Monthly Archives: February 2009

Wow, what workers

I wish I had earlier taken a picture of the scene across the road. It was a vacant lot, with a base of sand – like anywhere in Dubai where there’s nothing built, or planted and given a whole lot of water.  When the shops are open, it doubled as a car park.  And then it would be fenced off at other times, and people would walk through or stand in there for a chat.  Actually, it wasn’t quite a vacant lot.  It also had a single large tree – left there for the shade I imagine.

The other night when I was walking home, despite the near darkness, the lot was quite different. Instead of seeing the light colour of sand, there was clearly a layer of something that resembled oil roughly splashed all over. I stood out the front of the complex with our security guard hypothesizing what they could be doing. We both reached the conclusion that they were probably improving the car park.

The next morning when I woke-up just as the sun was rising at 5am, there was no doubt about it. 75% of the plot was covered in bitumen. There were about 6 or 7 men rushing around in the near dark.  They had a “Bessie” (for those familiar with the animated movie ‘Cars’ featuring Lightning Macqueen’); and four or five trucks waiting in the park with bitumen in their trailers. It was absolutely amazing.  By lunch time the entire car park was completed, with lines marked and fence posts cemented in.

You see a lot of  this in Dubai. The Sheik has had such amazing and grand plans, that there really is a furious pace from everyone to get it done in time. Some industries, more obviously than others. Construction work is primarily resourced from expat Indians. I’d really not like to be working in their conditions. You see whole mini-buses filled to the brim with the workers who pile out at the work site, to be replaced by the next shift so a lot of the sites are effectively working 24 hours a day. Mind you, I think that only requires two shifts in most places. Although some friends mentioned they no longer see the lights of cranes swinging about at night like they used to.

Although the conditions look extremely tough. Apparently they have improved somewhat over the years. Allegedly a few years back, instead of packed mini-buses, the workers would be packed into the back of a caged cattle truck.  I have heard people referring to it as modern day slave-labour.

Despite this, Dubai is still a fantastic place for a lot of the workers. Although they toil hard here to earn a meagre salary, it’s a huge improvement on what they would be enduring at home.

An example of this is our security guard, Manoj.  Manoj is from Nepal, and he has my utmost respect. Each, and every, day he works a 12 hour shift. He looks tired all the time, but he always has a smile for everyone and enjoys a good chat. I don’t know how someone can do it, then I learned he has a family back home – including a baby girl.  He told me he’s going to see them again in maybe July or August this year. 12 hour shifts x 7 days a week for the next 22 weeks or so, before he can see his family again.  Lots of people talk about making sacrifices, but I doubt they really know the meaning of the word next to some of the people I see.

Due to the financial crisis, the local press has been doing a number of exposes on how some example individual residents have been affected. It even detailed their incomes, and how it’s broken down. If the figures are accurate, some of the workers here are sending 100% of their incomes home while living in basic share accommodation, and eating whatever food the company provides them – which, if you see the battalions of labourers piling out of the buses, is a pretty small plastic bag full.

Some of the people the paper interviewed were illiterate so they didn’t know anything about the financial crisis, like how it was caused. All they knew is they were getting even less money for what they did before.

It’s a bleak picture I’m painting, but it’s one that still looks on the bright side of life. Despite working crazy hours here for not much, huge distances away from their families, these people are able to provide for their family like they may not have imagined back home. And still remain quite happy throughout it. Kudos and big props to them.

Dune bashing take two

Yesterday I was involved in a convoy of seven 4WDs, filled with expats who came together to achieve a single aim.  To bash some dunes.  The mission was a tremendous success.  However we failed to find and reach either of our two destinations, despite a guide book, co-ordinates, GPS technology x 2, and plenty of blokes trying to look like they know what they’re doing.  Camel Hump, and Fossil Rock will need to be a follow-up mission.  Actually we think we may have seen Camel Hump – that is, if it’s a big rocky range that looks like a camel’s hump.

I was picked up at my apartment around 9am, and while I was waiting outside it began to rain.  It was only occasionally drops, but it was definitely rain. So much for only 5 or 6 days or rain each year.  Apparently they exhausted that in the week before I arrived.

We initially met a petrol station – where one of the guys got humorously dissed by the console operator.  Jay is a young stylish guy, and consequently has his hair impressively messed up, going every which way. Apparently the console operator was staring at Jay’s hair, and asked him what the style was called.  Jay said, it’s the “Just got out of bed” style, and said to the guy why, don’t you like it?  The guy responded, “It’s just that it’s very terrible”. HA!

It was interesting to see the camels seemingly roaming wild.  There’s actually no wild camels in Dubai – they are all owned by someone.  But given the great expanse we covered with very extreme undulations, I’d hate to be the guy to herd those camels.  Actually, that job would be pretty tops!

It’s funny cause we didn’t see any for quite some time, but then, all at once they seem to be co-ordinating an attack. They decided against it, when they saw the horse-power on display.

I still don’t have my Dubai driver’s license. It requires a passport, which has been worryingly held by work to organise my Visa.  So the trip turned out to be a good research activity, for when I am in a position to buy a car.  The Prado is a superb vehicle.  I have known this for some time, as my father-in-law solely purchases them for work.  But it was truly awesome to see it effortlessly speeding through the sand, up and down hills like they don’t even exist.

On the other hand, the Jeep Wrangler on show was a huge disappointment.  This is a good thing for me, as a mate of mine in .AU and my former director both had Jeeps which I would give them plenty about. I must forward them the pictures of the Jeep getting pulled around first by a Land Rover, then the Prado. Apparently the driver had quite a bit of off-road experience, so perhaps to the Jeep’s defense, it was not at full strength. By the end of the day, the engine was all but dead.

Also, probably not quite up to the task was a Hummer H3. It’s a pretty awesome vehicle, but way too heavy for driving around in sand.

Other cars that performed well were the Toyota FJ  and Nissan X-Terra.  I hadn’t seen these cars in Australia, but they are both serious machines – made specifically for this sort of action.  But the Prado was in a league of its own, and provided more comfort than the other two combined.

The only other car I am considering is the Nissan Pathfinder, but there was no one on the day with one.  Hmm… decisions, decisions.

On the day there was another case of unbelievable consequences, and proof that it’s a small world.  One of the Aussie guys we met on the day happened to be from Brisbane, when we talked about which suburbs.  It turns out he’s from Indooroopilly, and he just happened to go to the same Lutheran school as one of the other guys.  He was around the same age, and knew, the guys brothers.

Woops

I made my first faux pas today, and lived to tell the tale. 

Well actually it’s my second faux pas if you count the time I was walking out of thesupermarket and inadvertently made eye contact with a prostitute, then looked curiously when I noticed she was beaming a massive, suggestive smile at me. This resulted in me doing a quick about-face, then almost running away before ducking into a different shop to escape.

And actually, it’s my third faux pas if you count my error in judgment when I thought that in my spare bathroom I had a second shower which turned out to be a jet/bidet thing.  Boy did I feel silly, and dirty once I learned how wrong I was*.

But getting back to my stuffup today.  It wasn’t until I got home that I realised, but it’s entirely conceivable- infact, quite likely – that I walked all the way home from the office with my fly/zipper down.  I thought it was a little cooler than usual. And people were pointing and laughing at me more than usual*.   Honestly though, it was quite embarassing.  I know there was at least one look I received that made sense once Irealisedthe errorof myways.

D’oh.

 

 


* This was certainly exaggerated for comic effort.

Happy Birthday honey

Wow wifey, you’re old.  I think sleeping in til 11am on mywife’s birthday would usually be a no-no.  But with a seven hour time difference, and the safety of 12,028 kms, I can say it was entirely appropriate!  Apparently being awayin an entirely different country is not a sufficient present.  Luckily Dubai has everything for the woman who wants something.

The day was important for another reason, as it was my first dayworking for Emirates Group.  The morning was filled with meeting people,and learning what a lot of work I have to do. 

I’ve made a real effort in remembering people’s names, and it has been working amazingly well.  A while ago I think I did an advanced memory course, which taught some techniques which have really paid off. It involves changing the person’s name into words – particularly vivid picture words- then somehow associate it with the person’s appearance, so you can make the connection in future.  I really can’t get into what I’ve been coming up with for some of the sub-continental and Arabic names, but it certainly makes me remember.  Actually the names I’ve invented  are probably a little too vivid and memorable, as I honestly have to try not to laugh with some of the recall that comes when someone comes to see me.

The day also involved a bit of  a medical at headquarters,which involved yet another blood test.  With all the x-rays, blood tests, along with the eye scan at theairport,and yetanother blood test, I wouldn’t be surprised to come into work one day and see a clone of myself sitting next to me.  Well, actually Iwould be surprised.  Surely they could find something more valuable to clone, like a 20 year old baby sheep or something.