Here we are

We clanked our crystal glasses in customary celebration; we were surrounded by old friends, after all. We had cheered hundreds of times together, but never in a locale as exotic as this, and surely, never with just Evian water in our glasses.

The cool summer breeze of the Arabian air engulfed us, the stars twinkled overhead, and the palm trees bristled quietly as they glowed from strategically placed colored fluorescent lights which made them look like pieces of art.

Yet, to my surprise, we were not in an outdoor setting, although it was difficult to tell. It took straining to see that the sparkling overhead was merely canopied electronics reminiscent of a planetarium show and the cool breeze, although we were just steps from the sea, came from craftily hidden air condition units, whose absence would have transformed this opulent courtyard hookah lounge into a muggy and uncomfortable sauna. It was hard to remember we were in the middle of the desert.

We had been in Dubai for only a few hours, and there had not been one second where we had not been absolutely astonished. The city is spotless and modern. It is bigger, larger, more opulent and excessive than any city I had ever visited, rendering venerable cities like Shanghai, Las Vegas, or New York, as mere children looking up to a cooler and more sophisticated older brother that is personified in Dubai.

Just that morning we awoke in a sweltering Bombay hotel on the outskirts of the city. The walls were decrepit and peeling and the lone fan in the corner seemed to only oscillate upon a few taps of encouragement. We had no idea that in just a few hours, we would be smoking sheesa with an old friend on the shore of the Arabian Sea in one of Dubai's world class hotels, not to mention enjoying it all with the newly acquired number of a very cute Emirates Air stewardess in our pocket.

Ramadan had descended onto Dubai just a day before we arrived, condemning us to sipping on water, rather than an alternate drink of choice. Clubs and Bars are closed for the holiday, and the normally raucous city exercises its interpretation of restraint for a whole thirty days. Nonetheless, both Jeff and I were blown away by what we saw - we can only imagine what transpires when the government decree of religious devotion are lifted for the other eleven months of the year.

We were excited to be sharing such an incredible experience with our mutual friend Kevin, with whom we both went to High School back in comparatively lowly Sarasota. Serendipitously, he had just arrived here two days earlier, to assume the role as an analyst at a very prestigious business consulting firm here in Dubai. He graciously offered us his futon, complete with a 12th story view of the Dubai Marina and the Persian Gulf.

As I sat across from Kevin and admired our surroundings, I thought back to my last extranational adventure I was on with Kevin, one of a much different sort, through the unpaved jungle roads of rural Guatemala, almost five years ago. I remember him and I shared a desolate and concrete floor for a week in that tiny town, complete with roaches, mosquitoes, and any other rodent or invertebrate that wandered in attracted to our flashlight, which served as our only light source throughout the night. We entombed ourselves deep into our sleeping bags at night, sacrificing comfort for the protection from such pests. How different our surroundings presently were, how foreign they might seem to our generous hosts back in Guatemala, because after all, they seemed foreign even to us.

We finished our sheesa and wandered to the valet stand by the entrance to catch a cab. It was almost midnight, but the heat was palpable and sweating was unavoidable. A silver Lamborghini pulled up and out emerged a valet driver, and Egyptian man who had been here for four years and had come from a very impoverished section of Cairo.

"That's quite a nice car, is it yours?" quipped Kevin jokingly, trying his best to make friendly conversation.

I expected a humble answer from the valet. I thought about how incredible it must be to be born in a seemingly dead-end place and end up with the opportunity to be consistently driving cars worth more than $100,000.00, only if it even more a moment. What he responded, surprised me, and I think, is indicative of the decadence and excess which defines Dubai.

"Lamborghini? For me? No." he coyly responded.

I bit my lip, concerned Kevin had offended the lowly valet driver with his query. Surely and obviously, it was not his car, and perhaps his comment had made the driver self conscious and embarrassed.

But I was wrong. He pointed over to a shiny red Ferrari sitting just feet away and gave a big smile, "I like this one better, more my style. "