Why life in Abu Dhabi reminds me of Punjab

‘Indian’

‘Thank you Madame. I will get back to you.‘

And she never did. Neither did a few others. As I desperately tried to get any help I could after landing (yes, I know we’re spoilt and used to domestic help!) in a foreign country with two young kids, I actually felt that instead of being a prospective employer, I was the one being interviewed. And rejected. Some were plain blunt; they only wanted to work with western expats. Things settled down eventually. It’s been a year since I shifted to Abu Dhabi; there’s been the summer, sand storms, crazy winds and whether you believe it or not – thermals and socks in the so called winter. The kids are in school and already rolling their r’s.

I realised I have unconsciously been comparing life here to saada Punjab. While I still don’t drive here, most taxi rides have been entertaining. My easiest conversations have actually been with taxi drivers from across the border; it gets more energetic once I tell them my family is from Lahore. I sometimes feel there are more cultural and language differences within our own country than with our neighbors across the border. Yet although I would love to visit my ancestral home or what remains of it, try those very famous kebabs and hope for a glimpse of Fawad Khan, I doubt it’s a journey I will be making anytime soon. Till then, thoughts of butter chicken and tikkas back home will keep me going, although I doubt if I am going to spot a home grown (Punjabi) Fawad on any of my trips to Jalandhar.

Away from the turmoil in our neighboring country, Abu Dhabi is a quieter, and I think a prettier version of Dubai. If you are single, then understandably Dubai with its night life is where you will be. But just an hour’s drive away is the beautiful Corniche and the adventurous Ferrari world. The trees are real, malls just as many (and as big) as Dubai, and everything, including education and rentals, exorbitant. I often wonder how all those who come to the Middle East to earn well actually manage to save anything. Abu Dhabi is the capital of the UAE, which is comprised of seven emirates. It’s the one that stood by its fellow Emirates during the financial crisis in 2008. The city is very different from the reaction most people have when I say I live here. It’s a modern city, with people soaking in the sun on the beach or eating out in tiny road side cafes. Frankly, it could be a cosmopolitan city anywhere in the world and also one of the safest. Like kids cycle or play football outside till late, or you can satisfy a midnight ice cream craving when you want. I guess it’s the bygone Indian era. So while our Punjabi dhabas still serve the best makki ki roti and paranthas, that ice cream craving will definitely have to wait till the morning.

I have also been waiting, now for years for something beyond the bhangra. But in the world of Yo Yo Honey Singh, even a Daler Mehndi sounds profound. Abu Dhabi, consciously putting its cultural feet forward provides a stark contrast. The Louvre will now have a second home. It opens in Abu Dhabi later this year and will be part of an entire district on the man-made Saadiyat Island that will be devoted to arts and culture. Two years later, the Guggenheim will be a platform for global contemporary art. In a city that prides itself on unique designs even for average residential properties, every piece of architecture on Saadiyat is intricately designed and impeccable.

But all the modern designs pale in comparison to the very grand and the very ornate Emirates palace hotel. A 7 star hotel in literally the golden era. The main dome is all gold as is the furnishing in some of the suites. And if the Punjabi in you also wants a bit of the bling, then head straight to the ATM machine in the lobby which churns out gold coins and bars. Things here though are a bit like Punjab. The flashier the car the better. You can indicate or maybe not. You can stop your car anywhere you want to. And yes things get done when they get done; unless you’re connected (it’s called ‘wasta’). But it does take a while to get accustomed to the trail of perfume even when you are out for a jog.

When you are tired of being the tourist and are looking for some fun other than dune bashing, the calendar fills up almost as soon as the heat eases up. The year kicked off with Djokovic, Nadal and other top tennis players in the city. Abu Dhabi is now for cricket what Sharjah used to be in the 80’s, a neutral playing ground where teams take on Pakistan. Then, Formula One comes to town and the Yas Marina has not just the races, but also concerts and non-stop parties on the beach. Did I forget to mention the Red Bull air races and the Volvo ocean race? Yup, both take place here. Abu Dhabi is also now a big and a lucrative stopover for singers and musicians.

So the Ferraris are roaring. I used to wonder why anyone would have it in any other colour but the conventional red. Then again – this is Abu Dhabi. It’s probably because they already have the red, and the white one is their second Ferrari. Well the Pajeros back home aren’t any less flashy, and am still debating who has louder music blaring in the car.

Despite the riches though, there are many stories of generosity. Like a female tourist who happened to admire a fancy watch on a local stranger. Before she knew it, the stranger gifted it to her. Or the time I took my girls to the popular Funcity and wondered why a middle aged gentleman would be playing kiddy games in the middle of a work day. Till he came and gave my girls gift coupons that took us forever to count and disappeared even before we could say thank you. Later the staff told me the same gentleman comes every other day, buys coupons and gifts them to kids. I see the same generosity back home. One December, many years ago, I was covering a train tragedy. It was an open field in a village in Punjab and bitterly cold. There was chaos, no place to sleep or even warm your hands. But the locals made sure we were given tea every few hours and a blanket to keep warm. Generosity comes in different forms and sometimes knows no boundaries.

Another summer looms. From my balcony I can see the boats sailing and the bigger yachts moored. Soon the trees will be full of dates. Make that trip. You will be pleasantly surprised.

(Images: Thinkstock)

The views expressed by the author are personal. The article was first published in the blog Jo’s World. Log on to http://jomohan.wordpress.com/ for more articles by the author