The Ambassador

I've got nothing topical to write about this week so I thought I'd just write a story about life here as an expat in the UAE. 

When I came here I had a few concerns about how much my liberal Aussie lifestyle would have to be modified for my new life in the Islamic Sheikdom of the UAE. I did as much research as I could about the laws and the customs and basically what would get me in trouble. Most of my research was the result of Googling "Arrested UAE OR Dubai OR Abu Dhabi" and seeing what people had been nicked for. 

It was usually drink driving (jail then deportation), bouncing a cheque (jail then deportation) or drug importation (four years jail then deportation). So I thought I was pretty safe if I didn't do those things, but still I tried to be careful. After all, it is technically illegal to drink alcohol without a license, or share an apartment with a women who is not your wife or have bum sex (I have only broken one of those laws so far). 

After living here for a while though I've learnt that a lot of these rules are just there to appease the Muslim neighbours and give the cops something to make sure they get you with should you do anything serious or stupid enough to get attention. For example, everyone has been talking about that British couple that got arrested for having sex on a beach in Dubai. Absolutely stupid obviously, but if you look at it closely they actually got away with murder. 

Firstly they were caught by a policeman having sex (or close to it) on a public beach in broad daylight in an Islamic country... and he gave them a warning. They then got back on it because they were fucking idiots and were then confronted again, got in an altication with the cop, who most likely just wanted them to fuck off back to a hotel room and not cause him any trouble, and they were arrested. 

Now they were up on the radar. They got charged with public indecency, sex outside of marriage, consuming alcohol and probably a few others. In the end though, after being out on bail for a few months, they got 3 months jail, they then appealed that (by this time the sole charge was consuming alcohol) and got off with a 1000 Dirham fine ($400 Aussie) and deportation. What's a trip back to the UK from Dubai worth nowadays? Hell of a lot more than $400 Aussie dollar. So basically they got off, for being caught shitfaced drunk having sex on a beach in the daytime in Islamic Dubai. I started to think that things here were not as strict as the government websites had led me to believe. 

I've got to say though that the reason these people got off was because they are Western expats. If they had been Indian they would have gotten four years each and scimitar up the arse. The western (and by definition rich) expat gets afforded privileges that I have found extend further than priority check-in at the airport. I've previously mentioned the hierarchy that exists here, but the get-almost-out-of-jail-free status definitely ends with the Western expat. Everyone else is prison fodder. 

Which leads me to my personal story. The other night an Aussie mate and I were out at one of the seedier Dubai nightspots enjoying a surprisingly good cover band and some predictably shite beer. We noticed a very drunken yank staggering around the pub seemingly trying to knock into everyone he could. In Oz he would have been out on his arse by this point but the bouncers were staying in their respective corners and not making a move on him. This tweaked my interest, specifically how much it would take to get this guy thrown out of the place. My Aussie mate, who I shall call Peter, was also interested and we started watching the bloke. 

He next moved onto the dancefloor and started swaying and jumping around like a fuckwit. Still no move from the boys in black. He then moved up towards the band and started yelling alternating compliments and insults at them from a distance of a few feet. Still nothing. He seemed to get bored of the band and decided to do handstands on the dance floor, trying to bend his skyward feet over his head and rest them on the handrail. To his credit, the man must have been a gymnast because to he pulled the maneuver off while clearly being drunker than an Irishman on Christmas morning. Finally the bouncer moved in. Surely this man is about to be turfed we thought. 

But no, the bouncer came over and politely asked him to restrict his dancing to non-inverted poses and was on his way, although I did notice he didn't stray too far. Drunkard seemed to appreciate the bouncers leniency and ran up to him, arms astreched, giving him a huge bear hug and trying to lift him off the ground. Surely we though, this is it, this guy is out. But no, the bouncer seemed to thank him for the gesture and stood back. Clearly this man was as interested in pushing the boundaries as we were in watching him do it because the next move he made was to grab the bouncer by the head with both hands and plant a huge kiss on his lips. This would get you easily hospitalized at most Aussie nightspots but again the bouncer did nothing but smile and leave the man to dance. 

We both realised that it would probably take stabbing a barmaid to get these bouncers to take any sort of action so we turned our attention to the man of the hour. I had previously labeled him as a yank due to his dress. Sandals, shorts, muscle top and backwards baseball cap, but Peter suggested that he might not be a yank, in fact he might be an Aussie. A 100 Dirham bet was struck as only bar sessions can produce and then Peter was off to make the identification. 

Catching the drunkard mid stagger he placed an arm around him to steady his gait and said "How's it going?", to which the 'yank' replied "G'day mate". He was a bogan from the Goldie. 

I still call Australia home.