Halfway across town I discovered Five Green, a bright shop that sold Edwin jeans from Japan, fancy sneakers and lots of Paul Frank T-shirts — all of which I could get cheaper back home
By evening, I arrived at the Mall of the Emirates, the biggest in Dubai, where I wandered among the rich tourists and richer locals (one of whom was carrying, for no discernible reason, a riding crop), hoping I would stumble upon a Zen Buddhist monastery and spend the rest of the weekend in thrifty, silent meditation.
Instead, I came face to face with Ski Dubai, the indoor ski center with a vertical drop of 60m, and I knew that, before the weekend was out, I would have a face full of fake snow.
I zipped over to the Mall of the Emirates, plunked down 160 dirhams for a two-hour pass (ski pants, socks, jacket and locker rental included), bought a cheap pair of gloves (60 dirhams), and was on the lift in five minutes. Less than an hour later, I was done — the joy of snowboarding in the desert couldn't make up for the dullness of the terrain.
What I wanted from Dubai was not preconceived amusements but the accidental by-products of globalization.
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