Source: New Zealand Herald, 17 May 2010. Written by 'William Butler' a pseudonym for a writer who lived in Dubai for four years.
The article, unlike so many others, is the viewpoint of someone who's lived here, not just flown in for 3 days and immediately become an expert. While some quotes in the article are just too convenient, he appears to know what goes on here, and he knows (possibly too much) about the topic he discusses.
Its also the first time I've seen anyone write about the Dubai phenomenon of the "Summer Bachelor"; the married man left on his own in Dubai while his wife and family returns to the home country for the Northern Hemisphere school holidays. Ye Gods, another summer looms here and no woman, even an old one, will be safe. Scene last summer: empty Costas, me at table reading WWE wrestling magazine and drinking my coffee. A bloke with coffee in hand approaches, "Can I sit here?" as he indicates the seat next to me. I look around at the otherwise deserted coffee bar, think "*%^$!" but smile, "Sure" I say. As he plonks his middle aged backside on the seat I pick up my bag, coffee and wrestling mag and move to a table on the other side of the room. Maaaaate! Anyway here's the article:
=====================================
The bosomy blonde in a tight, low-cut evening dress slid on to a barstool next to me and began the chat: Where are you from? How long are you here? Where are you staying?"
I asked her what she did for a living. "You know what I do," she replied. "I'm a whore."
As I looked around the designer bar on the second floor of the glitzy five-star hotel, it was obvious that every woman in the place was a prostitute. And the men were all potential punters, or at least window-shoppers.
While we talked, Jenny, from Minsk in Belarus, offered me "everything, what you like, all night" for the equivalent of about $1000.
I turned down the offer.
This was not Amsterdam's red-light district. This was in the city centre of Dubai, the Gulf emirate where Western women get a month in prison for a peck on the cheek; the Islamic city on Muhammad's peninsula where the muezzin's call rings out five times a day drawing believers to prayer; where public consumption of alcohol prompts immediate arrest; where adultery is an imprisonable offence; and where mall shoppers are advised against "overt displays of affection", such as kissing.
Ayman Najafi and Charlotte Adams, the couple recently banged up in Al Awir desert prison for a brief public kiss, must have been very unlucky indeed, because in reality Dubai is a heaving maelstrom of sexual activity. It is known by some residents as "Sodom-sur-Mer".
Beach life, cafe society, glamorous lifestyles, fast cars and deep tans are all things associated with "romance" in the fog-chilled minds of Europeans and North Americans.
And there is a fair amount of legitimate "romance" in Dubai. Western girls fall for handsome, flash Lebanese men; male visitors go for the dusky charms of women from virtually anywhere. Office and beach affairs are common. But most of the "romance" in Dubai is paid-for sex, accepted by expatriates as the norm, and to which a blind eye is turned - at the very least - by the authorities.
The bar where "Jenny" approached me was top-of-the-range, where expensively dressed and coiffured girls can demand top dollar from wealthy businessmen or tourists. Virtually every five-star hotel has a bar where "working girls" are tolerated, even encouraged, to help pull in men with cash to blow. But it goes downhill from there.
At sports and music bars, Filipinas vie with the Russians and women from the former Soviet republics for custom at lower prices. In the older parts of the city, Deira and Bur Dubai, Chinese women undercut them all in the lobbies of three-star hotels.
It is impossible to estimate accurately the prostitute population of Dubai. But what makes Dubai prostitution different is the level of acceptance it has by the clients and, apparently, the city's Islamic authorities. Although strictly illegal under United Arab Emirates' and Islamic law, it is virtually a national pastime.
I have seen a 15cm-high stack of application forms in the offices of a visa agent, each piece of paper representing a hopeful "tourist" from Russia, Armenia or Uzbekistan. The photographs are all of women in their 20s seeking one-month visas for a holiday in the emirate.
Maybe young Aida from Tashkent will find a few days' paid work as a maid or shop assistant while she's in Dubai. But most nights she will be selling herself in the bars and hotels and the immigration authorities know that. So must the visa agent, who gets his cut out of each £300 visa fee.
All UAE nationals are entitled to a number of residence visas, which they routinely use to hire imported domestics, drivers or gardeners. But they will sell the surplus to middlemen who trade them on to women who want to go full-time and permanent in the city. The higher the social and financial status of the Emirati, the more visas he has to "farm".
Thousands of women buy entitlement to full-time residence, and lucrative employment, in this way. Three years in Dubai - the normal duration of a residence visa - can be the difference between lifelong destitution and survival in Yerevan, Omsk or Bishkek.
It also ensures a convenient supply of sex for Emiratis. The other big category of punters is Europeans and Americans, and it is remarkable how quickly it all seems normal.
A few drinks with the lads on a Thursday night, maybe a curry, some semi-intoxicated ribaldry, and then off to a bar where you know "that" kind of girl will be waiting. In the West, peer group morality might frown on such leisure activities, but in Dubai it's as normal as watching the late-night movie.
In the long, hot summer, wives and families escape the heat by going to Europe or the US, and the change that comes over the male expat population is astounding. Middle-aged men in responsible jobs - accountants, marketeers, bankers - who for 10 months of the year are devoted husbands, transform in July and August into priapic stallions. Tales are swapped over a few beers the next night, positions described, prices compared, nationalities ranked according to performance. It could be the Champions League we are discussing, not paid-for sex.
In my experience, many men will be unfaithful if they have the opportunity and an expectation that they will not be found out. For expats in Dubai, the summer months provide virtual laboratory conditions for infidelity.
There is the Indonesian maid who makes it apparent that she has no objection to extending her duties, for a price; the central Asian shop assistant who writes her mobile number on the back of your credit card receipt "in case you need anything else"; the Filipina manicurist at the hairdresser's who suggests you might also want a pedicure in the private room.
Sodom-sur-Mer is flourishing. But would-be snoggers beware - your decadent behaviour will not be tolerated.
No comments:
Post a Comment