FYI- I've posted some photos of my first day in Dubai, when I walked around Dan's neighborhood, the Marina, and Jumeira Beach... I'm pretty pleased with how the photos turned out... a few notes: the blog posts them virtically; and most of them are panoramas posted in sequential order; so if you don't mind tilting your head or your screen, hopefully you can enjoy them as well.
So anyway, Friday, January 22nd. The morning of the Dubai Marathon, and our great task at hand, the 6.2 mile 10k race. By this point I'm in pretty sorry shape- I haven't really run in about 2 weeks, so while my expecations are low, my principles won't allow me to just slog through this thing at some relatively pedestrian pace- I have to give an honest effort, no matter how bad of shape I'm in. That said, I know I am in for nothing less than a world of pain. A World of Pain.
It's an early wake-up call for Dan and I, 5:30 Emirate time, which is 3:30 Jordan/Syria/Lebanon time. This, plus staying up until midnight updating my pedantic pontifications, means I didn't sleep very much. Big F'ing Deal. I'm still doing this. I'm doing this and I'm going to like it.
I'll say one thing for road races, especially for a town with seemingly few parks and open public spaces free of consumer capitalism, something like this really brings the place together. Pretty cool seeing 15,000 people wandering around getting ready to participate in something together.
So long story short- the results are in, and you can see for yourself, but I got 6th overall, which I'm pretty proud of all things considered. It hurt real bad, and I was glad to finish. And my time should be about 40 seconds better, because it took Dan and I that long to get across the starting line... they use a timing system that is supposed to compensate for that, Dan's time was calibrated for it, mine wasn't, not sure why... so really I could've placed even higher, maybe have earned some money. So maybe I could pick up a bar tab. Everyone here's been extraordinarily generous, especially my good buddy Dan. Thanks again, good buddy Dan.
So after this exhausting adventure, we've actually got a pretty jam packed social schedule planned for the day- off to somebody's very nice looking condo with a full frontal view of the Burj Dubai (now Burj Khalifa) Tower, also known as the tallest building in the world (to date). Didn't bring my camera. Anyway, the party's to celebrate anyone who participated in the race, specifically the folks in the residence that ran the marathon. Great food, lots of booze. Great time, mostly just chilling out in the back yard listing to people tell all kinds of interesting stories. Lots of interesting people here, doing lots of interesting things, mostly saving oil-rich, logistically incompitent countries from themselves by suggesting different ways to spend their massive resources in order to improve their respective economies and infrastructure. A lot of fancy MBAs, and Masters Degrees in Public Policy. So that's what they do...
In the interests of saving myself some time, I'll try to be brief: The party moved from the condo, to a very posh Sushi restaurant (Oku- very tasty, if overpriced); to a Karaoke bar; to a Philippino dive bar Dan and friends used to frequent quite often(so they do exist in Dubai... as well as the kind of culture and soul I described earlier that I was afraid was sorely lacking here); to one final destination, another bar in another hotel that functions for all intents and purposes as a brothel. That's right. A Bordelo. Dark; smokey; loud music; lazer lights; pretty much just a sleezy sports bar/dance club; just that there's something else available on tap, if you're willing to pay for it. Just free-market economics at perhaps it's most raw, basic, fundamental level. One has money; the other provides a service; You either want it or you don't. I didn't. It wasn't my idea to go there... though I can't accuse anyone of dragging me in... All very interesting, though. For one thing, I'd never been approached by that many women in one evening; Like a strip club, except they don't take off their clothes. Not there anyway. All in pretty much plain clothes. Nothing even all that suggestive. Very flirtatious, some rather charming in fact. I guess they'd have to be. Mostly from different parts of Africa and East Asia. It couldn't be verified if any of them had pimps, or if the hotel, by virtue of providing a platform for this marketplace, took a cut of anything (like Amazon!); I don't know if anyone chooses this kind of 'profession' entirely out of free will... but it appeared that they were all, well, independent contractors... Who knows the whole story... interesting footnote: it's been said the women have been known to get angry when guys bring their girlfriends with them- They get angry at the girlfriends- They're bad for business...
So maybe I have hepatitis or something now from being in a room full of prostitutes. Not sure how it works. Certainly quite a skyrocketing progression in terms of the changes of venue. Perhaps inversely skyrocketing. Into the ground. Depends on how you want to look at it. In any case, an interesting finish to a very long, exciting, interesting day.
Again, I didn't have my camera, so no, I didn't take any pictures.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment