Cultures and Colours at Dubai Airport
Taxi into Dubai Airport past multiple rows of terminals and planes, disembark, follow the crowd, that’s easy enough. Luggage checked through to final destination, that’s easy. Through customs and follow the masses once more. ‘Hang on’ , they are all going in different directions. ‘Now where did I put that ticket‘? Check in , ‘where is that’? People seem friendly enough, but for a language barrier, so pointing, along with diagrams, lines and circles on the back of my ticket with a note, 20 minute walk was to suffice.
Hordes of people of all makes and models dressed in their authentic dress politely but busily making their way this way and that. In my mission of tunnel vision, a distinct tugging on the back of my shirt resembles a good size fish biting on a line. The anxious look of a handsome Asian woman clearly lost and distraught meets my eye. I attempt to converse, but no response, reminding me of a really nice guy I once played rugby with that was both deaf and dumb. She hands me a note. It reads, ‘Can you please help me’? Good Lord, talk about blind leading the blind. I check the time, I’ve plenty. I think to myself, ‘Come on Dave, we’ll figure it out’.
I constantly turn to see her follow as if obediently. Her anxiety grows as we confront a train ride as the next step. She restores faith in me when an official looking person hand signaled, ‘we are on the right course’. Finally find her boarding gate, ‘Ho Chi Minh City’. I think, ‘an interesting story there I bet, if only we could speak’. For the first time, I see a smile, I hold out my hand to bid farewell, she doesn’t take, but grabs it with cold clammy hands expressing her obvious gratitude.
Why she picked me I’m not sure, but I am delighted. Although we didn’t have any conversation, her clear relief, gratefulness and change of manor made me feel good. On reflection, a gratifying little adventure. Easy enough.