One Year in Dubai

It's official: I have just survived one year in Dubai. Funny how I never saw myself in this part of the world not too long ago. That must have been the time my friend Lisa Low May May mentioned her own dreams of coming here ("Dubai? Where's THAT?") and I was in a bit of a mess of where to go myself. I remember the chat we had at MacDonald's at IMM's in Singapore. IMM's being the accurate reflection of the home country: overcrowded, frantic and non-stop rush. We talked about where we really wanted to be, we talked about money (we're Singaporeans after all) and the lack thereof. May May wondered about saying yes to her friend Sheila Kaur who was the MD of a Dubai PR agency. She couldn't decide. I couldn't either. But at the time, Dubai was not even an option. Besides, options were something I didn't have. All I knew was this: I had to cross the abyss... I had to get the fuck out of where I was. Anywhere was fine. Anywhere but here. Fast forward to now. May May is still in Singapore, and Sheila had resigned and returned to Singapore as well. And I am here, counting my blessings. Never mind that Dubai is a much harsher place (and I don't just mean the weather) and that other than work, there wasn't really much to do and meet. But like I said, I am thankful nevertheless. My career is working out and I am right back in the swing of things: Austin Powers post mojo-retrieval. Despite my current workplace being as about organised as New Orleans after Katrina, there couldn't be a better place and more talented people to work with. Yes the traffic here is psychotic and fatal on a daily basis and people here have all sorts of pre-arrival baggage... but hey, I constantly remind myself that I could be in a worse off place: I could be home.