It dawns on me that I’ve mentioned quite a bit about the wealth floating around UAE. But I think maybe my implied disconnect between the proverbial 1% and the masses has been insufficient.
The working class are definitely working. The people I’ve talked to always seem to be working — it’s an expensive place to be. Take for example my tour guide if yesterday. He pays 1300 dirham a month for rent, or roughly 433 US dollars. In Egypt he said he could rent a villa for that. But here in Dubai he lives four people in a room in an apartment; 20 people live in the apartment. If he’s paying an average share, that makes for a monthly rent of 26,000 dirham or roughly 8,666 US Dollars a month.
One has to therefore constantly be working to cover expenses and to save any money, be it for oneself or to send home to family (the appeal of UAE to workers from Pakistan, Egypt, Bengal, etc. is the lack of jobs at home and the exchange rate to home currency). Most of the service industry people I chatted with – cab drivers, restaurant staff, tour operators – said as much. They put in long days, slept, did laundry and then started all over again. They don’t typically get to enjoy the simple luxuries of a trip to the cinemas let alone the extravaganzas of say skiing inside the Mall of the Emirates. It’s a wide gap in income and experience. Humbling and eye-opening. On the one hand I’m gawking at the excesses of the biggest, tallest, costliest wonders that the United Arab Emirates has to offer; I’m enjoying the spectacle and experience. But at the same time, I’m a little embarrassed that I get to go and do a sliver of a fraction of what the emirate millionaires and power brokers have at their disposal here. I’m lucky and I try and keep that in perspective but there’s also a nagging voice in my head that wonders at what social cost is all this experience costing? I seem to be part of a bigger problem and yet the economics of the situation is clear — despite all the hardships and sacrifices, the working class here are saving money and sending it home at higher rates than they perhaps could in a high unemployment homeland. But is that just me rationalizing away some proverbial Catholic guilt or unequivocal socio-economic privilege guilt?
There’s a weird messing with one’s head feeling – “hey, this is a fun and unique experience!” bumping up psychologically, emotionally, and spiritually with a “hey,?what is this REALLY costing society and the world? Maybe the cost is too high…”
Further rationalizing warnings come in the form of a slothfulness that has started to seep in. I had set my alarm to go for a run this morning and hit snooze instead. I’m indulging in the luxury of holidays. There’s a bit of guilt there but I’m not trying to assuage such feelings by saying to myself, “yes, but I’m *thinking* about my privilege… surely THAT excuses some of the guilt…”
The reality is I have no answers only more questions. Maybe that’s the point of travel – to broaden the perspective and realize for ourselves that there are more things on heaven and hell than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio.
***
There is much more to ponder. There is more to be said… and A LOT more to be done.
Take for example this — not just a supermarket, but a HYPERmarket. There are donation boxes outside.
And yet I’m so easily distracted — oh, look — falafel!
