Walk a mile or few in my shoes

'No evil' series

Life is neither good or evil, but only a place for good and evil.

"Evil is, good or truth misplaced." Mohandas Gandhi

Supporting the local arts

The 1st from the right, top row earned a spot in my living room

For the love of lightning

When rage is all the rage

Published in The National on Jan 9, 2010 

No one in their right minds likes rush hour traffic. And to those of us who have been delightfully cruising the capital's streets, I'm not breaking any news here when I state that the roads are like a fun-filled obstacle course. I have yet to understand what those random wicks sticking out of the tar in front of Abu Dhabi Mall are for. Lines on the pavement not working anymore? Don't even get me started on detours, they seem to spread like a bad virus and show no signs of a cure!

But you tell yourself, rush hour doesn't have to be that stressful. And by comparison to some roads in other congested cities, jams here are not that bad. There is usually a certain rhythm to traffic here. It's a unique, modern ballet of cars, zipping in and out. We settle into the ever fluctuating speed limit, work as a team; it's stress-free, and then, wham! Road etiquette goes out the window and reality hits; you've entered the wild, wild Middle East traffic twilight zone.

Just try changing lanes if you dare without shouting out, "Would it kill you to allow me to enter the lane without ripping my door off?!" You look around at the sea of international driving codes converging. "Get off the phone, you jerk, you're going to kill somebody". You wish a police officer was standing close by, so a fine could be issued. Would it kill people to stay focused on what they are doing behind the wheel? As you venture further, you find yourself rapidly becoming this monster and spouting out things like, "You idiot, get out of the left lane!" or "Do you even know what brakes are for?" or my personal favourite: "Your car has more intelligence than you do."

Oh dear, I've turned into Michael Douglas from Falling Down, minus the shotgun. Bottled up and buried deep inside, road rage can be dangerous. You tend to look -and act - like a pressure pot that spews steam and whistles madly. Allowing yourself to express it in a controlled manner, however, can ease that pent-up tension. Now, do keep in mind that, as a general rule, road rage should never involve violence and one should never try to use one's vehicle in an aggressive way. And for those of you who are used to certain gestures, do resist the temptation because here, more so than foul driving, that can get you arrested.

For healthier, safer and jail-free modes of release, a prescription of yelling comfortably in the private confines of your air-conditioned vehicle would be advised. Normally I would encourage pumping up the volume during your favourite song. However, since the day a man in a car beside me yelled at me to lower my music that he found offensive, I would be very cautious to not trigger alternate road rage buttons in others.

Because we all have plenty of reasons to feel a little stressed out. Personally, I find that expressing road rage can be healthy. To a point.

 psantos@thenational.ae

Yaki! My trusty UAE wheels

Watch what drivers do when they don't think they're being watched

Published in The National  March, 20, 2010 

How do people behave when they think nobody is watching? Especially when they are driving and think that metal bubble of their car somehow shields themselves from public view, whether the windows are tinted or not. I like to delude myself that human beings have some basic notion of what is considered bad driving or dangerous. Surely no one in their right mind would make a sudden move across three lanes without signalling. That'd be out of the question, wouldn't it? Sadly, it seems this sort of behaviour is only out of the question in the fantasy land of my mind. 

Arriving at the outskirts of Dubai, that notion quickly fades as I face near-insurance encounters at least three times within 100 metres of Jebel Ali. Of late, I have come to experience this Dubai traffic at close hand on a daily basis and, my, my, how people behave badly when they think no one is looking!. I have seen some bad behaviour on the capital's semi-neat street grid, but Dubai seems to attract some jaw-dropping antics on its endless merry-go-round of streets that criss-cross over the city's main artery, Sheikh Zayed Road. That one impressive lifeline seems to force all drivers to form queues at exits no matter where you want to head in the city. Failing to catch that crucial exit will lead to yet another time-wasting detour sucking away a tad more of your already falling fuel tank levels.

As a newbie to Dubai, I'm usually too busy to pay attention to crazy things going on, except when I am immediately endangered. But when I am at home, it's a different story. Sipping coffee on my balcony overlooking Sheikh Zayed Road, I can traffic-watch to my heart's content. The other day, I just knew one adventurous driver believed he wasn't being watched. My mouth dropped open as I watched him back out of an exit to the left side of the service road, reverse a few hundred meters further until he reached the main road and then calmly continued on his way towards Abu Dhabi. After snapping out of the shock, I wondered why I hadn't done the same manoeuvre the night before instead of taking that huge petrol-guzzling, time consuming detour to get onto the main road. Who'd be watching anyway?

It's the same "nobody's watching" mentality that makes leaving your car parked pretty much anywhere fraught with danger. If you fail to chaperone your four-wheeled buddy, you soon learn that your poor vehicle can't really fend for himself. Like my Yaris, which ended up a victim of a bumper-assisted parking episode while patiently waiting for me while I was at the movies. Nobody was watching, so who cares, right?

As I surveyed the damage to my car I thought how the driver was very lucky that I hadn't witnessed his or her appalling parking abilities. Then there was the agents of law enforcement I watched parade up and down the JBR Walk in a golf cart one Sunday afternoon. The officer behind the wheel spun around while carrying on a lively conversation on his mobile phone. Surely he must have realised people were watching. Perhaps it was the golf cart that stopped him from setting the example. Perhaps laws on driving golf carts along pedestrian ways are different. Perhaps I am just mistaken, it's not only when people are not watching that humans misbehave. It's just when we happen to forget ourselves.

Rocking all round Oman

Published in The National Jun 26, 2010

A few weekends ago, I wandered across the Omani border. It was my first drive from Dubai to Muscat and I asked a friend for some advice - is it a hard drive? Would I get hopelessly lost? She informed me it was as easy as following the Hatta signs off Sheikh Zayed Road. Sure enough, it was that simple, and I hit the border crossing at Hatta in little more than an hour. Once across the border, its really one long straight shot right to Muscat. I was warned by my friend that the only bends on the road would be several roundabouts that break up an otherwise undeviating road. That information couldn't have been more on the dot. For me, Muscat will forever lie three-and-a-half hours and 23 roundabouts across the Emirati border (yes, I counted...). And what roundabouts they are! While our Traffic Warden reported last week that the UAE seems to be eliminating them, our neighbours seem to revel in roundabouts.

In Oman, these delights are the real eye candy on the roads. It's hard not to slow down and take in the boats, greenery, gazebos; all decked out in lively colors and, my personal favourite, roundabout number seven, a splendid mini globe which brought back memories of Saudi and the huge globe down Malek Road. The landscape was very different and roadsides were, for the most part, green and well-kept. Along the way, I saw people parked under trees for afternoon naps. I was worried there would be traces of the recent cyclone. I couldn't help but imagine Moby, my Nissan Sunny, heading for a dive along the Omani roads. Happily, the only hint of a cyclone were signs that warned to "Stop if water on red" in front of red and white poles stuck in the ground. I saw no danger of water levels reaching the red lines, which was good as Moby has no experience in waddling through water, even if he is named after a whale.

It was a comfortable drive, except for the naughty truckers. These gents proved to be the exception to the tranquilty of Oman. I eased on my brakes to avoid close encounters with lorry drivers who constantly overtook their slower counterparts. But overall, the driving made me aware that I wasn't in the UAE anymore. I witnessed only one tailgate attempt - perhaps people in Oman aren't in such a hurry.

The lack of signalling was still common, but the need to move was seldom as everyone kept reasonable speeds and the traffic flowed. In Oman, manners have a solid presence. Flash cars are not a big thing here - I saw but one Bentley, two Porsche Cayennes and a couple of Lexuses and Mercs. Licence plates in the lower digits were not the dish du jour either. I thought of friends who insist on flying to Muscat and wondered why. Besides the ornate road delights, what you save opting for a road trip compared to a flight makes all the difference. And garages throughout Oman accepted our dirhams, which made things easier. Directions aren't so much of a problem, especially if you are used to spinning around Dubai.

A grand total of Dh160 on petrol, nearly four hours of funky sights and easy, relaxed driving make for a winning formula in my book. Next time you consider a weekend getaway, take a road trip to Muscat. It lies just three-and-a-half hours and 23 roundabouts across the border from Dubai.

Gassing up for Omani road-trip!

The Wanderer

One shall never feel lost within one’s steps, comfortably settling upon softer surfaces, nestled within their own outlines.... Carefully registering a pulse that exists within a fierce spirit, seemingly untamed, guided by faith & an untempered sense of passion. (...)

If you find my soul rich in care and poetry for it’s breath, allow it its rhythm, for it wanders before me and warms my place of homely comforts... Inside me, around me... Beyond me. My everything without question, my soul, my spirit, my Me in every sense. 

Though I might fail to recognize it at first, the reaches of slow breathe shall induce such sensations that render my soul to sheer ecstasy... I am one at last. Fearless we push forth as a union that shatters at nothing. Caution is at best, a temptation to be ignored... 

Passion claims us and hereafter lust shall reign. Lust for the life within, unexplored and, until this moment never sought.  (...)

Clinging with bare skin to the coolness that surrounds this state, I tremble but for an instant. Giving way to the power that I strangely understand... Now I am awake, now I am present, bare but complete... This night’s end shall bring wonders beyond my wildest dreams. I shall conquer, I shall reign in absolute. Fear me not... 

I welcome the vastness of an abyss that tempts me and coils around my body. Fragile as I may seem to the world, it merely teeters, teases me... I yearn for it and seek it ferociously. Give me not a steady footing.  Grant me the exquisite condition of human desire and keep it just beyond my reach. That which drives me shall always be a part of me. That part never explored, never felt, never before this moment loved and adored. (...)

Missing my GCC home...

 Remembering life in the Middle East. Pictured is friend's cat in Dubai.... On the outside, looking in....