Stupid-Extravagant

Everything in the UAE is named Sheikh-something. The main highway, that guy over there and one of the biggest mosques in the world. The term Sheikh is somewhat of a throwback to a time without man-made islands, when your tribe was your primary form of identity. Sheikhs are still the leaders today but of entire countries now instead of isolated tribes. Also they are no longer stuck in the deserts with their camels but are instead some of the richest individuals on Earth.

The term nouveau-riche is somewhat of understatement for most of the Sheikhs and the local Emiratis who benefit from their money. In the UAE every local citizens gets a tiny percentage of the oil revenues for the entire country and the government has on multiple occasions paid off every local's debts. The point is that many of the locals are only a couple generations removed from living in the desert in canvas tents and now are mega-wealthy.

So what do you do with all the money? Build the world's tallest building, make multiple man-made islands, indoor ski slopes, and two places I just visited this weekend: Sheikh Zayed Mosque (see?) and Emirates Palace. Both are about an hour away in the capital of the UAE, Abu Dhabi. Our friend Aria was kind enough to drive Sean, Jess and myself to these stupid-extravagant sights.

To Quote My Islamic Art and Architecture Professor:
"The Minaret, If We Were In a Western Classroom I Would Say It Is a Phallic Symbol, One of Power."

Our first stop was the Sheikh Zayed Mosque, one of the biggest in the world and just recently completed. In order to enter Jess had to put on a full black abaya with the headscarf, I just had to not be wearing shorts. The mosque was enormous and incredibly beautiful. The intense attention to detail was astounding and everywhere you looked there was a pattern. Inside is the worlds largest hand-woven carpet and the three largest chandeliers in the world.

One thing I still can't wrap my head around though is that within the traditions of Islam there is very strict ban on figurative images in general but especially in mosques. The reason given is that there is only one god and figurative images could lead to idol worship etc but in the mosque it is claimed that it will distract believers from their prayers. To a certain extent this makes sense, most mosques I have been are very peaceful and respectful places. What I don't understand about the Sheikh Zayed Mossque is how anyone could not be distracted while there. The chandeliers were the size of a small car, plated with gold with thousands of LEDs lit up within them. The carpet itself distracted me with it's incredible patterns. I know I am A.D.D. but I could barely hold a conversation in the place let alone pray.

Ooooooh Shiny...

Anyways, our next destination was even more gaudy. Emirates Palace also opened just a few years ago and is reportedly the most expensive hotel ever built at a price tag of $3 billion. $3 BILLION!!! Owned by the Abu Dhabi local government it still doesn't make any sense. Come on can anyone think of anything better you would spend $3 billion on? I guess for Abu Dhabi that is a relatively paltry sum because word on the street here is that they have over $1 trillion in liquid assets, like cash and gold sitting in a vault somewhere. Ok back on track here.

Bling!

As we drove into the underground parking garage the whole first fifty spaces on the right side were full of identical white BMW 740is on the left were what I assumed to be the guest's cars, beamers, Mercedes, Porsches, Ferarris, Lamborghinis, Bentleys, Rolls Royces and other luxury cars I have never even heard of. Upon walking in I was unimpressed but the decor, everything was some shade of gold that is until I relaized that everything was gold. The display cases, the doorknobs, the clothes the staff were wearing and even the walls were all made and at the very least plated with gold. It is also the only place I have ever seen that has wall-sized murals of the palace itself on the walls inside the palace. The entire place was an one expensive act of narcissism.

I Wanna Know Where tha Golds At

As we were leaving, we passed a curious auction. Inside glass jewelry cases, like the one you would see the Hope Diamond in, there were lit up and rotating license plates. Here is another curious cultural phenomenon, people pay exorbitant amounts of money for low-numbered and patterned license plates. Let me give you an example, the closer to 1 the better but numbers like 88888, 616, 12345 are also big money. By big money I mean that some of the plates in the single digits go for upwards of $1 million, much more expensive then the car the plate is on. Again classic nouveau-riche, "look at me I have way more money than you" mentality.

Hmmm What Should I Do With All That Money I Have...

Driving away I couldn't help but think about how self-conscious everyone here must be to spend such vast sums of money on what I would deem essentially useless things. Spending money in order to show your neighbor or the world that you have money is a waste, but giving it to me, now that is a novel idea...

A Pep Rally with Bill

Today I had the great honor of going to the grand opening of the auditorium at American University of Dubai. I'll try to paint the scene as best I can. On what is basketball court the eyes are drawn to the raised stage near the center which is adorned the UAE, US and AUD flags. On either side of the stage are massive monitors displaying scenes from around campus. In the center are rows upon rows of folding chairs and above those, encircling the entire auditorium, are another section of seats all full of students. Think graduation. Yet, the difference between this and graduation was the atmosphere.

Goooo Knights

The only way I can describe the way the students were acting and the way the event was orchestrated is by comparing it to that of a high school pep rally. All the student athletes were in one section dancing to the likes of AC/DCs "You Shook Me all Night Long," "We Are the Champions" and old school hip hop, the kind you would hear at the skate rink in middle school. Then we were forced to chant for the mascot of the school the Knight. This was followed a dance troupe/cheerleaders showing off near the stage in front of the US Consulate General.

I then got rushed from my front row seats back stage and there he was, Bill Clinton. He looked a little older then I remembered him and even though he doesn't inhale he looked pretty dazed and confused. I shook his hand and asked him "How are you?" and thanked for the opportunity he gave me, coming to Dubai. We presented him a a framed picture of all of us Clinton Scholars and he said he would put it up in his Harlem office. We took a couple pictures with the him and then we were rushed back to our seats.

The pep rally culminated with Bill Clinton's speech. He spoke of common problems facing all peoples, inequality, climate change and what young people should do about them. He gave examples like the Grameen Bank, Kiva.org and his foundation's work in distributing solar-powered lights to Haiti. One thing I though was interesting is that he obviously qualified many of his statements because of the country he was speaking


in. IF you live in a democratic country, your school in ONE example of how men an women can have equal opportunities in education, IF you live in such a society you SHOULD speak out for you political views. I could see how some of these statements could be deemed as attacking the UAE and fermenting a revolt.

Gooooooo Clinton!

Like at the Democratic National Convention, Clinton's speech ended with a standing ovation, lots of hand shaking and white and blue balloons falling from the ceiling. Unlike the DNC though the the song that was played as he finished his speech was "Tonights Going to Be a Good Night." Those unfamiliar with the song should know that it is about partying, drinking and spending all your money in one night, as distant from Clinton's message as a song could be without playing death metal.

As Clinton's helicopter flew away, I felt a confused mix of fake school spirit and horror at the way the whole event was run but I was truly inspired, wanting to do some good for the world.

"Do Some Good."

Palm Island

Tonight I went to my first 'house party' Dubai style. More or less it was the same as any party at any house in a college town. The main difference, though, was the setting. It was hosted at a villa on a man-made island in the Persian Gulf.

There was a DJ, a bar and a beach. The most striking aspect was the "fight" I witnessed as soon as I exited the taxi. Here in Dubai the police are so ever-present and scary that fights play out like peacocks vying for a mate. No, touching just lots of loud arguments followed by six people "holding back" each individual. Obviously most of these individuals would last very shortly at an American college.

Yet, tonight I met more people from more countries then I could have ever imagined. A South African, Northern Californian, German, a Swiss guy, a Saudi, a Brit and a Hungarian-Iraqi. Most importantly, I realized that no matter what ethnicity or nationality every person I met was so much the same in this setting that it made me realize the common humanity that we all share. Plus, I got in for free.

Days 3 and 4: Adventure Some More

Most of day 3 was spent aimlessly walking around Beirut looking for a cheap hotel suite in which all six of us could stay. One place was too sketchy and the next too expensive and so on. At another the proprietor told of us a cheap suite that could fit six of us. He showed us the room which had two singles, puke green carpet and the smell of cat piss. We said 'no thanks.' Eventually Jean Paul, on a whim, found a great room in a hotel with a modern facade, El-Sheikh. We even had a pool in our room but only after one of us took a shower.

Anxious to get the day started we took a taxi to the Roche, a couple of majestic rock formations that rose from the ocean in downtown Beirut. As the requisite 'identical-facebook-albums' photo shoot took place a small teenager approached us. He offered to set us up for a boat ride around the rocks and after some price negotiations we found ourselves on a small dingy speeding around and through the Roche. The water was choppy and filthy but the rocks were stunning, albeit unclimbable and trust me I checked.

The Roche Beautiful but Unclimbable

We milled about a fancy hotel and then met up with Jean-Philippe who said he would take us to Beyt al-Din, literally translated to house of religion, a 14^th century Ottoman villa. As we were on a tight schedule because our German friend Andy was flying in, his statement that it would take 30 minutes was just barely perfect. 30 minutes later we weren't halfway there and pissed, so Jean-Philippe changed our destination to Sa'ida a series of ancient ruins sitting alone off the coastline. Yet, they were closed. He tried to make it up to us by going to a famous pastry shop.

I have never been so stressed out in a pastry shop ever in my life. The scene was one of chaos, customers swarming the counters which were full of Arab pastries, french chocolates and gelato. In the middle of the swarm Jean Philippe is attempting to explain to us about each pastry's name, contents, history, maiden name while we were swooning from not eating for eight hours. We just wanted some pastries so we wouldn't die. Jean-Paul and I eventually ordered and each ate 20 different kinds of pastries as a guy behind the counter yelled Arab numbers repeatedly over and over again at 15 second intervals.

That night our group finally became whole when Andy joined us, on a rooftop restaurant overlooking the Mediterranean, for dinner. I had a relaxing a night and the next morning Jean-Paul and I went to rent a car. We wanted a little more freedom and not be rushed around by Jean-Philippe. We had to wait for two hours to get the car but it was worth it because we explored the beautiful Mohammad al-Amin Mosque. After a short nap in the mosque we got our little Nissan Sunny and headed to Jeita Cave.

Or tried to. I asked many random people for direction in broken Arabic but most of the time I was unable to understand what their answer. I would ask and the short conversations would go something like this:

Fdsgafdsag...straight for...asdnbvc...right after the...afdsfd...

Shukran? (thanks).

Then we were on our way, to ask for more directions! Eventually we made in to Jeita Cave. Here we took a short cable car up to the top entrance of the cave where our cameras were immediately confiscated. No pictures allowed because they wanted you to buy them in the gift shop. The cave itself was heavily trafficked with a concrete path throughout. Yet, the chambers were quite large and the formations were some of the most unique I have seen in a cave. Some looked like jellyfish, other like curtains and one that was black from so many people touching it, appeared phallic in nature.

A Picture I Was Supposed to Buy

On the way to the bottom level of the cave we took a "train" that was actually just a tractor and passed the a most soul-crushing zoo. Where even the turtle were frustrated enough to headbutt each other. On the bottom level we took a 5 minute boat ride and saw a few more formations but mostly Jean-Paul splashing water.

Tractor-Train

Driving on the way out were continually impressed with kindness of every stranger we met. With time to kill we got directions to somewhere nearby and explored some more. We found ourselves in a small mountain town, with amazing cliffs and free standing rock formations, where we took in the view. The potential for climbing here is immense. On the way back to pick up Awos, who had been asleep all day and to go eat, we got lost for just minute.

So Many Rocks!

Right or left? Just down the road to the left we passSo Many Rocks!ed a military checkpoint, high upon a the ridge line replete with tanks, artillery and soldiers. We turned around, took the right and headed back to fabulous Beirut...

Day 2: Churches, Christmas Trees and Vomit

Waking up in order to vomit is not a fun way to start the first full day of vacation. Yet, I didn't speak enough Arabic the night before to know what kind of street food I was ordering. It was delicious and there was a lot of yelling and pointing involved but it didn't settle quite right in my stomach.

We went on to have a few more stomach churning experiences that day. The first was that we hadn't all gone to AUB instead of AUD. The campus was beautiful, it was in a lively part of town and the students we saw looked happy to be there. After a little exploring Jean Paul met a professor and she showed us the private AUB Mediterranean beach. As we passed the the beach guard the professor, a cute little woman, says "They're not with me," and the guard let us swim and enjoy it anyways.

The Guys and the Amazing AUB

We got picked up by Jean-Philippe and headed North out of the city. The drive, itself, to Harissa, an area that includes a Maronite church, a Catholic church and another small church all on top of a mountain, almost made me a believer. The scariest aspect of Beirut, except maybe an Israeli invasion, is the driving. People in Lebanon are the most insane drivers I have ever come across and I thought there were some crazies in Boone. More on that in another post though.

The (In)Famous Jean-Philippe

After being thoroughly frightened by our resident driver Jean-Philippe on the way out of Beirut, he proceeded to tell us about the gift Uncle Sam gave to Lebanon. A fleet of brand new Dodge Charger police cars, one of which, lights flashing, he just passed.

“Don't worry about the police here. Even if they come up behind you with their lights on. They always have their lights on, like a Christmas tree.”

How comforting.

Then about the military checkpoint ahead:

“No talking, no laughing, no taking pictures. Just look straight ahead. He might make us stop and get out of the car too. There might be too many people in the car and one of you may need to get out.”

Telephrique on the Way Up

As we slowed down, turned off the music and gazed gravely out the windshield, the guard waved us through without even a 'bonjour'. We got to the bottom of the mountain and took a lovely, yet somewhat rickety cable car or 'telephrique' up above Beirut and into Harissa. The view of the city combined with the Mediterranean and sweeping mountains was astounding. Until that moment I hadn't really enjoyed the natural beauty of Lebanon. The mountains reminded me of home, they were hugging me the whole way up.

Beirut from Above

On top of the mountain, after passing through a snack bar, juice shop and gift shop we entered the grounds of the churches. Here an ugly Maronite church clashed with a beautiful statue of Mary and the incredible view. It was very reminiscent of the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro. We reached the top the spiral staircase that led to the feet of Mary and Jean-Phillip showed us that if you rubbed a coin on the base of the statue and it stuck then your prayers would be granted. His stuck.

The Mary and the Maronite Church

After another stomach churning drive we arrived at a monastery that overlooked the Mediterranean. Here I tried to climb a tree but Jean-Philippe informed that the nuns would come yell at me. Angry nuns yelling at you on the edge of cliff is a fun thought but not one I wanted to experience.

That evening the six of us ate at and explored Byblos, one of the oldest inhabited cities in the world. It consisted of Phoenician ruins jutting out into the ocean as well as shops and restaurants tucked away in a truly ancient city. We frolicked down narrow cobble alleyways and lively squares as techno pulsed from the clubs nearby.

As we pulled into the hotel I reflected on the harrowing drive, intimidating authority figures and so many churches and realized: I need a strong drink...