Where are you? It’s hard to say. You’re in an oil-rich city named by Forbes magazine as the richest in the world, where thousands earn less than Dhs40 per day. You are in a liberal, modern city in the Gulf and a benign dictatorship run, effectively, by an absolute monarch. You are in an Islamic state, where family law is governed by Shari’ah principles, and a millionaire’s playground, where designer sunglasses, mega yachts and shopping malls are part of the daily diet.
The marketers behind Abu Dhabi seem intent on building up a world-class city with five-star hotels, art galleries and museums to rival the world. The reality, as always, is different; full of social quirks and customs, traditions and taboos. It can all be a bit peculiar, but you should get the hang of it soon enough.
Your new home
By moving to Abu Dhabi, you’re taking part in a colossal experiment. Can a major hub of commerce and tourism rise out of the desert in a generation? So far, the answer seems to be yes. Yet many other questions remain unanswered. How can Abu Dhabi attract Western tourists and businesses while remaining an Islamic country? How can it retain its identity when expat residents outnumber UAE nationals? How does Western rhetoric about delivering democracy to the Middle East apply here? And how does Abu Dhabi reduce its astronomical carbon emissions, currently one of the highest footprints in the world, or solve the problems of pollution, wealth inequality, racism, unaffordable housing and a flawed traffic infrastructure? No one really knows, and the thoughts of a new arrival are likely to be as valid and informed as a mahogany-tinged old expat.
Chances are, you’ve come for the same reasons as everybody else; tax-free earnings, sunshine, the chance to jump a few rungs on the competitive career ladder, the opportunity to travel in the Middle East and western Asia, and low crime levels. But, there are negatives too, like hidden taxes (the housing fee, for example, is effectively a tax by a different name). The cost of living is high and constantly rising, but salaries aren’t keeping up. Rents are demented, and housing regulations will seem deeply unfair to anyone that isn’t married or part of a nuclear family unit.
Then there are the questions of conscience. Even fly-by-night tourists can’t fail to notice the bus-loads of labourers who graft all year round, building Abu Dhabi’s new luxury hotels, homes, Guggenheims and Louvres et al. Most of them come from India, Bangladesh and Pakistan, live in what are openly called ‘labour camps’ and work long shifts. The free market argument is that they are better off; earning money for their families in the Gulf rather than struggling to find work back home. But stories abound of workers arriving under false pretences, collapsing in high summer temperatures and enduring dangerous conditions. Despite Abu Dhabi’s generally harmonious and tolerant outlook, you may note a degree of subtle racism – from the patronising attitude of some expats towards the service classes, to club bouncers or even shopping mall management sometimes refusing entry to groups of Indian men.
At times, Abu Dhabi can seem to be a collection of different ethnicities living in parallel and keeping to themselves rather than a mixed, multicultural society; more of a salad bowl than a melting pot. Certainly, the old order that places Emiratis at the top of the pile, followed by Westerners and then other Arabs before Asians, has shown staying power. But the increasing influence of an Asian professional class, the slow creation of democratically elected local councils, and new laws encouraging foreigners to own freehold property could change this, creating new ‘stakeholders’ in the emirate’s society. Only time will tell, and as with most developments in Abu Dhabi, that time may pass very quickly.
