Sylvia's Journal

It is September 11 here and the day went by as if nothing happened 9 years ago. The thought hit me, when I looked up towards the top of the Bourj Khalifa that exploding such a tall building would be impossible. Everyone thought so in New York also; now it is possible and I imagined whether it would be possible here. Somehow I think not. Nine/eleven remains entirely American, unfortunately.

At a more personal level we are experiencing old age with its accompanying health problems in ways we would never have imagined. Our one day in Dubai was partially taken up by healthcare inquiries. We spent several hours researching whether a gallbladder can be safely removed in Dubai, whether the insurance pays for it and how to manage this when you don’t live here.

We visited the American Hospital of Dubai. It was closed for the holiday weekend but gave us enough confidence, just by the look of it, that Axel can imagine having his gall bladder taken out there in the next few months.I also discovered that it has one of four worldwide joint replacement centers of excellence (Holland, Spain and Britain being the other three). This may come in handy as my knees, long known to be bone grating on bone, are increasingly painful.

We are staying in a fancy hotel, exquisitely decorated, expensive for walk-ins, less so through booking.com. There is much competition for hotel guests in Dubai and we benefit as a result. It has a glass enclosed bathtub in the middle of the room and a TV rotunda that can be turned so you can watch TV from the bed, the tub or the toilet.

It is also at a stone’s throw of a Disney-like complex of old Arab souks and fortresses, the largest building in the world and one of the largest shopping malls in the world.

We hit the peak of the Eid shopping frenzy with tens of thousands of people from all over the world converging for the ultimate shopping experience. Strange enough, we ran into my colleague Peter and his wife who took advantage of a long holiday week to escape Kabul for a bit.

It is still too hot to walk around outside and malling is thus the only option other than staying in one’s air-conditioned hotel room. We ate well and marveled at everything that can be had here, for a price.

We also admired how the young Dubai women have managed to turn the drab black abaja into more of a gift wrap, richly decorated, slightly transparent offering hints of what is hidden beneath. It is actually quite clever how they have managed to make their cloaks into fashion statements without violating the principal idea.

I finally had my foot massage that I so badly wanted in Enkhuizen, from a young Philippino woman who is supporting her community back home with her salary, getting people clothes, healthcare and school fees. Living here is difficult but the money is good and in a mega mall like this (the Dubai Mall) the demand for foot massages, from men and women alike, is never in doubt.