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• Doing Dubai

  Thursday, Jun 19, 2008 12:44AM / Standard Entry / Members only

  My nomadic lifestyle had never brought me to the Middle East before, but I had a few friends in Dubai- so I decided to stopover to check it out on the way to Europe for summer holidays. What’s my impression of Dubai? Well, it has the cheesy nouveau-riche glamour of Monte Carlo, the phoniness of Las Vegas and the diverse cultural population of Singapore. Dubai has a mix of Arabs from around the region, western expats and unskilled laborers from countries like India and the Phillipines. Though many Arab women are covered up from head to toe in their black burqas, foreigners can pretty much wear what they like around town. You will get stared at if you wear something too revealing though. You can also get alcohol despite the muslim law- however some establishments do not serve it at all.

   Real estate is the biggest business in Dubai and buildings are sprouting overnight like mushrooms. Glance at the skyline and you see a city full of cranes, construction sites and half-built Arab-inspired skyscrapers. Many expats are moving to Dubai to make a quick fortune in the real estate boom, and some people are making so much money that they’re practically printing it!
  

  
  
  As a young city, Dubai is still in the process of defining itself. It has no history hence there isn’t much in the way of culture. Money is the culture. In fact, there’s so much liquid cash being thrown around in Dubai that if you’re only worth 10 million US dollars, you’re considered poor. Many inherited oil wealth and some people never worked a day in their lives so they don’t know the value of earning it the hard way. If you live or work there, at some point you’ll inevitably encounter a breed of arrogant people that think they are better than everyone else and treat others like indentured servants.  
  
  Needless to say, Dubai is very blingy with all the fancy cars, massive yachts and high-class hos clad in diamonds, gold and Cavalli. No one makes any apologies for being materialistic or for having a gas-guzzling ozone-eating sportscar or SUV. Cars are a favorite topic of conversation in Dubai. I never learned so much about car makes and models. I literally was having a conversation with these people who didn’t even say the car brand. They were just like- “The 997 is so hot but if I had a choice I’d go for a F430 or an SL5.” Then they were getting on another friend’s case for having this silver BMW convertible. They were saying it looked like a hair dresser’s car and were giving him such a hard time about it. Anywhere else that car would look good but if you’re a real dude in Dubai, you drive a Porsche, Ferrari, Maserati or Lambo. I was so lost. Did people really care about this stuff? No matter how immune you think you are to status, power and wealth, if you spend more than a week in Dubai, you will find your values shifting to find these things important.

   

  Anyhoo, I was staying in Jumeirah beach and the weather was mercifully mild and windy for the time of year. The water was as warm as bathwater and equally as clear. Cars can pull right up onto the beach. Around my hotel people were young and trendy and big groups of people would camp out and have picnics on the beach. I don’t know why but there was also a Bedouin tent set up on the beach with some camels hanging out near it.
  
  

  After beaching it all day and exploring the Mall of the Emirates, (There’s an indoor ski resort inside!), I met up with some friends for a sunset sheesha at a place called Madinat Jumeirah. Madinat is like a village which has a recreation of a historical souq and two Arabian nights themed hotels. There’s a pretty creek that has a view of Burj Al Arab, a seven star hotel which is as ostentatious as it is iconic. All along this creek are charming restaurants which are great places to watch the day turn into night.

  
  

  We inhaled the smoke of the grape and strawberry sheeshas and drank wine until some other local expats came to join us. I was entrusted to the latter party and we went to Dubai’s hottest new nightclub called ‘New Asia’. The night before, there had been 600 people lined up waiting to get in but they were filled to capacity. Luckily the peeps I was with were connected enough that it wasn’t a hassle to get in. New Asia is the Dragon-I of Dubai. There were big windows which offered an awesome view of the city and lots of people were drinking magnums of champers with the sparklers on them. Apparently this sparkler tradition was invented in Monte Carlo in the 80’s or 90’s. The crowd consisted of Lebanese, Arab and Indian Romeos macking on C-class models from Russia and Eastern Europe. There was also a sprinkling of Europeans and Americans who worked in real estate.
  
  
  
  

  One British guy we were with was so sarcastic. He was saying how one nightclub called Barasti was so bad he re-named it ‘Slim Pickins’ due to the lack of good-looking gals there. He also said that there was a handful of beauties in town but most of the girls were c-class gold diggers posing as ‘models’. This was his imaginary dialogue with one of them.
  
  

  “Hi, my name is Irena from Russia. I’m a model”

  “You’re not a model you silly tart. I wouldn’t even sleep with you. What are you modeling? your mouth around some sugar daddies cock?”
  
  

  Funnily, I shared a cab ride home with a very blonde, very tan woman who just got separated from her cheating husband. We were also sharing the cab with the funny British dude. When we dropped the blonde woman home, I could swear that she was trying to get both of us to come up to her place for a nightcap or perhaps a bit more... but we declined.

   

  The next day, all my newfound friends and I met up at the pool of the Royal Mirage to nurse away our hangovers. Royal Mirage is arguably the most beautiful hotel in Dubai. Something about it just feels ‘real’. There are manicured gardens, lovely places to eat, a pristine beach with neeto umbrellas. Even the towels were cool. We watched the sunset on the beach and checked out the yachts and all the models in g-strings that were on them. In the distance were the construction cranes of the palm Jumeirah and the sail-like silloutte of Burj Al Arab. The sun sank before it got to the horizon because apparently it disappears into the mountains of Iran in the distance. It was so windy and sandy the sky was kind of yellow and obscured the mountain range. It was still a sight to behold.
  

  

   

  In 3-5 years Dubai will be a completely different place. It’d be very interesting to revisit then. For the moment I wouldn’t say I liked Dubai as a city nor do I like the values that people have there, but I did really enjoy my experience of the city and made some amazing new friends.
  
  

   

  
  

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• Death on Dragonboat Day

  Tuesday, Jun 10, 2008 9:16AM / Standard Entry / Members only

  They say it’s all fun and games till someone gets hurt. Unfortunately, at this year’s dragon boat races in Stanley, I witnessed first-hand the true meaning of this adage. Amidst the racing, the revelry, the drumming, and the drunken antics came a stupid and tragic accident.
  
  After a few days of black rain, landslides and fallen trees, the weather auspiciously (or so we thought) cleared for race day. I wasn’t paddling this year so I had free license to roam the party boats lining the racecourse. Ferries and sampans waited at the shore to shuttle people out to the boats. I started my day at Zone B where I boarded the Time-Warner boat simply because one of my friends works for that company. Adjacent to that was the BNP Paribas luxury junk yacht where a righteous party was going on. On the other side, there were 2 JP Morgan boats lined up next to each other. My friend and I spotted someone we knew at the 2nd JP Morgan boat so we decided we’d hop over there for a visit.
  
  

  It’s common practice to hop from one boat to another but, the gap between our boat and the JP Morgan boat was wide and the railings of both boats were quite high. It was going to be challenging and somewhat dangerous to cross from boat to boat this way. A guy from the JP boat started to pull the boats closer together so we could get on, but their boat bitch started yelling at us saying they were full and we couldn’t get on. She handed us some conciliatory beer pitchers instead.
  
  

  Undeterred, we decided to hire a small sampan to take us one boat down so we could board  properly and safely. Once onboard, we climbed the ladder to get to the upper deck and I remarked how slippery the floors of the junk were due to the spillage of beer and other liquids. I was treading very lightly so I wouldn’t fall and make an ass of myself.
  
  

  People were migrating at will from one boat to the other and the DJs had the party-goers dancing with some crowd-pleasing hip-hop tunes. Incidentally, I remarked how young and alternative the crowd looked for a banker’s boat. About 50 percent of the people on the boat had had tattoos.
  
  

  Anyway, everyone was having a grand old time chatting, flirting, drinking beer, and laughing when a bunch of people went to the boat next door for a hula-hoop contest. I wasn’t sure what the winner won, but I think the loser was supposed to get his head shaved. At one point, a big crowd gathered around the adjoining boat to watch one guy getting all his hair razored. I noticed a few people crossing over the top deck to get from boat to boat and I thought to myself- gee, that’s dangerous since the decks are so slippery and people have been drinking.
  
  

  I stopped looking, but suddenly there was a big ‘Thud’ and a splash followed by a huge commotion. People started screaming “Someone’s fallen in the water!! Who is it?? Help! Someone call an ambulance! Call for help!!”  I didn’t actually see the guy fall in, but his burgundy and white trucker cap was still floating ominously on the surface. My girlfriend, who saw some of it happen, was freaking out. I asked her who it was but all she knew was the guy was really tall.
  
  

  Random people started jumping in the water after the fallen man but the water was dark and murky and it was impossible to see anything. “Goggles!! Goggles!! Does anyone have goggles?? Move the boats apart!! Turn the motors off- It’s dangerous!! Someone call an ambulance please!”
  
  

  A communal panic ensued and people’s shouts became more frantic. 5 minutes passed and the guy still hadn’t surfaced. People were still swimming around in vain looking for him in water with zero visibility. The water looked so dirty. There was a lot of garbage floating within and one guy seemed to be surrounded by an oily veil of gas from the boat’s engine.
  
  “Who was it??” People were yelling. “It was Eric Tutera” someone said. Then everyone starting yelling “Eric!!! Eric can you hear us?? ERIC!!!! ERIC!!!!” “Someone please call Eric’s cell phone!” Everyone wanted to do something to help- but in the confusion, not much could really be done.
  
  

  10 minutes passed and all the boats in the vicinity had moved off to the side exposing a potential area where the body could resurface. A few guys sped off in a powerboat to get the police to come and help, but short of having a team of rescue divers on call, not much could have been done.
  
  Police boats surrounded the area, and a helicopter flew overhead. Some guys that were dressed like the fire brigade in helmets and fireproof jackets came to the scene of the accident on an orange zodiac. People were pointing in the water but what were the firemen going to do? Dive in with their jackets and plastic helmets? A feeling of uselessness and helplessness pervaded the air.
  
  The clock kept ticking. About 20-30 minutes had passed. The crowd had lost hope that poor Eric could be rescued. Most likely he hit his head on the way down and was already unconscious when he hit the water. In that state, he probably sank directly to the bottom.
  
  

  Meanwhile the event continued- the guns at the starting line continued to blast at the start of each race, people were still cheering the paddlers on and happy unsuspecting spectators zipped by on speedboats until they were warned by police not to cross the area. People on the surrounding boats continued to drink, dance and take in the beauty of the clouds framed by the afternoon sun.
  
  

  The people on our boat were shell-shocked. One guy who had dived in to try to save Eric  was sitting at the foot of the boat with his head in his hands. A blonde girl, who possibly knew Eric personally, could no longer hold back her tears. She burst out crying and her friend took her in his arms to try to comfort her. There were group hugs and a piece of paper was being circulated to get the names and numbers of the people who witnessed the accident. There was nothing more that could be done. I heard a guy on the orange Zodiac say that divers were coming to search the area.
  
  

  They wanted everyone who didn’t actually see the accident to get off the boat so my friend and I guiltily left. Why is it when you witness someone die, that you sometimes feel like it’s your fault? We didn’t even know Eric, nor did we even meet him, but it was so very tragic. It was a really silly accident. Everyone was just drinking and having a laugh. Who knew that we’d be faced with the heaviness of our own mortality on such a festive day?
  
  

  There was a big colorful rundown of the races in the paper. They even talked about how lucky we were that the weather had cleared. However the accident garnered little more than a one line footnote. ‘An expat man in his 30’s suffered a blow to the head and fell missing in the water. The police are still searching for his body.’
  
  

  My girlfriend called me crying at 1am saying that she couldn’t sleep and she kept replaying the incident in her head. I tried to calm her down and assured her that there was nothing she could have done. At least he died quickly and painlessly.
  
   If anything can be learned from this incident, it’s two things:
  
  1. Don’t take stupid unnecessary risks- specially if your judgement has been impaired by any amount of alcohol.
  2. Live and love everyday like it may be your last because we’re all going to die someday it's just a question of when.
  
  

  Eric- if your have left us- may you Rest in Peace.
  

  
  

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• Old-fashioned romance from a secret admirer

  Monday, Jun 9, 2008 1:47AM / Standard Entry / Members only

  I was standing in front of a restaurant with a group of friends saying our good-nights and a man who was passing by  very quickly said to me- "Hey this is for you" and proceeded to put in my hand a small piece of folded paper. He passed by so fast, I didn't see his face clearly but I thought he might have been wearing glasses. I thought the note most likely had his phone number written on it and that perhaps he was handing out his number to lots of girls that night as a new experimental pick-up tactic, but when I unfolded the paper, there was a long poem-like note on it.
  
  It read:
  
  THE FIRST TIME I SAW YOU:
  I was heading up the escalator by the gym. You were sitting with a friend, having a drink and chatting. Was that an American accent I detected? The sight of you made my stomach flutter....
  
  THE SECOND TIME I SAW YOU:
  I was heading down the street and you were crossing the road toward me. We locked eyes. Maybe you've forgotten, but not I because seeing you again made my stomach flutter...
  
  THE THIRD TIME I SAW YOU:
  You looked stunning as always, just exited a taxi and wearing a yellow dress. Hmm, someone was accompanying you.... B/F?... Well seeing you again made my stomach flutter...
  
  THE NEXT TIME I SEE YOU:
  I'm giving you this note! I'm sure it will make my stomach flutter...
  
  The note was signed off with the guy's name and e-mail.
  
  I was quite taken aback by the content of the note. It was incredibly romantic and borderline stalkerish but it was indeed flattering to know you've made such a strong impression on a stranger. It's funny how someone can just look at you and spin a story around what type of person they imagine you to be. The reality is probably never quite as good as the fantasy.
  
  Interestingly, I've noticed a distinction between 'romantic' and 'stalker'. You classify crazy stunts and displays of undying affection as 'romantic' if you actually like the person back. If you don't like a person, the very same actions could be deemed 'creepy' or 'stalker'.
  
  The whole 'love at first sight' concept makes me think of some medieval fairy-tale story where some chivalrous knight sees a damsel in distress in a tower somewhere, falls madly in love and devotes the rest of his life to fighting for her. I used to think- wow that's highly unlikely, a tad irrational yet insanely romantic. As I gained more experience with men, I realized this whole chivalrous knight/ price charming concept was for the most part a farce- then stuff like this happens.
  
  It's not the dark ages, there are no men riding horses and jousting. It's 2008- a practical, progressive age when most people are single or divorced and have a jaded outlook on romantic love.  Who knows, this guy may be a weirdo stalker. To be honest, I wish I had gotten a better look at him. In any case-it's nice to know that romance does exist in this day and age :)
  
  
  
  
  
  

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• Trend-spotting at the Diesel and Coach parties

  Tuesday, Jun 3, 2008 12:01AM / Standard Entry / Members only

  The night after the bachelor auction, I dragged my tired, baggy-eyed self to the Diesel party which was taking place at the Pop TV arena in Kowloon. Despite my low batt state, I forced myself to go simply because I knew I’d be missing one of the trendsetter events of the year if I didn’t. As I am responsible for the content of hiphongkong.com, I could’t afford to pass up the opportunity to get good pics for my website. It was an extra humid night and the queue to get into the party was a mile long. Tons of people were waiting in the sticky heat to get in and somehow it seemed a bit disorganized.
  
  Once inside, people were seated for the fashion show in a room with a very long runway. As the room filled to the brim, body heat caused even more perspiration and one could smell the sweaty collective armpit of the audience. Celebs and luminaries abounded and pretty much everyone who was anyone in the fashion and entertainment biz was there including the founder of Diesel- Renzo Rosso (at least that’s who I think it was.)
  
  The fall/winter collection wasn’t super exciting. Everything was in neutral colors- predominantly grey, beige, brown, creme and there were touches of leather and fur. There was a lot of layering, scarves, and tights and skinny jeans tucked into ankle boots or platforms. I didn’t find it particularly innovative, but it looked ‘cool’ and easy to pull off.
  
  
  
  

  The afterparty was held mostly outdoors with just the stage area being covered. Behind the stage was a massive light wall which projected different images from one second to the next. It made for an extremely cool backdrop.
  
  
  
  The entertainment line-up included alterantive-rappers Paze Rock and Amanda Blank. They brought down the house and the people at the front of the stage were going mental. DJs Eli Escobar and Stretch Armstrong took to the decks afterwards. Though it was great fun, the humidity made being outdoors somewhat unbearable. On top of that, if you were dancing, you found yourself completely soaked by the end of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  On the fashion tip, one of the overwhelming trends I spotted for summer is the unforgiving short shorts. Man, got to get to the gym to do some running and squats!  White with touches of neon was also very popular. There were also loads of people wearing black and white, stripes and even polka dots. The style was still very much a tribute to the late ’80s early ‘90s. Overall it was a very colorful party.
  

  This is the link to all the Diesel party pics:
  http://hiphongkong.com/party-photos/hong-kong/diesel_2008.htm
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The event commemorating the opening of the Coach store in Central took place two nights later. This party was also extremely fashionable but in dressy way as opposed to an underground way.  It was a label whore’s dream. Time to dust off the Christian Louboutain shoes or the ‘special’ outfit you bought at Harvey Nics that you never had the occasion to wear! In fact, there were reports that Harvey Nics and Lane Crawford were jammed with people buying outfits particularly for this event- and boy were people dressed to the nines! Here are all the party pics. There's too many to post all of them.
  

  http://hiphongkong.com/party-photos/hong-kong/coach_2008.htm
  
  
  
  
  As soon as I walked in, DJ Tommy was on the decks and I already started to feel the groove. The crowd had the highest concentration of attractive people I had seen ever in one place in Hong Kong. It seemed like just about every model or psudeo-actress that ever blew through this town was there. There wasn’t a whole lot of conversing going on. It was mainly champagne-drinking, dancing, air-kissing and telling people how fabulous they looked. The event was a great photo op for my website. There was so much champagne flowing that at the end of the night one guy poured a bottle of Moet on another guy just to prove that ‘even regular blokes can bathe in champagne.’
  
  

  One of the highlights of my night was the John Mayer performance. I’m a huge fan of his as I’m learning how to play guitar and I love his music. He’s not hard on the eyes either- I must say- and hundreds of Hollywood starlets will agree with me too. I was up at the front row, singing along, feeling the music and screaming Woot! But I guess John Mayer was not impressed by the Hong Kong audience. I heard through the grapevine that he was sulking in his hotel room because his ego was hurt by the indifference of the audience.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  DJ AM- Nicole Ritchie’s stomach-stapled, ex chubby, ex fiancée was up on the decks spinning a bit later. He played all kinds of stuff even AC/DC and Guns and Roses! He didn’t look like he was having much fun either despite the gaggle of girls groupizing him at the front and taking pictures with their cell phones. Boy did he get everyone dancing though!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  The overwhelming trend at this party was dresses. Either mini or maxi-style (long to the bottom) Bold colors, especially yellow, seemed to be very in and one girl even dared to wear her gladiator white high-heeled sandal-boots! Wowee.
  
  
  
  

  
  

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• Bachelors for sale- come on, it's for charity..

  Monday, Jun 2, 2008 6:38AM / Standard Entry / Members only

  I’m exhausted from the social tornado that blew through Hong Kong was last week. It all started on an unsuspecting Tuesday when a girlfriend put together a table of ‘Sex and the City’ types for a charity bachelor auction. Funnily, the charity benefited women with emotional issues. Most women I know have emotional issues, including myself, so I thought- “Are they going to give us back the money we paid for dinner?” LOL! In any case, any occasion that gives you and excuse to get glammed-up is always a good one. I decided to bust out my backless Cavalli gown for the evening.
  
  

  
  This is Roberto. He's a tennis coach that was
  being auctioned. He was too expensive for me though!
  

  
  

  I pitied the poor bachelors who were on auction. Our table was suddenly intoxicated over multiple bottles of wine and we became a noisy peanut gallery. We were acting more like we were at Chippendales as opposed to some decorous banquet where people were wearing dressy cocktail attire. In any case, it was a good thing we had our wine goggles strapped on tightly as the bachelors looked way better. In addition, their foolish onstage antics in an attempt to impress the ladies was not quite as embarrassing.
  
  There was a salsa dancer, a tango dancer, a guitar player, a crooner and a comedian. One guy who went to the prestigious Julliard music school played the flute- of all things- to a completely hushed audience. The acts got racier toward the end when 4 tennis instructors came out in leotards and ruffled shirts did some jolly Scottish dancing. Following that, there was one guy dressed as a butler with nothing on but and apron and a fake butt. Then, a guy dressed as a construction worker came on and proceeded to build a cardboard house to the tune of “Everybody’s Working for the Weekend”. He threw his shirt saucily into the audience at the end of his skit exposing his muscle-bound chest. I could just see him doing extra bench presses and push-ups for weeks prior to the auction! Hehe..  The closing act was a bunch of guys dressed up as the Village People.- Hang on a sec- was this a gay bachelor auction?? Oh well, we had fun dancing to YMCA in any case.
  
  Our table bought 5 of the bachelors. The guys fetched between 4000 HKD and went as high as 20,000! Funnily, both of the guys that had the highest bids were tennis instructors. (So the poolboy/ tennis instructor fantasy is true! ) At the end of the day, the girls really didn't want to go out with the bachelors they 'bought' but it was a good laugh and it was for a good cause!- and no, we did not get our money back for dinner.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

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