A Quick (Virtual) Trip Back East

A very quick post today inspired by an article I read this morning in the online magazine China Dialogue. The article, available here, discusses a new partnership between a coalition of UK companies and China to develop low-carbon housing pilot projects and eco-city demonstration sites. Led by 25 big construction and development firms and 3 universities from the UK, the partnership seeks to engage the Chinese government at the national level through the Ministry of Housing and Urban and Rural Development (MoHURD) to develop these low-carbon areas based on the government's goals and aspirations.

Aside from being a very interesting new partnership that demonstrates the global awareness of the importance of China's development, the article highlighted a few issues that I discussed in my previous posts on China's eco-cities and raised some questions that I thought appropriate to share for your consideration. First, if you will recall in my "A Tale of Four Cities" series, one of the issues I stressed in each case study was the need for multi-level, multi-stakeholder engagement to ensure financial, political, and social support for a project. I mentioned in conjunction with Dongtan and Huangbaiyu how in each case a failure of support at one of the critical stakeholder levels had contributed to the downfall of the city. Well, this article supports my theories (which were based on observation, a summary of news stories chronicling the projects, and interviews) with a quote from smart housing expert Alan Kell who states that part of Dongtan's demise was the lack of support from the Beijing Central Government. If you will recall, the only Chinese government support came from a now disgraced minister in Shanghai who took the project under his wing. Without the backing of stronger political forces in China, once this minister fell from grace, the project was doomed.

In Huangbaiyu, one of the contributing factors I discussed was the monopoly control of a single Chinese commercial entity with little foreign or domestic support or oversight. Though not directly mentioned in the China Dialogue article as a source of the failure of this city, it appears that the UK has learned from this case as well by collaborating with multiple companies in England and China to make this new vision a reality.

And now for the thought-provoking questions. The article challenges the reader to wonder whether this commercial approach to low-carbon is the right one. The author argues that commercial interests are inherently driven to looking at profits and revenues and therefore are more likely to effect viable low-carbon cities rather than just demonstrations. Yet the level of commercial and political involvement is still a balancing act, especially around the issue of equity. If a city is left entirely commercial, and the developer has to recover his cost, then chances are he will target the up-scale market that can and will pay a premium for the glitz and glamor of living in an eco-city. Yet what fraction of the population is this? And how can we extend the availability of ecological housing and environmentally sensitive developments across the whole spectrum of consumers? Are eco-cities destined to remain just another way to segregate rich and poor? And finally, what exactly does the term "eco-city" mean? Is it only environmental or must it necessarily include economics and sociocultural factors as well?

I encourage you all to ponder these as I hope to provide some thoughts and answers from my trip in upcoming posts. Of particular interest to those considering this topic will be my next which will discuss my understanding of and thoughts on Abu Dhabi's Masdar City--a city simultaneously lauded for its environmentally progressive goals and derided for being, quite literally, a city on a pedestal. Stay tuned for that!

My Last Week in the UAE

In many ways, my last week in the UAE was more eventful than the rest of my time there. Ok, that may be an overstatement, but it is not an overstatement to say that it was the single most eventful week I had there and rivals my final week in China for the most eventful to date in my trip. This post will relate the combination of meetings, intercity travel, and unique experiences I had during that week.

Thursday
On my last Thursday night in Dubai, I had a choice of how to spend my last weekend in Dubai. As I think I mentioned in a previous post, weekends here are Thursday night through Saturday night because the Muslim day of prayer is Friday. So Thursday nights the affluent flood the malls and clubs while the poorer inhabitants head to the streets of Deira and Bur Dubai. For me, the decision was where to head to make the most of my last weekend in the city. After having spent some nights in both the new and old parts of the city, I decided instead to venture out to one of the only places where on a Thursday night you are liable to find people from all social strata: the horse races. Horse racing is a big event in the UAE with many Sheikhs and wealthy businessmen owning and racing horses weekly. I had visited the older racetrack in Dubai on New Year’s Eve as an afternoon activity and found just how integrated the atmosphere can be and so thought I would explore it yet again.

With my course set for Meydan Racecourse, I headed out on a bus bound for the desert. The track is several kilometers from the city and there is nothing else in its vicinity save a trackside hotel. The whole area is intended to be built into Meydan City, but with the slowdown, construction is currently on hold. The bus doesn’t even reach the track, and I had to walk with some other race fans for a kilometer or so to reach the grandstand. Under the lights, laborers and service class workers mingled with Dubai’s middle class on the grass and in the stands, each holding their betting cards and waiting eagerly for their horses to take the track. A separate area with private boxes and plush seats denoted the zone intended for owners and VIPs—not the general, free admission section for me. Yet once the horses took the track it didn’t matter where you were sitting. Excitement flooded the stadium as the riders came around the final turn in each race, kids ran alongside as fast as their feet would carry them, and onlookers cheered for their horses in hopes of doubling their week’s pay.

Six races later it was all over. Some people went home richer, many went home as they came or with even less. I had not bet but just went to enjoy the atmosphere, watch the excitement of the races, and soak in the mingling of classes—a rare sight in Dubai. Yet as the night was still young, I hopped a cab to the Dubai Mall and for one more night, basked in the grandeur and immense size of this shopping mecca. After catching the fountain show once more and wandering the many aisles of stores, I headed back to my hostel for some much needed rest.

Friday
One of the most interesting phenomena in Dubai is that on Friday morning when the devout are at the mosque, the non-Muslim population turns out at the hotels in force for bottles and bottles of bubbly. Every five star hotel has a Friday morning champagne brunch almost in a backlash against the tight alcohol laws imposed by the Islamic state—drink while they pray. While I didn’t make it to one of these expensive rituals, this last Friday I did partake in the brunch phenomenon with two friends, Rob Ferry and Elizabeth Monoian. I met Rob and Elizabeth as I do many of my friends and interviewees—through an introductory e-mail after finding their website—and after we had brunch on Christmas Eve and bonded over being lonely Americans, we agreed to meet again. This second brunch was a lovely time chatting and learning more about each other’s experiences in Dubai, of which their experience is much more extensive, especially as they are pioneering a public art project to educate visitors about renewable energy (it’s really cool and called the Land Art Generator Initiative—check it out here). We had a nice time talking and dining at Paul Patisserie before finally I had to head off and play tour guide in the city I had come to enjoy.

A week earlier I had gotten an e-mail from Jamie Chu, my old friend who toured me around Beijing informing me that her friend Karen would be through Dubai for a day. In the mood for a fun afternoon, I agreed to show Karen around Dubai. So after a slight confusion over where her hotel was, we met up, had a quick lunch, and then headed all the way down Sheikh Zayed Road to the Atlantis on the Palm. Starting here, we figured to work our way back up the road until Karen had to get on a plane bound for her home in Mauritius.

From the Palm it was off to Madinat Jumeirah and a glimpse of the Burj al Arab, but in a mode of conveyance with which I was not previously acquainted. I knew that taxis were a very common way of getting around Dubai, and was very familiar with the tan colored sedans that comfortably ferried travelers around. Yet exiting the Palm, none were in sight. We asked the host for a cab and were directed to a silver Lexus sedan parked in the drop off zone. Skeptical, I questioned the host twice that this was a metered cab and he assured me it was, though at a slightly higher rate than the normal Nissan Altimas. Not wanting to waste time waiting for a tan cab and intrigued by the chance of hiring a Lexus cab, Karen and I hopped in for our 15 minute ride in luxury to Madinat Jumeirah. I think that only in Dubai would you find a Lexus cab waiting to rush you around the city. It was luxurious, but really a bit unnecessary.

Madinat Jumeirah provided a nice recharge at Costa Coffee in view of the Burj before heading to the other Burj—Burj Khalifa, the tallest tower in the world. From there, it was a quick trip into the mall to see its interior, but a longer than intended detour at the aquarium. Karen was impressed with the existence of an aquarium in the mall, and so we bought tickets and walked through to view the fish and animals. As it had been a while since lunch, we wandered for a while chatting until we found a good spot for dinner—the only restaurant in the mall that serves a camel burger. This was my second time eating camel (which is, by the way extremely delicious—better than beef) and Karen’s first. The restaurant too was an experience—a very interesting interior design that provided a very modern look and something a bit unexpected in a mall environment.

With the night now waning, and Karen fading fast after her long journey, we caught the Metro up to her hotel so she could rest a bit before her early morning flight to Mauritius. We sadly missed out on seeing Old Dubai, but I suppose she needs something to see next time she comes through town. After seeing her onto the shuttle to the airport, I caught a cab ride back to my hostel for some more needed rest and preparation for my next day.

Saturday
Saturday proved to be one of the most interesting days I had in the UAE, and an experience which I will never forget. Danny, my roommate in my apartment, had mentioned to me that a company in Ajman owned by a member of the ruling family was very keen on environmental design and protection. He suggested I get in touch with them but after failing to find the company’s information anywhere, I instead decided to try and contact the owner of the company, His Excellency Sheikh Abdulaziz al Nuaimi. Normally I would not have the audacity to send a direct e-mail to a member of one of the Emirates’ ruling families, but articles on how His Excellency reaches out to youth and meets with young men about environmental issues while freely issuing his business card encouraged me. Not a day after I had sent my initial mail, he had responded warmly, offering to meet with me and discuss his activities. After some back and forth, we arranged a day and time, and so Saturday found me heading out to Ajman to meet with His Excellency at his home.

After an hour bus ride and a 45 minute walk, I found myself staring at the gate to the community where the “Green Sheikh” as he is known lives. Before I could enter, an SUV with shaded windows rolled up, the window came down, and a smiling man in Emirati dress said “You must be Rob.” Next I knew, I was riding shotgun with Sheikh Abdulaziz to drop his son at an activities class before we returned to his home to discuss sustainability initiatives in schools over tea and Arabic sweets. We chatted for nearly two hours on the topic of environmental education and the role of introducing students to environmental business opportunities as a means to advance sustainability awareness and knowledge. Our conversation went so long, that before we knew it, the mosque was ringing out a call to prayer.

I expected this to end our meeting, understanding that Sheikh Abdulaziz would want to pray but, as a testament to his kindness, he invited me to extend our time together by sharing with me the ritual of ablution and prayer. He said he had shown others before me how to pray and they had enjoyed the experience and since this Fellowship is about learning and experiencing, I heartily agreed. A quick ride from the house found us at the mosque where Sheikh Abdulaziz, his son, and I removed our shoes and headed into the room for ablution. He taught me the rituals of washing the hands, arms, face, ears, nose, mouth, and feet three times each, and when we were finished, we joined the crowd heading into the mosque.

One of the coolest things about this whole experience in my opinion was the absolute equality of it. Here I stood shoulder to shoulder with a member of the ruling family of Ajman on my right and likely a middle class worker on my left with two young men and a day laborer directly in front of me. Sheikh Abdulaziz leaned over and whispered, “Just follow what I do.” As the prayer began, everyone stood shoulder to shoulder no matter where you came from or what you did—in this moment we were all equal in the eyes of God. Surreptitiously watching Sheikh Abdulaziz out of the corner of my eye, I copied his movements, in turn crossing my arms over my chest (I do not know the Arabic prayer to accompany the motions), kneeling down and prostrating before God with my nose and forehead on the carpet, sitting on my haunches in silent reflection, and then rising to repeat. At the end of the prayer, you turn to your left and right and whisper “Salaam alaikum” to the person on either side followed by shaking hands. This utter equality left a profound impact on me—in no other world would I see this cross-section of society come together and genuinely wish each other Peace. The reverent atmosphere of the mosque, the unity of the prayer, and the sense of community left me thinking about religion and how I have never really belonged to such a community of faith. I can understand much better how for many, church, temple, or the mosque is a place of gathering and friendship as much as a place of worship. It was this community aspect, the oneness of it all that made the most profound impact on me.

I must say too that this was not a typical tourist experience, and I feel indebted to Sheikh Abdulaziz for his kindness in sharing that experience with me. It really emphasizes that at its core, Islam is a peaceful religion which, sadly, like many other world religions has been twisted by radicals (if you think others haven’t done this, violence in India and the Crusades nearly a millennium ago are examples to look up).

After this experience, we headed back to his home for a few more minutes of chatting and some more sweets before I left him with two other sustainability leaders to discuss a business matter they are putting together. Now dusk, I wandered the beachfront until I found out just how close together Sharjah, Dubai, and Ajman are—in ten minutes I had crossed into Sharjah and 30 minutes later was at the bus station waiting to head back to Dubai reflecting on my experience with His Excellency Sheikh Abdulaziz.

Sunday
Sunday found me once again heading up the coast to Sharjah but not before taking a trip up the tallest tower in the world—Burj Khalifa (for more information on that, see my post about it). After heading back to the ground floor, I caught a bus to meet with Jeremy Byatt, the head of Bee’ah, the Sharjah Environmental Company. I had met Jeremy at a trade show in Dubai and was impressed with his knowledge and dynamism. In his bustling office I saw proof that environmentalism is going strong in parts of the UAE—everyone from young Emiratis to foreigners were working hard on recycling initiatives, waste management, publicity, and other campaigns to increase the visibility of environmental causes in and around the UAE.

Jeremy and I sat and talked for over an hour before I finally let him get back to his work and headed off to explore Sharjah on my own. Though I had lived next door to this city for two months now, I had only been previously for business and never got to explore. I wandered through the Central Souk which was relatively deserted at 4 on a Sunday (understandably so—for comparison, imagine a mall at 4 on a Monday in the US). The building itself was very impressive however, and I can only imagine that when lit and viewed from across the bay it is a gorgeous sight.

From there it was off to the older part of Sharjah and the waterfront where traditional style buildings clash with modern office towers. The traditional structures are inhabited by another rehabilitated souk charging exorbitant prices for “antiques.” One look, however, at the antique knives reveals a poorly created sheet metal blade sitting in new wood—certainly not a relic of a time gone by. From here, it was only a short walk to the very interesting animal and bird market. If you need bird seed or dog food, this is the place to come, but that is not what draws visitors or most buyers. Here you can also find every manner of animal itself. From dogs to rabbits, parrots to hamsters, and even falcons (yes, there was one falcon shop), you can find any animal you might want for a pet. There were some that I am pretty sure are illegal to be bought and sold under the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES), but not one to muckrake in a country like the UAE, I just turned a blind eye. The atmosphere was bustling and (unsurprisingly) noisy, but it was fun to walk through and window-shop. A word of warning though that the cages are small so if you’re prone to having your heartstrings tugged by puppy dog eyes staring from behind small wires, this may not be for you.

After that walk, it was back to the bus station to head once more back to Dubai so that I would be ready to travel to my third emirate in as many days the next morning.

Monday
Waking up on Monday, I knew it was going to be a busy day. I was up and gone early to catch the bus to Abu Dhabi which, when I arrived, had a crowd waiting already longer than a single bus. I grabbed my ticket and joined the queue wondering why the line was so long—I’d never seen it that bad in all of my trips to Abu Dhabi. When the bus arrived, people poured on, and in what I have come to learn is the norm for Indian society (the group that formed the largest contingent waiting for the bus), the line dissolved into a surging mass of people vying for a shoulder’s edge in front of the next guy. Not accustomed to pushing and shoving, I missed the bus by one seat, but luckily the next bus arrived within 5 minutes. Expecting the same crowd, I staked my place and made it aboard the bus as the first passenger, thereby securing my place.

When I arrived in Abu Dhabi, I hurried on foot to the Environment Agency for a meeting only to get lost following the directions I had printed. A quick phone call set me back on track, but I still arrived about 15 minutes late, or so I thought. It turns out that according to the party with whom I was meeting, I arrived 23 hours and 45 minutes early. Somewhere we had crossed wires and had believed we were meeting on two different days. Lucky for me, she had the flexibility and the graciousness to receive me that day, and we had a nice long chat about the role of big business in leading the sustainability drive in Abu Dhabi and how Corporate Social Responsibility can drive sustainable action.

From there, I hailed a taxi as quickly as I could to head out to what had been my goal since my first day in the UAE: Masdar City. After the confusion of my first meeting, I was a bit apprehensive that I had the day completely wrong for both meetings and would be arriving unexpectedly after such a long journey and expensive cab fare. All I could hope was that either I was right in this meeting or the professor with whom I was meeting would be just as gracious as the last. Putting these fears aside, I began to get excited as I saw the raised city of Masdar rising from the sands in front of the cab. For all the pictures I had seen, it was unreal to see this city on a podium rising before my eyes. The terra cotta facades atop the metal undercroft pitted against the orange sands and blue sky was unreal—here was the most complete eco-city I had yet visited and the one that looked the most futuristic.

From the cab, I wandered up the stairs to the main level of the city and found the entrance to the university. The only problem was that there was no one at the reception desk. I found the only person I could and asked for the professor but was told that no one was in the office at the moment—everyone was out in the courtyard. Hoping that my memory was good enough to identify the professor with whom I was meeting from their photo on the site, I headed out to the courtyard to find the whole of the university (maybe 100 people at most) mingling over mocktails and shrimp cocktails. Grabbing a juice, I wove through the crowd and began asking if anyone had seen the professor for whom I was searching. Yet before I got very far, I was herded with the rest back out of the courtyard and into a narrower hallway in the university. We were stopped there and turned around to march back through the same hallway but this time passing through metal detectors.

This seemed a bit strange to me, but then I recalled an article I had read in passing the day before: “Clinton to Visit Masdar.” By some twist of fate, I had scheduled my meeting at Masdar City the same day that Secretary of State Hillary Clinton was speaking. Not only that, we were supposed to meet at the same time. This was, for me, an interesting and welcome twist, and to top it off, it happened that while in the gents’ line for the metal detector, I spotted the professor I was meeting in the ladies line. To be sure that I had spotted the right person, I noticed her carrying a Post-It with my phone number written on it. After we were both searched and inspected with the wand and bomb-sniffing dogs, I approached her to see about our meeting. We decided that it would be best to watch the speech and then reconvene to discuss sustainability in the UAE and with that, we waited for the Secretary to make her appearance. After everyone had stood in the courtyard for nearly an hour, Dr. Sultan al Jaber, the CEO of Masdar, made his way to the podium followed by Secretary Clinton to give their respective addresses.

The speeches were interesting to me if only to hear how the politicians view the project and the collaboration between the two nations. Secretary Clinton praised Masdar at length and Abu Dhabi for providing visionary leadership in the realm of sustainable development and renewable energy. She expounded that President Obama is fighting for those same things in the US. However in a statement that I wanted to question, she then followed that the US would actively help the UAE to create jobs in renewable energy there, but said nothing about creating such jobs in the US. Either she lacks hope or was playing to her predominantly UAE-based audience. Either way, I wish she had taken questions so I could have pressed her on the issue.

Once the speech was over, I had my meeting and then raced once more in a cab to the Abu Dhabi bus station. I boarded for Dubai, now running late because of the Secretary for an evening meeting in Dubai that ended up getting canceled. With a little flexibility to relax, I strolled through Bur Dubai until I reached a great little kebab chain called “Eat and Drink” recommended by my friend Danny. With a big fruit juice and some chicken shawarma, I relaxed and prepared for my final day in Dubai.

Tuesday
I had intentionally left my last day in Dubai free of meetings not for the usual reason of needing to pack or run last minute souvenir errands (though I did get up and do that) but rather to partake in what the guidebooks claim is the “quintessential UAE experience”: a desert safari. Having done safaris in Africa (and having learned enough Swahili to know that “safari” just means trip—the animal connotation is a Western one), I wasn’t sure what to expect considering that there were no big game reserves around Dubai. But with the company of some of my hostelmates who I had gotten to know, we set out in a 4x4 for the dunes. Our first stop was at a little desert camp with a sad looking camel, an eagle, an emu, and some monkeys. Since only one of those animals is indigenous to the area, I wasn’t sure what to expect from the rest of the trip, but was happy when after waiting for a couple of the others on the trip to take a quad bike ride for a half hour we set out once more.

Now it was time for the real fun of these safaris—dune bashing. Here, an experienced driver takes you racing up some of the large sand dunes out in the desert only to slide halfway down before recovering, spraying sand everywhere, and charging back up for another go. I wouldn’t say it is as exhilarating as a roller coaster like the ads claim, but it is quite a thrill, especially when as a first-timer you have a faint feeling that the car might roll. The half hour spent on this part of the trip was pretty fun and I would gladly have done more, but instead we headed up to a rocky outcrop in the desert to watch the sunset. I must say, I never thought that such emptiness and sands could be so gorgeous, but as the sun dropped lower and threw its long rays across the orange sands, it seemed to set the sands aflame. Coupled with the serenity of being so far from civilization, the sunset was sublime.

From the sunset point, we headed to a desert camp for the rest of the evening. Here we got to sample a bit of Emirati culture, or at least the very watered-down tourist version. The experience began with a short ride on the back of a camel—the traditional conveyance of the Emiratis. While this was fun, I would have preferred a longer trip or the chance to actually ride a camel without someone leading it in a short 10 m track. After this, we headed inside after a quick pose with a falcon to enjoy some dancing and traditional music. This was topped off with a wonderful all-you-can-eat Arabic dinner while we watched the dancing and listened to the music. We then capped the night off by trying on Arabic national dress—the ultimate touristy thing to do.

After dinner it was back to Dubai and for me, one more rendezvous with the other Rob, the friend with whom I had breakfast the past Friday. He had mentioned that he and Elizabeth had discovered a dive bar and so I thought it only appropriate that I check it out on my last night in Dubai. This place, called the Cowboy (written in pink neon), wasn’t quite the peanut-shells-on-the-floor drunken mess that I associate with a dive bar, but as Dubai goes, this was about the worst I’d seen. He and I had a great time talking until it was later than the buses run and I figured I should head home. Without any sort of public transit to get me home I hiked 2 hours across the Maktoum Bridge and through Deira not because I was too stubborn to buy a cab but because I didn’t have any dirhams left to pay for one after the three drinks at the bar. When I finally made it home, I stumbled in and passed out for my last night in Dubai.

Wednesday
Well, this was my last day in Dubai and I had planned such that it would be a lazy morning of finishing packing, grabbing breakfast, and then heading to the airport. Without any errands to run, I packed things up and hopped the Metro to the airport. I arrived in plenty of time, said goodbye to a few friends over the phone, and then got ready to jet to Delhi. But that I will leave for another post…

The Border Runs

If you’re an American and you stay in Dubai long enough on a visit visa, eventually they kick you out. Well, long enough happens to be 30 days and for my purposes that just wasn’t enough. Luckily, “kicking you out” means that as long as you cross over the border into any other country (pick your favorite, and preferably one that you don’t need a visa in advance for) you can come back with a brand new 30 days on in the UAE for free. For most, the easiest point of refuge for these trips (and the cheapest) is neighboring Oman. Only a several hours round trip by car or under two round trip in the air, Oman provides the perfect haven for escaping the overstay fines and, if you’re like me, taking a nice couple of days respite from the high-rises and rat race of Dubai. This post is the chronicle of those two days of escape and a bit of discussion about the differences between the UAE and its relatively less developed neighbor, Oman.

My first border run fell the day before National Day, December 1, on the last day of my visa. However the process of getting out was not as straightforward as I had believed it to be. After searching for buses and services to make the border run or the trip to Oman, I concluded that it was safer and a better deal to fly from Sharjah (the city next to Dubai) to Muscat, stay for a day and explore the city, and then return the same day. It was cheaper in the end to do this than to take the bus and pay for a hotel in Oman to have a day to explore. The only problem was that the woman at the airline booking office did not believe that I could stay the day in Oman. Because so many expats book their border run flights—land in Muscat, turn around and fly to Dubai—she thought I had to get right back on the plane and fly home. After running around Dubai to find the Immigration office that could answer that question, I was vindicated in my belief that I could, for the small price of $30 for the Omani visa, stay in Oman for the day and tour Muscat. (That is a note for any other travelers trying this trick—do not let the airline agents convince you that you must turn right around. You can get a visa on arrival in Oman, stay the day, and then return on the evening flight).

So on the appointed day I rose early and, thanks to the generosity of my new roommate Danny, was driven to the Sharjah airport (that drive saved me about two hours had I gone by public transit). It’s amazing when you fly out of Sharjah how quickly the beaches and towers of Dubai fade and the landscape changes. Soon you are flying over hills and canyons of varying hues of red, orange, yellow, and brown, all changing shape beneath your window. These hills continue changing shape until after about an hour, they meet the ocean with only a line of city to separate the two. This is Muscat.

From the air, Muscat stretches along the coast and inland, its multiple centers separated by hills with suburbs nestled in the picturesque valleys. The airport occupies a stretch of desert not far from the main city centers but far enough to appear in a different world from the rest of the city. After deplaning and paying my visa fee, I was out of the airport to find a cab and head to town. For a long time once you leave the airport, you drive through desert, sandy dunes and rocky hills alternating outside your window. Without much warning, you break through into first the financial center, a small, low to mid-rise development reminiscent of a roadside town along Route 66 that has spawned a few office towers. From here, another passage through hills and you are in Muttrah, the first seaside hamlet of Muscat. Here I alighted from my taxi to begin my walking tour of historic Muscat. Guided by a scribbled version of Lonely Planet’s walking tour and a map I picked up in Dubai, I set out first for the fish market. Following the birds and the smell, I found the market without much difficulty and soon was immersed in the stalls of the day’s catch being gutted, sliced, and thrown on ice for customers to peruse. Many types of fish were available in different stages of preparation but all were fresh from the sea.

From here I set off for the main souk to continue my shopping (no, I did not buy any fish—probably would be hard to take back on the plane) but first paid a stop at the main museum. Beginning with paintings of horses in the temporary gallery by a local artist, I moved on to learn about the history of the city. I was unaware that Muscat was one of the ports controlled by the Portuguese during their days of oceanic supremacy until I visited this museum. Littered throughout the city today are the relics of this occupation—forts and watchtowers occupy almost every hill and high point in the city still watching for invaders. After reading about Omani customs, dress, and history, I moved on to the souk for a little shopping and a comparison to the hectic souks of Dubai (to be discussed in a later post).

Though the old souks are predominantly gone, what remains is still quite an experience. Shops crammed side by side in narrow, wooden-arched passages overflow with goods of all shape, size, and manner while the proprietors gladly try to drag you in to view each piece. Though the environment attempts to recreate the old days of spices, pearls, and jewels overflowing from these stalls, the shine on the glass and wood belies the true age of the establishment—this souk is more for tourists than traders. Still, if you are looking for Omani dress or weapons (for example al khanjar, the traditional knife of the Arabic region), this is the place to come. Every other shopkeeper is happy to sell you a dishdasha and Omani cap. My advice to Americans and Europeans though is be careful on prices. Omani riyals, the local currency, are pegged to the dollar such that 1 riyal = $2.75 which means that something which costs 10 riyals may sound like a good price after Dubai (10 dirhams = 1 riyal, or $2.75) but is in fact 10 times what you may be thinking—I had to do this math several times to realize just what I was paying throughout the day. My personal opinion now is that if I controlled a country’s currency, I would want this type of exchange rate so that visitors think prices are cheap (who wouldn’t buy a burger combo for 2 OR?) when in reality, it’s not as good a deal as you think! Or maybe that’s just me…

Anyway, returning from my tangent, from the souk it was off to arguably the best part about Muscat—the Corniche. Now Abu Dhabi has a Corniche too, as do Sharjah and Dubai, but something about the clean, crisp air of Oman wafting gently through your hair combined with the picturesque image of the deep blue sea rolling up to the base of towering hills topped with crumbling 16^th century forts tops any modern city view from the UAE Corniches. I believe I probably could have spent much of the afternoon just strolling, sitting, and enjoying the fresh air here but for the fact that I was on a time budget and determined to see as much of Muscat as humanly possible in one day.

I lingered as long as I could on this beautiful seaside walk, and lucky for me, the road by the ocean wound around the peninsula by the beach to the next sector of Muscat—Muscat proper. As I walked I could enjoy the salty air, the afternoon’s light breeze, and the sound of the waves crashing on the breakers beside me. Along the way, I passed numerous other old Portuguese lookouts on the hills as well as gorgeous rock crags and statues along the nice broad sidewalk. Around one bend, the Portuguese forts gave way to a gleaming marble statue of an incense burner followed around the next bend by a picturesque site of a little seaside town tucked into a pocket between the hills and the water. The bright white of the monument and building were set off perfectly by the beautiful deep blue of the air and water and the rough brown hues of the land. The whole sight was gorgeous and easily enough for a day’s relaxing.

Continuing my walk, I came eventually to the old gate into Muscat which still stands strong and proud welcoming visitors into this old city. Deviating here from the main road, I wandered into a little neighborhood nearby to find another museum on Oman. Here I took in old outfits, weapons, jewelry, and housing styles alongside photos by an Omani photographer. This was yet another nice introduction to Oman’s history and culture and taught me a lot about the importance of clothing, jewelry, and weaponry in identifying with one’s tribal past in the Middle Eastern region. Outside, the view was just as beautiful as the rest of the city with white homes pitted against brown hills with a dash of color from the pink flowers currently in bloom during this mild winter.

Another short walk after this, I found myself at the ruler’s palace. Compared to all of the traditional buildings I had seen in Oman and even the UAE, this was about as far from the traditional style as I could believe. The rich colors contrasted with the white of the surrounding buildings thereby proclaiming the importance of the occupant. In form, the building seemed less regal. Cone-shaped pillars that widen toward the roof welcome entrants into the boxy home with a wide, flat roof. The appearance is very modern relative to the rest of the city or even to a typical ruler’s palace. However, that notion of “typical” may be based on Western conceptions of what creates a regal, stately form and not an Omani conception. In fact, for all I know, this is the epitome of regality in Omani culture. I’ll let you decide.

Around the back of this palace was yet another view of hilly fingers of land reaching into the sea, tipped with Portuguese forts still watching for pirates and traders. This peaceful setting was perfect to bask in the late afternoon sun, breathe deeply the pure air, and listen to the crashing of the waves on the breakers. However after a short stroll, my silence was broken by a taxi driver looking for work, and as it was time to head to the airport and back to Dubai, I employed him. En route, we took a detour to a couple other beaches of Oman to see the five star resorts on the sea, but soon enough I was back in the airport and on a flight to Dubai.

As I crossed back over the now dark border, I pondered the whole day and how different it was from anything I had experienced in Dubai. This city, Muscat, is still comprised of the older mode of development, at least along its coastline. While it does have a growing financial center, it has not monopolized its coast with five star resorts or reclaimed its hills in a mad scramble for an ocean view. Instead, it has retained its character of pearly white buildings nestled gently between the mountains and the ocean. The thick-walled, small-windowed structures are undoubtedly part of the reason that per capita energy use is 4 times less than its ostentatious neighbor (these designs help prevent the scorching heat from getting in) while the white-washed walls represent a smart, simple way to reflect sun and keep the interior nice and cool. These simple, traditional practices have been forgotten in Dubai in favor of the glass boxes that represent a Western notion of modernity. Hopefully Oman will never lose this tradition as it gives Muscat a unique character that is absent in the modern commercialism of neighboring Dubai.

Another major difference worth noting between Oman and the UAE is that every taxi driver I had in Oman (which admittedly was a sample size of 2) was an Omani national. In conversation with them, I learned that this is typical of the country. Omanis occupy most jobs in the nation which is in strict contrast to the UAE where many jobs, especially on the level of taxi drivers and other service professions, are performed by Indians, Pakistanis, or other immigrants. In Dubai this stems from the small population of Emiratis relative to the size of the economy as well as to the social contract that Emiratis have with the government guaranteeing them housing, monetary, and educational benefits by virtue of the citizenship (this stems, I’m told, from a sense that because the oil resources of the nation belong to the nation, each citizen is therefore entitled to a share of the resource and the profit that accrues there from). I’m not sure how these factors play out in the context of Oman (I’d be interested if anyone out there knows!), but my guess would be that the poorer oil resources have not been distributed among the citizens in the same manner and that there are simply more Omanis in the country as a percentage of the population. With a higher percentage of Omanis and a more even distribution throughout the economic strata, it would only be natural that they would occupy a wider range of jobs than do Emiratis in the UAE.

That ends my discussion of Muscat and Oman, but not of my experiences dodging the Immigration authorities in the UAE. Not long before the New Year I was required to once again slip outside the borders of the country to renew my visa status. This time, rather than fly, I accepted the generous offer of my roommate Danny to experience the typical expat visa run via the border at Hatta. So late one morning we jumped in his car and quickly left the staggering heights of the buildings behind on the road to Hatta, a city in the Emirate of Dubai right on the border with Oman. From my limited experience in the UAE along the coast and in Al Ain, I did not consider the country to be mountainous in any real manner. In my experiences between cities, the sands did not change color much nor did they rise above a few feet from the road (save for the sight of Jebel Hafeet, a mountain in Al Ain). Yet on this road, it wasn’t long before Danny and I were surrounded by dunes that he said were great for a quad bike and which had changed from the yellows of the beach to a deeper orange.

Continuing through these, the dunes gave way to veritable hills with rocky outcroppings and protrusions in the distance, a deeper red still than the dunes before. I had never thought that so barren a landscape could be so beautiful, but here was an example of beauty among the sands. Even in my desert experiences in California, the vegetation had provided an element of beauty through gnarled, twisted trees, occasional shrubs, and the even rarer flower. Yet here, the beauty was in the absence of vegetation and the windswept dunes and barren, beaten mountains. Somehow the turmoil of the centuries had sculpted a beautiful landscape.

After another hour or so of riding through this landscape, we crossed the border into Oman. Well, sort of. Apparently you drive through a portion of Oman just to reach Hatta because you don’t leave your car and soon are once more in the Emirate of Dubai where you can find a shopping strip of just about every clay pot you could imagine. Shop after shop sells these pots so that should you decide to shop, you would have no shortage of choice and probably the ability to bargain to your price. After a short ride more, you pass through the small town of Hatta and find the real border.

There are numerous expat fora and sites documenting how to do this border run, but below is our experience for anyone interested. We parked and walked up to the UAE visa office where I was stamped out of the country easily. Danny, as my driver, was allowed to go into the No-Man’s-Land between the countries without the exit stamp provided he didn’t continue into Oman. So we drove the few kilometers to the Omani border checkpoint (which, as a nice plastered building in traditional Omani style made the portable bungalows of the UAE side look shabby) and parked on the No-Man’s-Land side. We walked in and joined the queue (which frustratingly was closed before we reached the window only to reopen after we had joined the back of another queue) waiting to get my visa. A quick 200 AED payment was followed by both entry and exit stamps in my passport, and within half an hour Danny and I were out the door and back in the car. Stopping again at the UAE checkpoint, I got my new UAE visa, no questions asked, and was legal yet again, this time until I would depart by plane.

Well, since we had driven so far out of town for this (expensive) stamp, Danny and I figured we would make a day of it and spend the afternoon exploring the rocky border between the two countries. At no time were we entirely sure which country we were in as it seemed like we crossed back into the unofficial Omani border at least once. However after an hour or so of asking directions and off-road driving (in a small front-wheel drive car), we arrived at the Hatta Rock Pools. While much more impressive after rain (which is very rare), the pools were still a cool collection of smoothed rock formations created over time by the forces of wind and water. As the late afternoon sun slowly dipped to the horizon, we hopped from rock to rock over the pools, stopping where the level was high enough to feel the cool water within. After a while, we reached a point where it was difficult to go further and so stopped to relax, watch the sun set, and reflect on the absolute silence of nature. In a city like Dubai, it is hard to imagine silence sometimes, but out here with the lack of vegetation and animals, you could sit and hear nothing for several minutes. Eventually an unseen bird would shatter the silence with a shrill call, another might respond, but then again would exist nothingness—a perfect void through which the sun slowly sank, its long rays creating cavernous black holes in the rocks around us.

As the sun finally slunk below the horizon, we figured it was time to go before all light was gone and the bumpy road was harder to find. Now that we had blazed the trail the first time out, the road back was easier, and soon we found ourselves at the Hatta Fort Hotel for a nice dinner. Danny said this was his favorite stop en route back to Dubai when he made his border runs, and for both of us, a Scot and an American, the lingering Christmas music, lights, and tree in the dining room provided one last hint of the holiday season.

If you’ve never experienced an empty desert, don’t write it off as barren or ugly. If there is anything that this day showed me, it is that the rolling dunes, windswept hills, and rocky outcrops are not only beautiful in themselves, but can hide pockets of beauty like the Hatta pools within their midst. If you are in Dubai and need a natural escape, steer course for Hatta. Get your visa stamped and then explore the natural beauty as a respite from the bustle and volume of the city. It is well worth the time, provides a great emotional recharge, and if you go with a friend is a wonderful time to chat and share experiences.