There's nothing like a night in Dubai to bring up the juicy questions

Caption: Hey Donald, how you like that tower and those hands?

I seriously doubt I'll post this frequently once I get into the swing of my trip and I hope my future posts are less verbose but apparently at 35,000 feet I’m a typing machine. It’s almost like this is my day job. Oh wait... I’m now on a plane over Nagpur, India flying from Dubai to Phnom Penh by way of Yangon. Unlike my flight from Seattle which was packed to the gills, this plane is not more than one-fifth full. Seems like an ideal time to jot out my impressions of the dynamic city of Dubai based on my 14 hour visit. My impressions are purely my own as I talked to no locals about matters of substance, but, like trips I’ve made to Las Vegas or Phoenix they lead me to ponder whether it’s really a good idea to create a booming metropolis in the middle of the desert. If these things interest you than read on.

I arrived in Dubai’s Air Palace slash Mall around 7:30 pm local time. By the time I got through immigration and checked into and left the hotel motel Holiday Inn (Express) for the Metro it was about 9. Like Las Vegas at this time of night, it was actually comfortable outside. My destination was the Dubai Mall and Burj Khalifa, the world’s tallest building.

As I got closer to the city, my empty Metro car began to fill. Much like in the airport I noticed that people that appeared to be from all over the world. As an American I have always thought New York or maybe London was the most global city in the world but now I’m not so sure sure. Folks were holding bags bearing familiar brands, including Hollister, bro. Everything was clean and I felt completely safe (though I wonder if part of that is due the fact that I’m a taller than average white guy). By the time I got to the Dubai Mall metro stop it was clear that 10 pm in Dubai was very different from 10 pm in most American, or even European cities. People of all ages were out in force and no one seemed inebriated.

From the Metro station I followed signs through a maze of climate controlled sky bridges and moving walkways to the Mall where I was greeted by all familiar trappings of late stage capitalism, but with Middle Eastern flair. I saw women in full hijab walking out of Zara, H&M, and Bath & Body Works and men in thawbs, the traditional white robes of the Arabian Peninsula, checking out the iPhone X or enjoying a late night coffee at Costa. I followed signs to the Burj which directed me towards Fashion Avenue home to Armani, Burberry, and store that only sold pleated clothes with a name that may or may not have been PleatsRUs.

After getting thoroughly disoriented (I dislike malls not only because of the blatant consumerism, they also fuck with my otherwise impeccable sense of direction) I asked around for the entrance to the Burj. Paying way too much money, I got what was probably the last spot on the last the elevator for the day to the observation deck.

As one would expect, Burj Khalifa is the type of building that provokes the envy and admiration of our Fearful Leader, maybe even worthy a comment comparing the size of his hands to those of the President of the United Arab Emirates. It’s so tall in fact that the observation deck, on the 148th floor is only about three quarters of the way up the building. Shepherding us through a series of exhibits, our guide and the interactive elevator made sure we all understood exactly how impressive this building is. Photos from the groundbreaking in 2004 showed that the area, now completely urbanized, was until quite recently a barren desert in a way that makes Portland’s building boom look quaint. Adjusted for inflation, it cost roughly as much to build the Burj as Congress authorized in this year’s budget for Trump’s whatever you want to call it structure along the US-Mexican border. Much like the border structure, they didn’t mention the people who actually built it, though I assume it was mostly migrant workers.

The view from the observation deck was top notch. In every direction I saw a booming city. Construction for days, man made water features, land being created in the Arabian Sea, and a freeway system that brought to mind images of Southern California. I snapped some photos like this one. On the elevator ride down we were treated to a quote from one of the UAE’s political leaders talking about how the Burj was a symbol of pride for the Middle East, a counterpoint to the region’s violence and dysfunction we hear so much about in the media. I may choose to blame it on being on plane for 14 hours straight but line that made me slightly verklempt.

On the Metro ride back to the hotel motel Holiday Inn (Express) and again as my plane took off this morning and I looked out at the land being created below me (pictured) I found myself pondering the paradox of Dubai.

It’s clearly a playground for the global elite. At the same time, it genuinely does seem to be exactly what this UAE leader stated - proof that peace and prosperity can exist in the conflict ridden Middle East. It’s a place where people from all over the world come seeking greater economic success, like the United States for much of its history (and like the US, it sounds like there can be pretty shitty conditions for these migrants).

However, My background in sustainability makes me question whether Dubai is the optimal place for all this. Like Vegas or Phoenix the city only exists thanks to the wonders air conditioning. Sea fill wreaks havoc on marine life and unless it’s desalinated I have no idea where all the water I saw comes from. Tragically I didn’t see a single solar panel which leads me to believe that the city is powered by cheap hydrocarbons. With all the money on display in Dubai it seems to me the ideal place to test out low impact development and renewable energy technologies.

On the other hand, do I really have a right to get on a soapbox about carbon emissions? While I take comfort knowing that my footprint is smaller than the Donald’s, the flights I’ve taken over the past 48 hours, let alone all the others I’ll board this year make me responsible way more than my “budget” of carbon emissions. Who knew that a quick excursion on a layover could trigger these kinds of thoughts. But these are the questions my weary, jet lagged brain are pondering now that I’ve finally made it to my room in Phnom Penh.

Do any of you have thoughts or insights to share if you made it this far?