Something in the air...

Well it’s been an interesting couple weeks, finally met the guys from the Netherlands who were good fun, seeing Marty the technical whiz in his element is pretty awesome I quickly came to the conclusion that he has the same effect on IT geeks (I can say that right?) as Angelina Jolie has on young men except for only their mouths dropped they don’t actually drool, that would have just been plain and simple nasty. Edu on the other hand was the personification of a ‘cool cat’ watching and observing his prey patiently and when the time was right POW! He would hit them with a point so authoritative that it left them quietly pondering, where had we been all there lives… Oh by the way turns out Marty is a semi-professional dancer, so not just brains but the boy can move! Owwww (Michael Jakcson sound) though on this occasion I wasn’t able to persuade him to show us ‘what he was made of’ but I did think I had cracked it in TGI’s only for him to slip out of the net again! I know you read this Blog Mr. Just remember that I am scheduling another visit for you while we speak and this time I will make sure you can’t slip through! J

So most of the week was spent with the guys which was good as I was missing the common sense of humor that we Europeans enjoy, well apart from the Germans… I swear they taught us at school that the Germans don’t have a sense of humor or was it the French??? Ah well, not that it matters seeing as I am in the Middle East. So yeah in between hosting the Oranges (Dutch) and trying to close some business, a revolution broke out in Tunisia taking much of North Africa with it and ended up somewhere in Egypt (Hosni, looks like time is up) Oh and on the side line the political landscape in Lebanon got turned upside down in the space of a 2 days and now looks like the country is heading for a spot on the United States of America’s official axis of evil list, oh what a splendid achievement. Which brings me onto the topic of this evening that ever prevalent topic of ‘Politics’ or more prominently I should say ‘Politicians’ after all they are the ones who fail to get the politics right, right? Come on think about it after the events of the past few weeks here in the MEA and around the world in general it really makes one think is there such a thing as a good politician? In fact I was asking myself that very question as I walked back to my apartment and the only one that kept creeping into my mind was that little Papa Smurf lookalike, you know what his name… That’s it! Lula of Brazil! Coming to think about it the man was a revolution in himself almost single handedly dragging Brazil out of the ‘slums’ and into the positions of one of the world’s fastest growing economies. And then to top it off he bowed out like a real hero, well done sir. But that was it, I couldn’t actually think of anyone else, not a single politician. Well actually there is Asif Ali Zardari of Pakistan but I am not sure if I can talk explicitly about his achievements as I don’t think we are passed the watershed just yet.

I think in order to understand the modern day ‘politician’ we have to look a little deeper into the whole scenario, now I don’t know if it is true or not but apparently the world ‘Politics’ actually derives from the Latin ‘Poly’ meaning ‘many’ and tics being ‘blood sucking insects’. Thus the modern day politicians are nothing more than a bunch of blood sucking creatures, which if you ask many of the repressed masses here in the region would happily agree with. Egypt for example, I only read today that over 50% of the population lives on less than $2 per day which is below the international poverty line. But my biggest frustration is trying to figure out exactly what these people do especially the individuals or groups that assume the central role of leadership. The other thing which I cannot seem to fathom is why the majority of world leaders are incredibly wealthy businesses men, does being good at business automatically qualify you to be successful as the leader of your nation?? Take a lesson from the Brazilians, Lula was from the working class when he won the elections and assumed power and turned his peoples fortunes right round… maybe there is a lesson in that. After all it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that people confine, trust and relate more in someone who has come from the same place as them (not literally) and likewise an individual who was born with a silver spoon in his or her mouth or acquired it at some point along the line and is refined for the finer things in life, is hardly going to be able to genuinely and sincerely solace with someone living on $2 per day. And perhaps it’s not their fault. Perhaps their lives are so different the privileges are so vast between the 2 personalities that it is impossible for the well off to understand let alone feel the pain of the common folk.

Now being a self made billionaire and running a country is one thing, but sitting in a seat of power and usurping the ‘bait al maal’ the wealth of the people for decades while they struggle on a daily basis is quite something else and deserves nothing less than the wrath of the people as we have witnessed over the last few days. After all, I often struggle to understand what politicians are actually paid to do?? I mean look around you the world is an increasingly dangerous place with each passing day and the very individuals or governments that claim to be responsible for keeping the peace and order are in fact the ones who cunningly stoke the flames, ask Noam Chomsky he will tell you what I am talking about.

And while the majority of the World’s inhabitants find themselves lost not really knowing who to turn to or what to follow, a caravan of men, women and children black clad, numbering millions make a journey by foot to the shrine of a man who was killed some 1400 years ago by a despotic regime very much like those of today a man whose name sung sends infants to sleep, a man whose name chanted brings grown men to tears, a man who continues to live in the hearts of so many faithful followers, a man who needs no introduction or mention for that matter. For those who want to know him already know him.

On the occasion marking the 40^th day since the sacrifice of Karbala, I send my deepest condolences to all the faithful and all those who stand up against oppression and injustice wherever they find it rearing its ugly head.

Be it by mind, mouth or action.

May you rest in peace O’ Hussein

O Mustazafin (deprived, oppressed) of the world!

I wasn’t really going to post tonight, but as I sit on my sofa reading a book I just happen to come across words so pertinent! That despite my drowsiness it is my moral obligation to share with you…

‘Let me say at this point that this politico-religious testament of mine is not made with the noble people of Iran only. Rather, it is recommended for all Islamic nations and the oppressed peoples of the world regardless of religion or nationality…’

‘O Mustazafin (deprived, oppressed) of the world! O Muslims and muslim countries of the world! Arise and wrest your right by your teeth and fingernails! Never mind the rigmarole and propaganda cries of the superpowers and their puppets! Drive out from your lands your wicked rulers who hand over your wages to your enemies and the enemies of Islam. Yourselves and the dedicated Public servants should take charge of the affairs of your country. Gather together, all of you under the proud banner of Islam and fight the enemies of Islam and of the deprived peoples of the world. Advance toward an Islamic sovereign government with so many free and independent republics. If you realize this, the arrogant powers shall retreat to their rightful positions and all the Mustazafin will come to inherit the earth and attain to guardianship over it. Look forward to the day when God’s Promise shall be fulfilled!’

(Wassalam-o-Alaikum wa Ala Idabillah-e-salehin.)

THE POLITICAL AND DIVINE WILL OF HIS HOLINESS

IMAM KHOMEINI (sa)

The resurrection of the Green revolution!

Yes ladies and gents the Green revolution of Iran is back and stronger than ever by the sound of things! This time however they aren't taking to the streets of Tehran and troubling the Islamic Republics government. Instead, they have taken over the Midnight cafe in their throngs and are creating quite a boisterous atmosphere, tell you what I reckon they would even give the mighty and ever messy English a run for their money? Unfortunately for the majority crowd inside the Midnight however the evening ended disappointingly. A brilliant solo effort from Korea's Bit-Garam Yoon in the first half of extra time was the difference between the 2 sides in what was the most anticipated of the 2011 Asian Cup quarterfinals pitting together the 2 regional heavyweights.

Seeing as we are on the topic of football and moreover sport I was very surprised to read about the very disappointing local support of this years Dubai Marathon which took place here yesterday. Local support for the event including the 42k main race, 10k race and 3k fun run constituted a mere 1.5%! A problem highlighted by both the chairman of the UAE Athletics Federation, as well as the event director.

OK, don't ask me how, but super waiter has just served me with a drink that I did not even ask for... Either he misheard me or he is actually a damn good salesman. Either way Barca are 3-0 up so all's well.

Sorry for the short post, but I must dash.

p.s. Oh and sorry for not concluding the story tonight I am still recovering from the trauma... Maybe I will be up to it tomorrow :-)

The imminent deportation...

Right! no need for alarm, but it turns out that I am presently overstaying my welcome here in Dubai, allow me to fill you in.

Basically, I applied for my work visa here through my company. But due to the red tape and general bureaucratic nonsense, which mind you makes ye old England look lawless! I find myself without a work visa and on a visit visa which is 10 days expired. Yes people you are reading the blog of an illegal immigrant or as they say in the native land a SIASEY PANA! Apparently there was a problem in the system which processes the visas and so I find myself in this slightest of predicaments. Hard to believe it I know, but yes even her Majesty's discretion has its limits. Despite being a proud holder of the mighty British Passport I find myself looking sheepishly over my soldier every time that I am confronted by any individual resembling a law enforcer. Only last night for instance I was walking back to the apartment and saw a police car parked at the entrance of the building, so maneuvering evasively I sprung into action and out of the way of any possible confrontation. Frighting visions of heartless deportation officers banging at my apartment door with the order at the ready to drag me from my humble abode raced through my mind as I tried to maintain calm and tried even more tirelessly to control my breath as the adrenaline pumped through my vains! Then came the images of my family and my childhood all flooding back to me in a raging tsunami of emotion, oh "how could this happen to me, I only came here for a better life, all I wanted was to get myself back on track, this is the last thing I need, please God (tears flowing) I am sorry for all the bad things that I have done, I promise you I will be a good boy, I will pray and do all the good things that good people do". 5 minutes went by 10 minutes went by still the lights flashed in front of me and with every flash my heart sunk deeper and deeper and deeper. "I need to make a run for it thats the only way I am going to make it, or maybe I should wait a few more minutes just in case, no I should go, stay, go, stay go argghhhh! My mind was quickly becoming my worst enemy I had to get a hold of myself, think Raz think! "Ok, ok I can make this I just need a plan, there is a light at the end of the tunnel and I am going to find it!" I reassured myself.

Just then it happened. "You've got to be s******g me" I said to myself as I rummaged through my pockets in a mad frenzy, tears flooding from my ears. I hadn't even noticed the rain which had drenched me and my favorite H&M office shirt causing my ever bulging muscles to protrude through the thin white cotton (honestly). "No! no! Bono please don't do this to me! Why! Mary why" I say it with no shame I cried like a baby in a wet nappy.

And who had put my phone on loud, it was never on loud it was always on vibrate! Just then I punched my pocket as hard as I could and in the heat of the moment completely oblivious to what was going on around me I flew out from behind the bush and began to run. And run I did like I had never done before. My shirt was torn and a little trickling of blood caught my eye as I glimpsed down to investigate the sharp pain at my side. This was no time for feeling sorry for myself as I ran through sand dune after sand dune. Just then I remembered the famous words of my old business teacher Mr Tattle 'the ability to make split second decisions can be the difference between success and failure'. Well, dear Sir I had made the decision whether or not it was the right one only time will tell. Just then came the noise I was dreading screeeeecchhhhhh.....I could even smell the rubber as it raced against the wet tarmac. I had witnessed the audacity of Bollywood directors as they convinced us that the big B could flying kick his victim from a standing start 50 meters away! I had witnessed Mittan's mighty mukah cause many a wall to come crumbling down in humble defeat. I had even witnessed my childhood hero BARKAT ALI! jump up and down repeatedly in a superhuman fashion causing an earthquake of apocalyptic proportion as he fought valiantly against the local gunday and badmaash who were terrorizing his poor village folk (I salute you sir!). But, I also bare witness that no director Bollywood, Hollywood, Lollywood or even our African brethren in Nollywood as they continue to push the boundary's of reality could ever begin to script the chain of events that had befallen me on this ruthless January night.

tbc...

The truth is on the side of the oppressed

“They recite the Quran 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and only pause for salat”. Today I witnessed dignity in its most sublime. There was a man who lived here in the Emirates some years ago. A Bedouin Arab, a man of real character, respect and a heart of humility. But even more so than these traits I hear that he was a man of extraordinary vision, who was fortunate enough to have the resources and knowhow to turn his dream into reality.

That man was Sheikh Zayed and the Quran that is recited is over his body at his most peaceful resting place which is situated by the Zayed Mosque in Abu Dhbai. A Mosque so beautiful in all its glory that from the outskirts of the Capital at a distance is picturesque and unreal looking as it glows beneath the misty haze of the Emirati sunset. This was my second visit to the Mosque and on both occasions I was lucky enough to have had time between meetings to wonder around and offer the mid-morning (dhur) prayer. A huge Mosque made almost entirely of magnificent white marble so strong in its color that I was forced to squint when looking out across the court, so not to hurt my eyes.

Sure, Dubai has the opulent Burj al Arab and the soaring Burj Khalifah as instantly recognizable symbols of its well known sophistication and grandeur. But Abu Dhabi has the Zayed Mosque a testament to its majesty and a fitting tribute to a man who was regarded as not just the Sheikh of Abu Dhabi but as the father of the United Arab Emirates. In fact, looking back over the last sentence it is clear that his legacy lives on even in the name of his nation, after all he was responsible for putting ‘United’ into the ‘Arab Emirates’.

So when I visited the mosque and walked up to the mausoleum which houses his immaculately kept sarcophagus I was filled with a deep sense of respect not just for the individual but also for the family which had valued his worth enough so as to give him such a splendid resting place, frequented by visitors from around the world. So, as I stood and I witnessed the honor of Sheikh Zayed, my mind took flight and journeyed eastward to the land of Hijaz and to the city which played host to the most honorable man, for the most honorable cause, who left behind him the most honorable family. And as I found myself walking along the holy streets of the holy city and entering onto the holy grounds of the holy mosque and I made my way up to the holy cemetery and witnessed before me… nothingness emptiness, barrenness, and loneliness . This was the reality of honor. For sure, Sheikh Zayed was responsible for the unification of all the Emirates, but what of those individuals whose direction and responsibility was from outside of this world? Those individuals who gave selflessly and unconsciously yet are forgotten with not even as much as a headstone to mark them out. And as for their sacrifices, they are considered insignificant and small.

‘Verily we have given you (O Muhammad) the abundance (in progeny). So pray to your Lord and offer sacrifice. Verily your enemy shall be the one who is cut off (in progeny). Al-Kawthar

The Remembered

The forgotten

I can’t wait, for the weekend, du du du…

Ladies and gents I am officially spent! So much so in fact that I am truly considering missing the game tonight which as a pleasant change starts at the far more reasonable time of 00:00am… Oh, and to think that it is only Sunday (the equivalent of Monday for you Western folk) and that I have a further 4 days to go in the working week, this really isn’t a good position to be in. In fact, I was even toying with the idea of blogging tomorrow instead of today, but the thought of the masses thirsting restlessly for their fix of ‘Englishman in Dubai’ was just too much for my poor little heart to live with. You know I would never do that and although I have no idea how many people actually follow this blog I must admit that I do feel some degree of responsibility in ensuring that it is sent out, short or long interesting or nominal, funny or foul. Well at least until the end of this month otherwise that would be a pretty failed new year’s resolution even by my standards.

So whilst the majority of you folk were fast asleep enjoying your Sunday lay in, yours truly was getting set to attend the Inter-Sec exhibition at the World Trade centre. If it sounds rather glamorous rest assured it is not. Though, I am looking forward to the motor and yacht shows whenever they might be. Yes people this was an industry exhibition and although the security industry is renowned for being very dynamic and futuristic, there wasn't too much to get my knickers in a twist about. Having said that there was a very cool 2 seat city-copter (kind of like a helicopter but much smaller, more like a micro light) the kind of thing that every red blooded man would remortgage the house, sell the wives gold and raid the children’s trust fund for J And there was a pretty smart technology which worked rather like a car key fob allowing access control within a building as long as you had the fob on yourself. The German chap who was exhibiting the technology was rather eccentric which I think added to the excitement of the experience. Oh, and there was a briefcase that looked like a normal briefcase until the portly gentleman (who wore a smirk that read, ‘I might be large but I’m a bad mamma jamma’) pressed a button and it turned into a high voltage briefcase, powerful enough no doubt to wet the pants of the individual foolish enough to try and wrestle it from its owner!

By the way I have a bit of an insect problem in my apartment, well actually more like an ant problem and their not big just small ones but they are starting to get on my nerves now. In fact I had to get up on two occasions last night to check my pants after feeling that creepy crawly feeling.

Anyway, back to inter-sec and apart from the odd gadget it was a rather disappointing first day, but rumor has it that these events tend to get better by the 2^nd and 3^rd days. It was however made all the more interesting by the presence of two gentlemen who will be referred to as Marty and Eddy the Dutch boys. Though, neither is actually Dutch they are just based in the orange country. In fact it was rather interesting to meet them finally after a couple weeks of talking to them over Skype it was good to put a face to a name.

Right it is 23:19 and the game kicks off in about 40 minutes, shall I stay or shall I go??? Well last night although I was in bed at 11pm I am sure I didn’t dose off till about 1am at the earliest, so I guess it makes sense to just head out and watch the game… As if it needs to make sense J viva Barca!

Right back in the Midnight boys and girls, best decision I have made all day! It be heaving up in here and I just walked into the ever welcome scene of Jose what’s his name with his head in his hands Almeria 1-1 Madrid J your s**t and you know you are! Trying to remain patient we have just kicked off at home to Malaga and as per Chixy’s instructions I am not going to get excited until all 3 points are in le bag!!! Ohhhhh wait for it INIESTA YOU BEAUTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Deep, breaths hooo hooo hooo. 2-0 baby! David Villa, right this obviously isn’t happening anymore I did try but the Blaugrana really do need my full attention looks like we could be in for another 4 or 5 goals at this rate…

Until next time,

p.s. Haven’t heard this for a while http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Af372EQLck

You don’t know what you had till it’s gone…

After what felt like an endless drive I stumbled upon the garage. Nestled between some warehouses and bearing no resembles whatsoever to a map that I was given, there it was in all its glory. So, in I wondered making an enquiry about my appointment only to be directed to the service centre which was on the opposite side of the building. ‘OK’ I thought to myself patiently, still seething from the senseless 2 hours I had just spent quite literally driving around in circles and during which I indulged in a sudden outburst of expletives at the top of my voice when I noticed that I was going back over the same bridge for what was perhaps the 3^rd or maybe 4^th time. You see the problem is that they don’t have good Sat Nav out here. Apparently, it is due to the fact that everything is done using PO Box and there are no actual addresses which I tend to find rather unusual because there are road numbers at least if not names. But anyway I am told that it doesn’t work and the navigation system that they do have is about useful as a solar powered torch (I wish that someone reads this post, corrects me and tells me where I can get one that really works)!

The thing is I used to find it quite easy to give up on things. Whether it was losing 0-3 at Pro Evo with 5 minutes to go or there was only another 200 meters to go to finish my run, I used to take the easy option and throw away the control pad or reduce my pace to a brisk walk. But a dear friend of mine by the name of Sharif soon saw to that and always pushed me to keep going until the proverbial fat lady had stopped singing (which never did happen). Anyway, I thank him for it because every time I think “bugger this for a laugh” this apparition of Sharif confronts me with a most ghastly frown on his baby face saying “you bloody pansy! Get off your fat lard arse and finish the frikin job you tart!” Naturally, I take little notice, but somewhere inside I know that he is right. 

So, as I was going back over the bridge, again! I said to myself “no I am not turning back until I have completed my mission even if it takes another 2 hours. Sure I do not have a sat nav. And sure I have a piece of paper with a map that would be better employed as a toothpick (those who know me dearly will understand). But what I do have is a vision, a drive an unbreakable zeal to get my task accomplished at any cost even if it mean laying down my life for this noble cause! Ok, maybe I got a little carried away there but you get the picture. Thanks to Sharif I wasn’t going to be giving up that easily, so as I was driving over the bridge I spun the car round in a most dramatic fashion using my handbrake and a full turn of the wheel all in one glorious motion that even Lewis Hamilton would be proud of.

Those of you real men out there that appreciate the education that is the ‘Godfather’ will recall a similar scene in part I, when they are taking Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) over the Brooklyn bridge! Well at least that is how I would have done it if I was a maverick and an outlaw but I haven’t yet had a run in with the Dubai police and I don’t particular fancy it just yet. So instead, I wondered over the bridge and then turned back on myself from the first appropriate and clearly signposted u-turn, ensuring that there was no oncoming vehicle or pedestrians in my immediate path of travel, all in a manner of which my law enforcer friend aka ‘Tiddy’ back home in England would have taken his helmet off to.

So as is the case with these situations, right at the point at which you want to give up and you really don’t have the will to continue, you take a turn and wow! There it is right before your very own eyes. So eventually I made my way round to the correct service centre entrance quietly content and reminding myself “Ahh, all is well that ends well”. “Hi, I am here from AYD to have my car looked at, Ali spoke with Taufeeq and booked me in”. “OK Sir, please have a seat and Taufeeq will be with you”. A few minutes go by and in wonders old Taufeeq fresh from his lunch and oblivious of my presence as he enjoyed seconds from what was leftover between his teeth. “Salaam, I am here from AYD to have a few bits fixed on the car please”. “OK Sir, can I take your work request number”, “work request number? I don’t know what that is. I was just given the map and told that I had to bring it in today”. “But Sir…” And that was all I needed. So here are the facts which I presented to him.

1.      This vehicle is owned by the same company who owns this very garage which happens to be the same company that I work for.

2.      I had been told by someone to attend and the vehicle would be fixed.

3.      I have driven for over 2 hours looking for this garage

4.      There are only 2 minor problems, the first of which is a simple mechanical fault (the reverse lights are always on) and the second is to re-attach the rear view mirror (which fell off one morning)

5.      I am sure that the first-rate mechanics in this establishment would be able to fix both faults in the space of 5 minutes, blind folded and with both hands tied behind their backs (which got me to thinking why I didn’t just do it myself?)

Can you guess what he said?? “Sorry sir it is impossible to do this!” So, after thinking about what to do I figured I was too tired and too bored to start a fracas so I retired to the vehicle and drove back feeling a little sorry for myself. Just like the other day when I tried to return the toaster to Carrefour which I did not need, still within the 7 day returns policy used only once but cleaned immaculately to ensure that it could be resold. Only to be told that there was a bread crumb inside which meant that it had been used and therefore did not qualify for a refund. All I wanted was to swap it for sheesha!. Afterward, I thought to myself I am not going to shop there again which meant that Carrefour was losing out on 150 AED per week or 600 AED per month because it was unwilling to compromise on a 50 AED toaster?

So the moral of the story is quite simple there are some things which we tend to take for granted. And only after they are gone do you realize how valuable they are. I once remember someone telling me that they were enrolled at University for a course on ‘International customer service!’ I still remember thinking to myself “wow they really have a course that does that?” And having been the recipient of a full refund from ASDA for a pair of clippers that I had used and decide they simply were not the ones that I wanted, I can say with complete confidence that they have it spot on back home. I can’t really recall a single occasion in the UK when I have been left fuming by a customer service representative, whereas, I have had two experiences in the space of just a week here in Dubai.

Sheikh Mo I think you got your work cut out…

The lucky 5 percent

PASSION is going to be the buzzword for this particular post so in an attempt to add a new dimension to the blog I thought I would go with the interactive approach. Liking the sound of things? I was hoping so.

Ladies and gentlemen, madame et monsieur, khawateen ohr khazaraat, momineen ohr mominaat. Please may I have your attention? Thanking you in advance. I would like to conduct a short survey, with your unconditional participation that is. All it will involve is for each one of you dear readers to answer one simple 

and solitary question which I will present to you at the end of this post.

Today I met a very interesting individual, the type of person who is so enthralling and interesting that whilst in their presence you somehow subconsciously end up leaving your world and entering into theirs. And only once you have left their presence does everything come rushing back… And before some soppy sod starts to think ‘he’s in love’ I am sorry to disappoint you but not this time anyway. So what am I trying to get at?? Let me see if I can put this into words. Beware I may get a little deep on you so if you wish to switch off at this point please do so. I have been informed by some readers that the posts are too short, for which I am sorry as it is not always easy to find the time during a school night. So although it is approximately 2:34am here, I am armed with a big mug of tea made using not 1 but 2 Lipton yellow label tea bags with only a splash of milk so in other words a good strong brew, which should keep me going for a thousand words at the least.

So back to this individual, surely you have all seen the MTV show ‘Pimp My Ride? You know the one where they take peoples wrecked cars and bring them back to life in the most incredible ways. Well this guy runs the Dubai equivalent of West Coast Customs, so when I dropped in to see what it was all about around 2pm I didn’t end up leaving until 4pm. Yes of course the customized bikes and jet skis and boats were all very impressive (he even had a customized WWII helmet! An original one the kind that would double up as the soldiers food bowl) but what really impressed me was the sheer excitement, enthusiasm and energy that this man had for his business. One of the underlying elements that is quite obvious out here is the fact that more than skills, academic qualifications or even experience for that matter employers (local ones at least) look for trust, loyalty and something that sets you aside from the crowd. “It is so important to be passionate about what you do, because if you’re not then you are never going to be as productive as you can be if you were doing something that you really did enjoy. And if you ask me more often than not, it is ingrained within a person and it is not something that you can learn or acquire”. Damn! I only came in to grab a business card for Lala and here I was being confronted by Tony Robbins! But he did have a very cool New York accent and some brilliant gadgets in his funky office including amongst other things a small model Cadillac which when he pressed a button lit up playing music and bouncing up and down with hydraulics. And he even had a real Samurai sword straight from Japan. Don’t ask me how but he claims to have gotten it through customs as kitchenware!

Prior to the tour of the office gadgets I was given a tour of the workshop where they were in the middle of completing a job for Dubai police, who had purchased 20 Yamaha motor bikes in yellow and then decided that they actually wanted them in black..? “Last year I did a golden X5 for the prince, which was kinda cool” wow, people with money really do some odd things I thought to myself, whilst trying to sound impressed, though I guess I was in actual fact, the thought of a golden car sounds like something Gold Member from Austin Powers might be interested in?

So as we were leaving the showroom having seen the paint shop were all the colors were mixed and prepared we walked past a refrigerator which had been fully customized using an image from a scene out of Finding Nemo. The finishing was so good that I actually though for a moment I could touch the water.

All the while he was talking about the business and showing me designs and projects and concepts I realized how fortunate this man really was. Here was a person who had a truly genuine passion for the job that he did, to the extent that the line between work and life had become somewhat blurred and uneasy to indentify. A hobby which became an idea, which developed into a business serving a niche that started in the midst of the recession, and now counts amongst its clients many of the local Royals, goes to show exactly what can be achieved when people are motivated and inspired. And I beg to differ when people say that money is the chief motivator, bullshit! That is simply an impression that is painted to us in order to ensure that our very precious time is consumed in the pursuit of monetary gain more often than not you put your heart into something and the rest tends to look after itself, at least that’s what I think. After all almost everyone knows or has heard of someone who spent most of their life amassing and hoarding wealth only to be left wishing that they never had it. Imam Ali says in the ‘Peak of eloquence’ quote ‘knowledge is more precious than wealth, because you have to look after wealth, whereas knowledge looks after you’.

So in conclusion (I hope this post has been long enough) I guess the message that I am trying to get across in a not so subtle way is that I think if not at this point in life then at some point it is very important that we try to pursue a passion whatever it may be. After all it is common knowledge that the most successful people are driven by their ideals and their vision which all combine to give them the passion to pursue their goals.

Just imagine for a moment how much more productive you would be if you were passionate about what you did for a living as opposed to simply interested or satisfied…?

Going back to the question at the beginning let me know your thoughts. Are you passionate about your job or not? I want to see if it’s true that only 5% of people have that privilege.

Looking forward to your feedback,

Goodnight

Le piece de resistance

The good old days

It always intrigued me as a child during family get together's and various other social gatherings when I would hear the elders talking about the subject of age. 'They grow up so quickly' well not quite in those words or in the English language for that matter but you get my picture, well some of you anyway ;-) And obviously because of my tender years I had no idea whatsoever of what they were talking about, but I was always curious by the way they would talk about time 'flying by' and remembering 'like it was yesterday'... So just today a few hours ago while I was reminiscing with my ONLY friend, who mind you deserves a high 5 for his unswerving dedication to helping me get on my feet over the last month or so (nice one Lala!). We were remembering some of our escapades during our University days (of which there were a fair few I assure you) and true to the elders famous saying, it really was just like yesterday that I was forced to walk around Leicester Square one fine English Summer's evening with a solitary sandal on my left foot after my so called friends or rather bandits! colluded to make a nuisance of me by step on the heel while I walked causing the strap to snap and resulting in me walking around with one sandal and the other in my hand much to their amusement as you may have guessed. And then there was the time when 6 of us managed quite conveniently to miss our flight to Portugal for a short break. And Lala! I don't care what you say and I know that you read this blog, I remain steadfast in my belief that you and your compadre were at fault for that. Nevertheless, it was just as well that your obscenity filled outburst helped us get the flight to Malaga.

So when we were told we would have to make our own way to Portugal along with a Canadian couple who were in the same predicament I knew this was going to be an interesting night... It is surprising how resourceful we can be when we find ourselves with a problem to solve, figure this one out. A 5 seater vehicle with 8 occupants and 8 pieces of luggage and the pansies amongst us (and there is always at least one) had there man bags. Sure we were the descendants of men who would cram entire extended families into the mini, but mighty Datsun Cherry. But this was something else and a 5 hour journey across rural Spain. How would we possibly cope? The funny thing is that we did and it is exactly those memories which tend to live with you forever and remind you of the good old days.

So over the last couple days I have yet again found myself thinking a lot recently, I guess the absence of a TV in my life has some part to play in that, as a result I am struggling to figure out whether or not the lack of media intake is a good thing or a bad thing? I guess it really depends upon how you look at it.
Oh, just to let you know I am back in the Midnight tonight in my usual spot, almost a week on from my first visit to the cafe which inspired this blog. It is actually a really nice place and the service truly is impeccable, in fact, I think I might just be tempted to drop my glass and assess how good it really is ;-)

So where were we... ah yes the good old media, you know I had a really scary thought this week while driving along Sheikh Zayed road to the office in JAFZA. I had just read an article in the Gulf News about national defense budgets for various countries.Naturally, I was surprised to hear that the US has an annual military budget of $700 billion but this figure was hard to put into context until I read that the second largest military budget is that of the Peoples Republic of China and stands at a paltry $77.95 billion! For some reason this fact really worried me, 'wow, that would be one incredible firework display' I thought to myself. Now the thing that disturbs me even more so than the obvious cataclysmic effect that such an arsenal could have on this poor little earth is that of mankind's fixation with destruction. Note* how I emphasize 'man' because lets face it give the other gender a shopping mall and a credit card and it doesn't matter if your North Korean or South Korean, lets go shopping girls! Well in Dubai at least. Did you know that the car parks at shopping malls here are free for the first 4 hours! 4 hours! And you have the audacity to complain that the football lasts too long, honestly what are you like..? Side tracked again arrghh! really must stop doing that. Oh! highlights of the 2005/2006 Champions League final are on!! I must take this moment to stand up and salute the Blaugrana whilst kissing the badge of course. And might I add Henrik Larsson is nothing short of genius.

Right looks like football fever has caught up with me and it is 1am here which means the game is about to start, and you know what that means... Until tomorrow I bid you farewell.

Visca el Barca, et visca el Catalunya!.

p.s. Jesus let me down... Turns out he can't start until the first week of February. Shame, I was looking forward to seeing what miracles he could :-) Rest assured, I will be logging a formal grievance to the All mighty when I say my prayers tonight :-)

The second coming

Not quite sure if I mentioned it in yesterday's blog but I interviewed Jesus for a job. There! You don't hear that every day! Well not the real Jesus of course but Jesus the IT guy who in a strange divine way turned out to be a Saviour in his very own right!

Right although I don't want to turn this blog into a running commentary about me and my life, and believe me I don't. There has been a general curiosity from the readership as to exactly what I actually do. For many it has long been a mystery for most of my life as to what I actually do. So in a bid to put those individuals out of their misery let me explain... I work for Her Royal Majesty's secret service as a global information operative, which is a covert way of saying SPY. And yes I always wear a black tuxedo, with a bow tie even to bed. The standard issue Aston Martin DBS is at hand also, well I say standard but I requested white being in the Middle East and the weather and what not... Not buying?? Thought as much so here is the real job, I am working in IT believe it or not the motivating factor for me was the lack of Asian representation within this particular industry just like in the medical and finance professions respectively ;-). And for those who want me to be even more specific I am involved in enterprise storage for CCTV, data archiving and digital media. So not as dramatic as the role I was offered by HRM but I felt I would prefer the less hazardous occupation seeing as I am closing in on the big 30.

So, let’s get back to Jesus and how he became my savior. We are going to be exhibiting at a conference here in Dubai called Inter-Sec and I have been struggling for weeks to find a good technical engineer with the relevant experience. And just when I thought I would never find one in time for the exhibition, low and behold Jesus came to me... Praise the Lord! Hallelujah! 

My respect for this individual was already at attention. After all you don’t name your son after the messiah unless you think he’s a bit special right?? So I gave him the benefit of the doubt and when I welcomed him as ‘Eesus’ (the common pronunciation in South American) hoping that he affirm and I wouldn’t have to actually call him Jesus. He responded by saying ‘Actually it is Jesus’, right I thought let’s see just how special you are.

Turns out true to his name he was rather special, well not special enough to bring the dead back to life, but special enough to land himself the job. So please join me in giving a virtual round of applause to Jesus the presale engineer!

And on that little note I shall take my leave for this evening, I know that you whittle your nails away all day long till they are no more in anticipation of my posts but I have had an excruciatingly long day and I assure you that tomorrow I will post a really nice long one that will send you to sleep.

Oh and I must mention happy birthday to Shella who was 28 today although she could still pass off as a 15 year old. You know she brought not 1 not 2 not 3 but 4 cakes to the office for her birthday today! And they were big old cakes, got a feeling I might call in sick on the 23^rd of this month… I really should stop being so cheap J

Goodnight world xx

The Special one!

About time I learn how to wash. Myself.

You know, it has always fascinated me how interested a person becomes in the most unusual of things when fate conspires to put them in a position where they have little choice but to be interested. Take for example my brothers, yes not just one, but both! When by the grace of God they were being blessed with children. In the run up to the births of my beautiful nieces both had become what can only be described as authorities on the suitability of ‘push chairs’ I say that with a degree of caution because I am sure that they would be eager to correct me and insinuate a more comprehensive term such as ‘newly born transportation vehicle’.

As silly as it may sound I am dead serious, I remember my older brother the geekiest of the trio spending endless hours on the internet researching about the correct cloth material, posture, elevation, padding, what type of plastic was used? Where was it manufactured? Who had conceived the design? When had he conceived the design!? Why had he conceived such a design!!? Perhaps I am going a little over board, but then I have always been the least fussy of us brothers and find myself harking back to the good old day when you could just sling the little rascal round your back and see his or her cute little face bobbing out of the top J In fact in many parts of Africa and South East Asia it continues to be the way forward. Surely you have seen the adverts and documentaries when they show the mother working the tea field with the little baby wrapped around her back in nothing more than a single cotton sheet, awww…  I hear you sigh. Coming to think of it, the wrap your baby around you trend is experiencing somewhat of a renaissance from what I gather, having recently witnessed a number of well to do middle aged men being dragged around Dubai Mall or MOE (Mall of Emirates) by their ruthless wives. And while they head off to give his credit card a thorough work out, the poor sod is left to rue the day he said ‘yes’.  At least until he sits down on a bench or at a coffee shop looks down to see the angelic face of his baby child peering up at him, and all of a sudden he knows exactly why he said yes. Personally I think we got one over our African counterparts with the self facing baby carrier, it looks more liberating than the baby on the back, out of sight. Though I bet you would struggle trying to pick tea with that particular contraption!

So what the bloody hell is blabbering on about today I here you thinking. Well I just spent that last 20 minutes sat in front of my washing machine, trying to figure out whether or not it was working. It was making all the right noises and the clothes seems to be going round and round and I could see water through the glass so surely that was it…? But why was the timer not ticking down??? Something was wrong and I had to get to the bottom of it and right away. I couldn’t risk another day or wearing white pot sock, the type that come up to your ankles under my immaculate 2 piece suit, though I guess if anyone asked I could pass it off as my eccentric British fashion sense, I mean if Chris Eubank can drive around Mayfair in his truck and not any old truck an actual full blown thing with 12 big wheels and a kane and a bowler hat, then what’s to stop me expressing myself…?

You can see why I had to get the washing machine working and fast.

So as any real man does I tossed aside the manual with complete disregard for its content. Well, I would have done if I had a manual but Hayan the crazy Syrian from next door didn’t have one when I brought the washing machine from him and the fridge and the cooker all for a bargain 1500 AED about 300 squid. ‘Don’t cross me man, because if someone crosses me man I don’t stop I even do murder man, believe me’ Those were his heart warming words when me being me had told him that I would buy the stuff from him as he was moving out and I needed it. Only small detail was that I didn’t have that little thing called ‘money’ with which to pay him. Anyway, yet again I had landed myself nice and deeply in it and it was just my luck that I had moved next door to Saddam. So behold the ‘Uncley’ yet again to the rescue I can’t really show enough admiration and thanks to this man. Anyway, after the stuff was brought and delivered to my apartment and Hayan who was harmless really, officially lifted his self imposed death sentence from me, all was well. Now I just had to figure out how to use these things. The fridge was pretty straight forward what us men like to refer to as plug and play, the washing machine I left up to the local handy man Redy, who true to his name was as ever Ready J. A score and a pat on the back saw to him. Now the only outstanding element was the cooker and even the all action Redy was humbled before it, conceding if somewhat shamefully that he was not up to it. This, my dear audience was a task for DEWA man! I will let you know how that chapter unfolds when it does unfold.

The other thing about this place which is a little conniving is that fact that our work week is from Sunday to Thursday so although I have already been working for 2 days tomorrow is only Tuesday! Looks like it will take some time for me to get over that little mind trap. Aha, the washing machine has finished after a 1h50m wash at 70° followed by a mild 30 minute spin dry by twisting the knob to the ҉ symbol it was now the moment of truth. Right the glass is warm which means that the it worked and the first signs are good, here we go, hmm my boxer shorts, perfect I’ll just bury my face in them… only joking let’s find something a little more appropriate. Ah, the loyal kitchen towel, sniff, sniff. Ahhhhhhh I am victorious, I have just completed my first ever wash at the ripe old age of 27 and there was me thinking I would never see it through.

Thought of the day people, never give up till victory is you.

A chance encounter with a Champion

First things first I should point out that it is my unshakable! principle to begin every post with the most pressing and important of issues before departing to the less urgent. So with great content I can announce that yet again it was a convincing victory for Barca last night a resounding 4-0 against Depor, thus all is well in my world for another week.

While we are on the topic of sport I should add that I was rather disappointed and somewhat shocked with my colleague at work today. A citizen of Manila in the Philippines he had never heard of 'The Thriller in Manila' how could that be possible! One of the greatest nights of boxing graced by the greatest name in Sport FULL STOP! A man who transcended not just his sport but sport as we know it, full of character, charisma and charm few doubt that Ali was the greatest. Anyway, Rhomel managed to restore some self respect by jumping around and squeaking 'Many Pacquo' Many Pacquo' he's pantastic! Yes Rhomel, quite right you are he is indeed fantastic. Which gets me to thinking, will they ever make the fight? If they fail to do so then I think Ali should put his trunks back on get inside the ring and thump everyone involved in the farce beginning with the greasy promoters for what would be their part in the greatest disappointed in the history of the sport.

As you may have gathered by now we have gone with a sporting theme on this occasion and trust me it will all tie up nicely by the time that I am done so even if you are not the sporty type I urge you, please continue reading it is worth it... So where were we, right I should point out that I am back in the Midnight cafe writing this post I sense that this place has yet again drawn me in by its warm, smoky atmosphere almost inviting me consecutively with its unusual glow and wholeheartedness... Well that and the fact that I spent 10 minutes scoping it out before I was contented that Super Waiter was not on shift tonight! Looks like a Mocha or 2 is about as painful as it will get tonight. Forgive me for sounding like such a cheap skate but the fact is that I am a cheap skate at least temporarily until I find the Dubai Dream.

I should should point out for those of you whose attention I still hold, that this whole blogging thing was part of a new years initiative which I hope will hold for once in my life. It's only the 10th of January but it's not a bad start I guess? And if you sense that I am slacking then it is your responsibility as the readership to enforce your wrath upon me and ensure that I start writing again even if it means dragging and screaming. Power to the People!

You would have surely gathered by now that these ramblings of mine have very little structure, so lets go back to the topic of sport and more specifically boxing. Naturally, as a fine physical specimen myself I am appreciative of the tremendous physical strain that the modern day athlete has to endure in order to be at the top of his game. However, for me personally there is one single sport which captures the imagination unlike any other and that is the glorious sport of Boxing. Having been a miserable excuse of a boxer in my day I still remember the strain that the body would have to go through in just a 1 hour session, imagine having to endure a training camp for a World title fight! No, there is no doubt in my mind that boxing is the toughest sport of all, after all the man whose Dr said quote, "If Aliens came down to Earth and asked us for our finest specimen to carry out there tests we would have to give them Muhammad" and who himself said quote, "I hated every minute of training, but I said, "Don't quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion". Need I say more? So you can imagine my surprise and excitement this evening after finishing work I decided to go for a stroll along Jumeirah Walk with a friend, well actually my only friend :-( And as we were walking I noticed a burly man walking toward me in a very upright posture, this was an athletes stride I said to myself and then he gave it right away with his Louis Vuitton man bag, instantly I thought to myself "Eubank you ****** LEGEND!" thanking my lucky stars that I had not said that out loud in case he mistook it for an insult! 


So as he approached I looked him in the eye and said 'YEAH WHAT!!!'. Actually, I just said "Chris" to which he replied "hi" naturally I put my hand out to shake his, only to regret it instantly. This wasn't any old hand, this same right hand had gone to WAR on so many memorable occasions, this was gonna hurt :-( My mind flashed back to being sat on the sofa at home on a Saturday night when I was a little nipper with my Dad, watching what could only be described as pure and simple carnage the beating that Benn and Eubank endured and dished out could only be surpassed by the one and only Rock Balboa I thought to myself. And of course this was the very same right hand that had so sadly left Michael Watson paralyzed after their world title fight in 1991. After having my hand crushed by Chris, I should point out that we are on first name terms now by the way ;-) I walked away and thought shit! I should get a picture, but then I decided against stopping Mr Eubank in his stride.


This post has gone on for longer than I had hoped, but before I withdraw for another night, I promised to give you an insight into the thinking behind the title of my blog.


The one thing that has been very apparent to me in my short time here is the attitude of people towards one another, being in a large cosmopolitan city with a diverse ethnic melting pot there is the natural respect and good feeling toward each other. However, there seems to be this extra special respect for the British. Yes there are large influential British economic interests within the Emirates but that is not the reason for the general publics attitude and respect for Britain and what it represents even in the midst of what can be described as a bad patch for Blighty, being involved in two VERY unpopular wars and an increasingly restless and disenchanted working class not to mention the students. Despite these woes the majority of the World still continues to view us in high esteem which was abruptly put to me by someone very close who isn't exactly seeing eye to with me at this present time, when she stated 'i still can't believe that u are from London we don't find shit in this country but gentlmen' right you are and I will ensure that I pursue the removal of this stigma that I am guilty for attaching :-( So my point remains that for some reason the Englishman is synonymous with the Gentleman as Chris said recently in an interview about his partnership with a Savile Row tailor when questioned about whether his clothes were upmarket he said quote, "I wouldn't say that, though I'm an upmarket guy. We are all upmarket really but then we are British".


So I find myself at a dead end not quite sure what to make of this vain talk? However what I can say is that I am proud to be an Englishman in Dubai for all the good values that we uphold. And long may it continue.

Coming of age... better late than never!

They say the first sentence is the most difficult, I can certainly vouch for that having been sat here for the last 30 minutes pondering over how to begin my maiden blog. And just as I complete that infamous sentence my Filipino  waiter has just secured himself an early nomination for 'Waiter of the year 2011' as he wandered over with a bottle of chilled still water asked me if I wish him to serve it before getting down on one knee opening the bottle of Aquafina in one effortless twist (after checking the glass was utterly spotless) and pouring it like a bottle of vintage, after which he presented the 3/4 full glass with a smile to match his perfect groomed hair! And upon my recognition of his level of courtesy I responded with a subtle and somewhat sheepish 'thank you' knowing full well that this individual is not one to be brushed off with a mere 10 dirham's. So what followed had me sweating a little thinking, bugger this innocent trip to the local cafe/restaurant to watch the football, which mind you will be airing at a ludicrous 1am! is going to hurt my POOR little pocket far more than I had hoped. His reciprocation caught me completely off guard with a response of such humility never before experienced by myself 'it is a pleasure to serve you sir...' and he was gone, now the only thing that can ease the pain of the bill will be a comprehensive victory for Barca. I live in hope.

So getting back to the matter at hand and the purpose of this blog. Destiny has played its hand over recent months in quite a dramatic way. Only 2 months ago had I been told that I would be working in Dubai I would have found it hard to believe, but here I am a little reluctantly (some will say that is an understatement :-) in what many see as the new land of opportunity with a job, a studio apartment and my very own pickup truck. Not bad considering I was the serial occupant of my little sisters Renault Clio for as long as my memory serves me without a REAL job and living under the ever so comfortable roof of my parents. I should at this point offer much thanks to the individual who I will refer to simply as 'Uncley. Oh! The waiter has returned just as I move tables to get a power supply, hastily wiping the table before I take occupancy, i'm not sure whether to be impressed or disappointed, I guess I better order some food now as well :-( I really should stop getting side tracked by his impeccable service, but it draws my mind back to an article I read recently by a very successful businesswomen who stated that the real difference between successful people and those who endlessly pursue success with little luck is quite simple, hard work. The fact she says is that most people don't actually work that hard which coming to think of it is very true, of course there are other factors which are essential, but really and truly if there is one single key factor it is hard work which my waiter, and I say with pride now has displayed ironically with quite little effort.

Right, refueled from my Ceaser salad where was I... ah yes Dubai, Dubby Do, Dubizzle or whatever else you wish to call it, this place is somewhat of a wonder a success in the Middle East? That in itself some struggle to comprehend, a multicultural melting pot amongst the backward insolent Arabs? A thriving society seemingly full of optimism and excitement even despite the much documented economic debacle? Though I guess the gazillion barrels of oil down the road in Abu Dhabi silenced the scaremongers, temporarily at least. Oh, here he comes again gliding over to me all 5ft 2" of him this time tempting me with freshly cut fruit salad, this time I have a game plan declining his immediate advances but saying that I may have some a little later, not wanting to disapoint him with an out and out NO!

Looks as though my blog was taking a somewhat political turn so lets avoid that for today and conclude my first ever post with a taste of whats to come and an explanation of the purpose behind my efforts. Quite simple really, like many people I find myself thinking a lot, which many of my close acquittance's will say that I should avoid at all cost. Nevertheless, I am a free spirit even more so now that I am independent of all constraints and may speak my mind freely and openly on any topic I wish, which is exactly what I intend to do for the reading pleasure of the masses that await my literary masterpieces ;-) Right the football has begun so I can stop wasting time with you common folk, until next time may you be well and live happily :-)

p.s. Next time round I will let you into the reasoning behind the title of my blog its deeper than you may think.

xx