Driving insane
Idea: go down to Bur Dubai souq and buy some Iraqi banknotes from a souvenir shop, fly to New York, attempt to use them to buy a "cwahfee"...
My first solo flight down Sheikh Zayed road took place this morning, appropriately from Dubai Airport. All the way to Media City - and beginner's luck, not a single taxi horn or mad dish dash disturbance. Then again it was before 7am.
Time Out January was most disappointing - the cover promised an expose of Emirati obesity. Expecting delicious photos of fat sheiklets gorging on McCrap, I handed over 10 dirhams. Only to discover a turgid screed of health advice with the odd WHO statistic.
Yet again they're trying to step up the emiratisation of the workforce. Griping about the numbers of subcontinental expat workers - 1.2 million Indians and several hundred thousand Pakistanis, out of a total 3 million population - holding amnesties for "illegals" and overstayers, yet not a mention of any happy troupe of locals willing to labour for 400 dirhams a month in 50c heat.
When McDonalds staff wear McBurqas, and taxi drivers start speaking Gulf Arabic rather than Pashtun, the expats can start to tremble. For now, it will just mean more spurious CEO-ships created to absorb all the college drop-out sons of sheikhs' favourite falconers.
It has just turned midnight: so Happy 2003.
My first solo flight down Sheikh Zayed road took place this morning, appropriately from Dubai Airport. All the way to Media City - and beginner's luck, not a single taxi horn or mad dish dash disturbance. Then again it was before 7am.
Time Out January was most disappointing - the cover promised an expose of Emirati obesity. Expecting delicious photos of fat sheiklets gorging on McCrap, I handed over 10 dirhams. Only to discover a turgid screed of health advice with the odd WHO statistic.
Yet again they're trying to step up the emiratisation of the workforce. Griping about the numbers of subcontinental expat workers - 1.2 million Indians and several hundred thousand Pakistanis, out of a total 3 million population - holding amnesties for "illegals" and overstayers, yet not a mention of any happy troupe of locals willing to labour for 400 dirhams a month in 50c heat.
When McDonalds staff wear McBurqas, and taxi drivers start speaking Gulf Arabic rather than Pashtun, the expats can start to tremble. For now, it will just mean more spurious CEO-ships created to absorb all the college drop-out sons of sheikhs' favourite falconers.
It has just turned midnight: so Happy 2003.
Labels: driving, emiratisation, labourers, szr
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