What’s Your Story

We are all nothing more than the sum total of our experiences with other people. It defines us, makes us who we are and these interactions can make our lives either a joyful paradise or a living hell. We all have a story, of someone who took us under their wing, or someone who gave a timely hand when it was needed the most, who introduced us to our next job offer or put us on the path to our dreams. There are the everyday people who make our lives simpler or more miserable… our maids, the security guard, the guy at the carwash, the lady at the checkout, the irascible boss and the femme fatale secretary, the helpful colleague or the friend you make at the local sandwich shop… every single one of these plays a part in the story of our lives. In big ways, and small.

The fantastic thing about Dubai is that, from the moment you arrive, you’re thrown into the deep end of humanity’s pool and you encounter all sorts, from all sorts of places. It’s a cultural immersion like no other, and with this confluence of races and identities you get a heady cocktail of people that is absolutely addictive. I have met world renowned architects, professional expat wives, fascinating taxi-drivers and retired policemen, wealthy bankers and poor waiters… and each of them had a story that formed mine.

This story however is about just one of the many people I met in Dubai. It’s the story of the impact she had on my life. It’s a simple story, one that plays out every day in Dubai or any other place. One that doesn’t make it into books and movies. But these stories are worth telling.

It’s about a young girl who I shared a home with. And home it was, even though it was just a room with a bathroom and a cracked shower unit. But she made it home for me. She was so young when we met, but she had the wisdom of Buddha. And we would stay up late into the night discussing life, love and men, jobs and futures and we would fall asleep, our ears filled with the sound of each other’s voices. She went to work before I did. And to this day I remember the harsh blare of her nasty, green alarm clock that would wake me up, but never her. I would leap out of my bed in shock every morning and in fury turn it off and then shove her awake. We cooked sausages in a kettle, we went for long walks by the sea, we shared our clothes and we both did our first desert safari together.