#6 - One stall in Dubai's spice souk, which you smell before you see.

The souk is a dizzying overload of the senses. It is a maze of a marketplace where merchants wave watches at you and pursue you with perfume. Each row of vendors leads to yet another row; they are all connected within the walls and wooden roof, and every turn takes you deeper into the labyrinth. You stroll past stall after stall, each stuffed with whatever wares are being sold there: fruit, fabric, jewelry, rugs, books, scarves, shoes. The goods spill from the stalls into the aisles, cluttering the already cramped walkways. Air conditioners hum amidst the haggling, their breezes providing brief pockets of cool air as you pass by. Otherwise, the air is heavy with heat and soaked with sundry scents: now frankincense, now fresh fruit, now fried food. Fabrics are stacked and hung and draped everywhere, their vivid colors popping from every corner, competing with the bright baubles for your attention. And throughout, the textures tempt you to touch. Smooth seamless scarves. Sacks of spices. Silk.

The souk we visited in Muscat (Oman) was the hub of the city. The locals go there for everything they need. And, of course, shopping at the souk is a social outing. In Dubai, there are several souks. The spice and gold souks are especially esteemed. But in Dubai, the role of the souk is shifting. The trinkets are now targeted at tourists. Locals rarely visit the souks; instead, they spend their money at shopping centers. The mall has become the modern market.

I noticed that people in Oman always discussed Dubai with a tone of disapproval. Nothing was said outright, but the Omani opinion was obvious. Only the lifeguard at our hotel in Muscat offered uncouched criticism: "In Dubai, the buildings are so tall. Here, we keep them low. Here, we plan for the future."

By all appearances, Dubai is the one investing in the future. And in terms of progress, their plans are paying off. But in Oman, there's a different sensibility. Oman is rural and sparsely populated and more traditional. They are hopeful for the future while maintaining reverence for the past. In Dubai, it seems that in planning ahead they have forgotten to look back.

In a Vanity Fair article about Dubai, Nick Tosches discusses searching for Old Town, a section of the city for which he has seen advertisements, only to be told that Old Town hasn't yet been built. Indeed, in a city that seems well on its way to having anything and everything to offer, the one noticeable neglect is its own history and heritage.

It's there if you look hard enough. The history of Dubai can be found tucked away in a secluded spot where the original foundation of the city wall is unceremoniously on display. It's (maybe) 10 feet in length, six inches tall, and is marked by a sign that, while official-looking, offers very little elaboration on the history of the city.

There is also the Dubai Museum, which does a good job preserving the past - you know, for tourists. And there are traditional dhow ships that line the river bank...offering dinner cruises for tourists.

And then there's Bastakia, the historical district which is being restored. I think it might actually be real, but it feels so faux. The restoration has left everything all shiny and new. As Rob remarked, Bastakia is like Olive Garden - it's attempting to look authentic, but it still feels like a facade. One with strategically placed cracks in the plaster and paint that's chipping off for effect.

And that's also the sense I got of Dubai. It has gone to great lengths to make itself attractive to the world, donning a veneer of glitz and glam and glitter. The former fishing village is focused on the future, eager to leave its history behind in a cloud of (construction) dust, exhuming its cultural heritage only in ways that might attract more tourists.

It almost seems Dubai has sold its soul for the sake of progress. Which reminds me: I never heard adhan while I was there. The sounds of the city drown out the traditional call to prayer. And the souks give way to malls and the buildings climb higher in the sky... and such is progress.