Dubai

 Cars are what come to mind. The desert sun shines over the land appearing in a typical shape. What colour is the sky here? I think it is white rather than blue. A glowing ball of burning gases that has powered the growth of this city because of the plants it powered millenia ago. This is the energy of the sun in its concentrated form, beeing tapped by humans in small quantities, like an essence. The essence is available here, the bottle of perfume is still full unlike in other parts of the world, where the distance and transport costs force humans to dilute what they have and use it sparingly as though they need to ration it out over a long stretch of time. I had a daydream last night in which I saw the landmark of the city, the Burj Khalifa. Only it wasn't the Burj Khalifa. It was the Burj Automobila. The tip of this elegant tower was topped by a car...

In a desert camp about 30 kilometres from the city, two men wearing Dishdashas (that is supposed to be the name given to the headdress of the Arab men, which might have been a joke played on me) sit on swings playing with their mobile phones, unaware of the absurdity of this scene to a young woman who has come here by weird coincidences from a village on a hill in Germany. She joins them on the adjacent swings with her brother, who likes the idea of swinging high, but he notes that the swings are constructed in such a manner that this would be impossible. The siblings want to photograph the scene which appears comical to them, but they realize that the dusky lighting prohibits them from being unnoticed because they need flash. So they leave it alone and the men leave as dinner is announced, to be followed by a belly dancer's show .

There was a very Islamic geometric pattern of stars and pentagons visible on the walls and on many other surfaces all around the Dubai mall. What do people shop? Mostly, if they walk into a shop on a weekend they are looking for clothes, and the textures that come with them, clothes for the women. Women seek adornments to remain the prizes of men. Men compete with each other to gain power, so that they have a chance to get these prizes. Often this game is played openly, but in my life I have only seen the abstract version. There are many kinds of adornment and power so we have endless varieties of this game. But because I am a woman, the reason why women love clothes is known to me, and I felt pleasure at the sight of a mall dedicated to fashion. It was pleasure for every sense. The floor, smooth and perfect. The lighting does not allow you to miss the daylight. The fragrance of something lingering in the air, the temperature softly soothing your skin. This was followed by a fountain show spectacular enough to attract a crowd every half an hour, every day. I understood why when I watched the jets of water arranged in circles and loops entwining the circles in a most graceful line. The heights of the water jets and the timing was perfectly orchestrated to suit the beat of the song "Time to say goodbye". Beside the artificial water body towers the lean tapering silhouette of the Burj Khalifa. Its lights twinkling in the dark make it appear like a jewel, not loud and attention-seeking, but rather a subtle jewel that stands out in the velvety night due to its unobtrusiveness.

I have a dream of a place where the processed input into my mind from without, each pattern, is directly expressed in my surroundings. The fabric of Dubai is such that this seems within reach. A conscientious human being who is aware of the toil and the struggles that accomplish the construction and upkeep of such a city might come here and feel that every drop of blood was worth it because of the beauty that has been created. Terrible as it sounds, this city is so intoxicating that I can lose my mind in the pleasures it has offered for me in these two days. Instead of thinking of the dozens of workers living in their boxes in an unseen part of the city, my mind seems to be looking for ways to multiply the pleasure and create more avenues to ensnare the senses elusively. Dreams are made of this stuff, and in the mind of this place comfort breeds comfort. I will see if the other side of the coin is hidden well enough. I do not intend to search for it, says my mind... Let the dream go on just a bit longer...