This truly is what Sun Tsu must have meant when he wrote his epos, mistakenly kown as The Art of War. Same thing really, when you think about it. Both actions require a fair amount of planning whish, in turn, could lead to disastrous or victorious results.
In my life, the later I start, the better it usually gets.
I usually begin when I am half an hour late to the airport already. I run through my apartment yelling and jumping around, picking up things that are strewn around the place as I go. And it usually turns out quite well.
The thing is, that the stuff that is laying around is of course, all my favorite things to wear.
TA fucking DA!!!!!
But in this case, right here right now, with one day to go until I leave for Dubai, I am making all the newbie mistakes I used to do when I was about 16 and my world travels began.
My first mistake being the fact that I have already started packing. I can tell already from the massive pile of clothes that is towering ever higher in my bedroom that this is going to be BAD.
I knew I should have gone out drinking instead.
Left the house, taken a road trip... anything but this.
For the record, I blame my boyfriend.
I am meeting him in Dubai on Wednesday night, and since he lives in dear old Pittsburgh, PA and I live in Sweden... I don't really get to see him that often which is why I am getting my panties all in a twist (literally) about this silly little trip to the United Arab Emirates.
Wondering, "perhaps he wants to see me in this", or "Do I look fat in that?", instead of just packing whatever is comfortable in the desert and leaving out the items that will offend the locals.
My dear, sweet Rasheed, you had better stare at me in awe every friggin day or there will be hell to pay!
Just wanted to let you know ...
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I'm really enjoying your blog :-).
Good luck with your guy!
I thought Dubai was the liberal outpost of hte Middle East and so no clothing would offend people ... did I get it wrong?
D
you mean instead of getting stoned for showing too much cleavage or holding my boyfriend's hand in public, you simply get frowned upon, then yeah, they are very liberal. It's not the getting thrown in the slammer part I worry about. I really do hate to make mistakes tourists make just because I didn't pay enough attention.
Like the last time I was there and I thought I did everything by the book: In order to buy alcohol in Duabi you have to have a special liqour licence, stating that you are non muslim, so I got one, happily managed to find this den of sin with no signs or wiondows (since it is illegal to advertize for booze) and made my purchase with a great deal of confidence I might add.
Then the lady behind the counter (Indian lady, ergo non-muslim) raised her finger in warning and told me to be very careful.
"Why?"
"Because this is not your licence madam, (I had borrowed it from my friend Henrik, a 200lb bald Swedish man, thinking one infidel easily passes for another down here) and I noticed that since you are walking home, you should know that it is illegal to carry alcohol in the street".
(gulp)
"Oh... that's... ahem.. quite alright.. thanks anyway."
I have never run so fast in my entire life as I did that day, my plastic bags making noticeable clinking noises for every stride I took.
Paranoia kicking in, sweat pouring down my face as I saw cops on every corner, visions of Arab prisons fillingmy head as I fumbled for the key and let myself into the apartment, at which point my buddy Henrik greets me with a friendly:
"Would you mind running back out for some more beers?"
What great stories you have!
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Hilarious!
I guess they can distinguish people's faces, or at least a male face from a female.
And I guess photo IDs work since you're not a muslim and don't wear a burqua. I suppose you couldn't have bought alcohol with one on since that would have made you muslim?
Oops
:-).
Wow, you must be there by now. I hope you'll send us a few pictures!
D