Dubai Sleaze or Dubai Dream?
There's something about sleazy hotel bars that fascinates me. I always think of Bill Murray hunched over his whiskey in Tokyo, lost in traslation. The bar in this particular hotel that I am staying in is, for me, a perfect representation of Dubai in all its glory.Let's recount, the bar is called "Rendezvous", a sleazy enough name in itself. The night's entertainment consisted of three Russian women in their early 30s wearing slinky, tight, short bright sparkly gold dresses shimmying around on stage to Arabic songs played by their probably Egyptian keyboardist. They were also singing Arabic songs (impressive), along with Russian and English songs, much to the delight of the crowd. These girls were followed by a Russian belly-dancer with amazing cleavage, much to the delight of said crowd.
And the crowd, what a mix. Khaleeji men in thobes (something tells me mostly Saudi with a few Qataris mixed in), clapping and cheering on these girls like there's no tomorrow. Middle-Aged Russian girls standing around the bar smoking slims furiously, dressed in all sorts of gaudy attire, one enormously fat one yelling "Masha!" at her friend constantly, flirting outrageoulsy with thobed men. Are they prostitutes? Possibly, maybe not though, that's the sad thing.
Another group of thobed men stands at the back of the bar, clapping and laughin racuously, flirting with their Russian whores, saying "ya tebya lyublyu... ya TEBYA lyublyu..." as the very same lyrics of the song are belted form the stage. It's always easier to say "I love you" in another language, just like swearing, you never really feel the impact of your words.
And what about that lone thobed man sitting hunched Bill Murray style over his beer? Looking at everything with a slight bemusement, or is that disdain? Why is he not like his more loose thobed counterparts? What about the group of Indian businessmen, pointing and conversing? What about their African counterparts on the other table? What about the conspicuously American man, sticking out like a sore thumb, with his short-sleeved blue shirt tucked into his light blue jeans and runners on his feet? "Budweiser, thanks", seemingly oblivious to the relatively poor quality of his chosen beer, caught in a subtle patriotic fervour.
What about the serving staff? Filipina barmaids in tiny skirts run around asking if I want another beer and putting nuts in front of me. South Indians behind the bar quite clearly incapable of pouring the beer properly (too much head is bad), let alone knowing the difference in taste between the Danish, Australian, Dutch, Belgian and American offerings on tap.
In fact the only nationalities seemingly conspicuously absent from this bar are Western Europeans. Perhaps they prefer sleaze in Spain, Italy or Eastern Europe, something a little closer to home?
What is it about this place? Is it the sleazy dim lighting? The ridiculously loud music? The wood-grain as far as the eye can see? Is it my table? With its Aussie beer branded coasters, American beer branded advertising, Indian beer branded ashtray, Danish beer branded receptacle holding my Belgian beer which is slowly emptying?
Those who think these bars are confined to the sorts of hooker pickup hotels you find on the appropriately titled Exhibition Avenue in Bahrain, dont fool yourself, this is a four star hotel.
What are these people doing here anyway? It's a freakin' Tuesday night. Are they looking for some entertainment on a business trip? Looking to escape their family back in Saudi, buyoed by the relative freedom and control their society bestows upon them? Are they looking for action? Money? Are they lonely?
As I sit on my balcony looking out over the street below, typing this, trying to picture in my mind's eye the goings on of "Rendezvous", I hear a distinctly female Russian voice calling, almost pleading, from below... "Masha... Masha... Slushai menya (listen to me)" Lonely indeed.
For those people that said Dubai is a city with no soul, maybe it doesn't have one heartbeat, but it has many, all so segregated yet thrown together, chasing something but no one really knows what. The reclusively wealthy, above-it-all Emiratis? The fornicating Saudis? The sore-thumb Americans? The desperate, tactless but endearingly confident Russian girls? The curious but aloof Indian businessmen? The poor labourers eking out a meaghre living? The Egyptian concierges and hotel staff, smiling and smarming their way through the day? And many, many more... All chasing something. Dubai is the land of opportunity of the East.This is the Dubai dream.
Labels: dubai, people, travel, voyeur
posted by LX @ 3:57 AM
Comments: 3
