Wide-eyed in Dubai

Dubai is big. Mind-bogglingly big, to steal the phrase from Douglas Adams. You might have taken a selfie by the Sears Tower or tried jumping higher than your friend at Taipei 101 to see who was higher up until she said that it was time for mango ice cream, but that’s all peanuts compared to the Burj Khalifa. To make sure there’s no confusion, on the elevator up they show a video of you whooshing past Taipei 101, the Eiffel Tower, and all the other follies of man. If you paid for the premium package, which I did, you then get out, switch elevators, and go up further. There is a moment of awe when the guide announced that she would escort us premium-oisie up to the 148th floor.

You might ask me — Nick, what happened to you being a minimalist or a frugal nomad? Well first, I had no idea that I was signing up for the premium package. The desk guy said this price to go now, this price to wait a few hours, I did the exchange rate math (incorrectly, by a long shot) and didn’t question it until I was rushed into an air-conditioned lounge and someone was pouring an Arabian coffee. My bank had done the math and thoughtfully e-mailed me their figure with a note about “A transaction exceeded your Alert limit.”
I generally don’t drink coffee, but I generally don’t gravely offend people either, so I sipped, read my e-mail, and waited for the other bigshots.

Part of the reason that I botched the exchange rate was my sun-addled brain. Earlier in the day, I had the dumb idea to exit the Dubai Mall airlock, walk over to the building, and stroll into the lobby. It was 108 degrees and I could feel the hot air over my eyeballs, like a blanket. The water promenade is left bare of trees, optimizing visibility over protection. I looked back to see the only other spacewalkers, the selfie-takers, clustered by entrances to the mall and what other cities would consider ‘skyscrapers’. As I might have mentioned, the Burj Khalifa is the tallest building in the world ever built, and these are not.

this is the aquamarine pool that you see in the earlier photos

I was clearly not in the right place, yet persisted until I reached the sweeping road up to the Burj. From a long distance, I made eye contact with the only other person, a man in a traffic control vest. I decided to head for his walkway, say hello, and pass by casually, like old friends. When I approached, he showed a badge and asked if I was headed to the residence or the hotel. I explained my interest in taking photos from the top with my most earnest words and feels. He stared back in incredulity. Of course the correct route was a tunnel from the mall, and of course the only way back was to return on the path that I’d come. These tunnels and walkways are a key part of Dubai — the moving walkway from the metro stop to the Dubai Mall being longer than any I’ve seen at an airport.
The guard and I exchanged pleasantries. He’s from Kenya. When I shared that I was from New York, he thanked me profusely. He encouraged me to continue traveling and become a pilot someday, and I nodded in agreement.

there were always as many staff as kids in the ball pit

As I re-entered the mall, circling a massive ball pit that ruined any childhood birthday party memories that I might have enjoyed, the asr call to prayer sounded in the mall. I gave myself a moment.

Everyone kept moving, the mix of the foreign and familiar continued, and I found myself on the long moving sidewalk back home.

gold and camels are a common motif in mall stores

I’m here taking an Arabic class and would appreciate your comments and suggestions!