anymore, and I will have to handle most things on my own. This is, if I can afford a car or a flat at all. The positive thing about this is that I will have to move more. I will have to walk (at least to the metro station), I will have to bring back the shopping cart and clean my place myself. And all this and other things will have one consequence: I will lose the “Dubai Stone“ that has become my constant company and seemed to have liked the middle of my body specifically.

Apart from this heavy thing, I am leaving other things with you, dear Dubai: Numerous loyalty cards of which I only made use of a few, a NOL card for the metro with still a couple of dirhams value, hundreds of used plastic bottles that I did not know how to recycle, my mobile phone number with at least 500 different companies, and my personal mark, hopefully not only in the sand but also with the amazing people I have met.

These people have influenced how I felt and made me move on every day. I have worked in the most beautiful environment ever with such a multicultural team that made travelling around the world almost useless. Lunch breaks were spent with people from India, Switzerland, Philippines, Iran, Germany, Malaysia, France, Bangladesh, Wales, Australia, Kenya, Syria, China, Austria, Egypt, Sri Lanka, Jordan, Indonesia, Pakistan to name but a few. We shared childhood memories, talked about spiritual experiences, discussed political opinions, compared religious customs and taught each other cultural and historical backgrounds from our countries. And we found out, despite some heated conversations, that we are not that different from each other. On the contrary: we all want to live in a peaceful world that offers our families and ourselves and the generations to come a healthy environment in which to live means happiness, freedom and respect for each other.

I feel very happy to got the chance to meet the other face of Dubai as well. People that make a difference by helping others, dedicating their time for good causes and living their dreams. There was one date that helped me realising how many of those people live in Dubai: 10/10/09 - the day I attended a life changing conference. Five days later, I resigned from my job and started living my own dream. Thank you to everybody who since then has enriched my days with e-mails, tweets, invitations to great events, discussions, conversations and especially encouragement. It is partly your fault that I am going and still - I so wish I had met you earlier....

Dear Dubai, thank you very much for hosting and entertaining me in the last two years and for letting me be part of your history. I wish you the best of luck and ongoing excitement for yet many years to come. Please do let me come back if I feel like visiting you. This is my wish, and now I finish.

Yours,

Gaby

PS: I do not enjoy farewells very much, yet only with a farewell, something new can begin. And new things, well, I enjoy a lot.