“Actually we rarely eat in hotels when we are abroad on business,” (this was our first overseas foray). “We like to get out and about and explore the local culture, get a feel for the place. Sean has been asking around and we have been recommended to try a local restaurant. Apparently the Arab chef is really something else. We are going to give it a try and we’ll let you know what it is like when we see you tomorrow.”
So after a showing and changing into casual clothes, dad and I set off. Eve this late in the afternoon the blast of air that hit you at the main entrance was still hot. Cooler than in the morning but still hot.
The immaculately attired Mogul style doorman asked would we like a taxi into town. No thanks, we like a walk before dinner – sharpens the appetite, you know.
He saluted us and wished us a pleasant evening. Really, I could get used to this lifestyle if I had to.
We walked down the street, across the junction, round the corner to the right and took our seats at ‘Greasy Ahmed`s’ transport café. Oh how the other half live!
The food was brilliant.
I should not have been surprised really considering where we were. For centuries Dubai has had trading links with India, Asia, Africa, Europe and the rest of the Middle East. All of these influences were reflected in Greasy Ahmed`s menu; onion bhajis, curried dishes, flat breads, pakoras, goat cheese dishes, lamb kebabs, vegetable pakoras, spicy spring rolls. Wonderful food, and dead cheap.
Greasy Ahmed`s became our restaurant of choice for the duration of our visit. The taxi drivers got to know us. They were a friendly hard working bunch, but they were definitely not happy with their lot.
There are two types of Arabs, they told us. Arabs-with-oil and Arabs-with-no-oil. Arabs-with-oil treat other Arabs like slaves. If you happen to be an Arab-with-oil and object to this statement, don’t take it up with me, go and talk to some Palestinian taxi drivers in the Emirates. I am sure they will be pleased to talk to you about how they are treated.
One Jordanian driver told me he worked a seven-day week for the Dubai Arab that owned the taxi firm. His first son had been born six months previously and he had repeatedly requested two weeks leave to go and see him. But his boss refused saying if he took time off without permission he would see him blacklisted and banned from the country. The guy was bitter and angry but he needed the job to send money home to his family, so he stayed.
Later on I bought a local paper printed in English and they did indeed have a couple of pages showing photos and details of overseas workers that employers wanted to make sure could not get another job in Dubai. Rarely did they give a reason why.
Talking to these guys put my complaints about working for a bank into sharp perspective for me. Not for the last time in my life I learned to count my blessings.
When I returned to the hotel I found a fresh bowl of fruit waiting in my room. No wine. Surely some mistake?
I phoned dad to check. Same thing – fresh fruit no booze. Oh shit.
Never mind I needed an early night anyway.
Early next morning I managed to acknowledge the ring of the alarm clock before the battery died of exhaustion, unlike the previous morning. I rose, showered, ate a couple of oranges (so important to keep up the vitamin C), and joined the others on the courtesy bus to the exhibition center. I also got dressed but I was sure you would take that bit for granted. Unless you knew me at University perhaps.
This morning was to be a private opening for members of the Dubai Royal Family only – don’t you just love to see democracy in action? Who did they think they were? Michael Jackson? Private opening indeed.
The exhibition center was a huge modern building. Our stand was somewhere in the middle of it all, opposite the British Embassy stand. Now what were they there for? Looking for new countries that might be interested in opening an Embassy or Consulate? Who knows?
On our stand we intended to display two machines that we thought would prove popular – a colourful slush drink machine and a soft ice cream machine. We now loaded up the machines with product, checked our display, got out leaflets and pads to take details of potential customers.
Then with half an hour to kill, we wandered around the exhibition looking at our fellow exhibitors. There were around 150 companies exhibiting their goods and services, and they covered every type of business. From ball bearing manufacturers to electronics companies, colleges trying to lure rich foreign students to study with them to a manufacturer of hand made rocking horses retailing for three times the price of the real thing. However there were only a handful of companies from the food industry.
Back at our stand we were stood in the aisle and I expressed my concerns that we might not meet the right type of customer at an event covering such a wide range of products. The staff on the Embassy stand opposite must have overheard me, because a gentleman clad in rich Arab robes now approached us.
“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Sheik Jusef and I work with the Commercial Department of the British Embassy. I want to assure you that I have contacted every potential customer for your company in the region and personally invited them to visit your exhibition stand. I have no doubt that you will have a successful week.”
We spent a lot of time that week chatting with Sheik Jusef. He had a lovely gentle sense of humour and nothing was too much trouble for him.
Then the tannoy announced the arrival of the Royal Family with distinguished guests and we were up and running.
They were escorted around the hall by heavily armed guards and introduced to the various exhibitors by the British Minister for Trade and Industry, Lord Young I think it was. They stopped with us just long enough to try out some strawberry slush, then moved on.
In a large open space at one end of the hall. A company was exhibiting a unique range of bouncy castles: one shaped like a dragon, another like a pirate ship, yet another looked like a Disneyland style castle.
A couple of the Royal Princes began bouncing around the pirate ship, obviously having fun. His Royal Highness didn’t say a word, just vaguely waved his hand and bought the lot. Twenty thousand pounds worth. He also bought a full stable worth of handmade rocking horses and enough mint sweets to scare the living shit out of any concerned dentist.
Then His Highness and entourage were gone. The doors opened and in came the public.
We were really busy that day and took lots of inquiries, gave out lots of free samples. When it quieted down a little we exchanged some slush drinks and ice creams for some espressos from a coffee company and some hot delicacies from another company selling snack foods. So that was lunch taken care of.
The exhibition opening hours were 9AM to 1PM, with a break for the hottest part of the day, then a second session from 4 to 9PM.
That first afternoon we sold all the equipment off the stand. Or rather we took a fifty per cent deposit and agreed to close early on the last day of the exhibition to deliver and install the machines. We also agreed to hand over all the remaining stack of ingredients free of charge to the new owners. We were very happy bunnies indeed.
Now all we wanted to do was to appoint a distributor for our goods in the region and we would be in seventh heaven.
That evening after our banquet at Greasy Ahmeds we strolled over to Biggles Bar for a relaxing drink. It was busy so dad went for a table while I went to get us a couple of pints. It took a few seconds to recognize the grinning barman –he wasn’t wearing the white uniform with the red turban, he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Genuine Calvin Klein of course.
