Citizen Reporter

The Taxi Driving Best-Selling Author of Dubai

“What do you do sir?” – I’m a journalist. “I’m a journalist!” -Yes, I am a journalist. “No, I’m telling you I am also a journalist sir and I have written three books in Urdu.”

My driver is Mohammed, originally from Peshawar, Pakistan, making his home in Dubai for the past 5 years. When he hears that I am a journalist, his eyes light up and he hands me a book as we drive out of Media City on a quiet Saturday night.

“Currently I am reading this one sir, it is by a very popular writer in my country.” – He hands me a book with some English text on the cover “The Secrets of Persuasive Speech.” I’m surprised to have been handed a self-help book, but he gives me no time to think about it, as he goes back to explaining how he has travelled extensively in Afghanistan for research. When I tell him I have worked in Afghanistan he gets even more excited. “You won’t believe it sir, my research has been the Talibanization of Afghanistan. I have been to almost all provinces and my book sold 20,000 copies.”

Mohammed sits low in in the drivers seat, he has very few hairs left on his head, and I get the impression as he speaks with such enthusiasm that he hasn’t had the opportunity to explain these things in a very long time. “My other two books were on Islamophobia, as perhaps you know, after 9/11 there was much hatred towards muslims coming from the west. Even in Europe with the mosque referendums (Switzerland reference) and head cover bans (France and others), there has been a lot of prejudice.I have written on this topic but these books have also been contreversial in my country. My region is very dangerous unfortunately, I came here and now I drive a taxi.” This transition from best selling (Urdu language) author to taxi driver is what doesn’t add up in my ignorant brain. As he goes on about how many copies each book sold, I find myself confused and unable to get him to explain how his books offended people to the point that he left the country. I try to ask again but to no avail, Mohammed is speaking with authority now on topics like corruption and religion. Both of which he believes the Emirates have gotten right and his home country has gotten wrong.

“In Pakistan our leaders, even the ones people love so much like Sharif and Bhutto, they are corrupt. They use fear and religion to get votes, scaring people into supporting them. And you know what happens when you have such corruption…” We drive passed a cavalcade of sky scrapers, each with its own futuristic design and blinking light array. In the eyes of this veteran of the media and transportation world, the rulers of the UAE have done things right. “They have vision! Not corruption. Vision and planning,” he points at a whole series of overpasses that seem to twirl around in beautiful patterns in between luxurious office buildings and 5 star hotels with names like Shangri-la and Ritz Carleton. – And oil? – I throw in just to see what reactions this causes. But he is not phased, “Yes, they have the oil, but they invest in their country. Not like other oil nations.”

As we approach our destination Mohammed’s volume lowers a bit, from school teacher tone to friendly neighbor, “But many people when you talk religion or money, they forget we are all just humans. We should be equal. When I sit here talking to you, I talk to you like an equal. We could be best friends the way we are talking. Doesn’t matter your religion or your job. But there is a force in this world trying to keep us from realizing this. Unfortunately.”

Like a cliffhanger at the end of an episode of your favorite television drama, we arrive at our destination, and the conversation stops abruptly. I pay the bill and he we exchange names. Despite all the other things we could have talked on about, it was the end of the ride. He extends his hand, “Pleasure to meet another journalist. I wish you good luck in life!” – I wished him the same as I shook his hand and said goodbye.

A Decade of Driving in Dubai

Mr. X seemed a bit miserable and quiet when I threw myself into his front seat. He seemed to be talking to himself somewhat and I slowly removed the soundless headphones from my ears. “Were you listening to something very closely, like your music? – I though you were. Maybe it is just habit?” I look over at the brown skinned smiling gentleman in his 60’s with streaks of silver in his dark sideburns. – You’re absolutely correct, it is a bad habit of mine.

That is how the conversation starts, the subject of audio in one’s ears is a gateway for me to bring up radio and my passion for recording stories. Mr. X, an Indian gentleman who has been driving in Dubai for over a decade, is amused, “So you record people’s stories, like who?” — Like you — I tell him. Watch, I’ll show you, and to his consternation I’ve got the recorder and microphone out and on before he can say another word. “So I just talk about me? My life? My work?” — Yes I tell him. I want the world to know that there are people inside and around this shiny buildings, that make the city what it is today.

Mr. X considers this idea and lets out a big laugh and licks his lips, “Ok then, let us try it!”

Arriving in Dubai, Taxi Ride #1: Nagi from Egypt

It is 2am in the morning and I have finally made my way out of the city in an airport known as Dubai Airport. It is late, but you would never know it in an airport where there is no night or day, only departures and arrivals. As I exit towards the taxis I am immediately directed to the familiar beige and red vehicles lined up in three rows, several cars deep. They’re moving quickly, loading luggage, a quick greeting to passengers, and off they go, probably towards one of the thousands of hotels in this town.

My driver greets me in English, unsurprisingly, as that is the lingua franca of this part of the Emirates. On our way out of the taxi area, he hangs out the window and has a quick joke in Arabic with a parking attendant and a security guard. I can tell he comes here often. As I sit up in the front seat I wish him good evening in both English and Arabic, which surprises him in a pleasant way. He responds almost like it is a reflex and then takes a second look at me, “You are Pakistani? Pakistan or at least- you are muslim?” He asks gleefully. I seem to intrigue him. I’m sporting a high quality dark blue dress shirt that I overpaid for in Portugal just before my grandfather’s funeral this past autumn. I have a fairly good beard, short hair that isn’t very short anymore, and my dark Portuguese brown eyes of course. And as for the Pakistan angle, well, it is dark and late.

His name is Nagi, which makes me think of the great writer Naguib Mahfouz. Like Mahfouz, my taxi driver, it turns out, is from Egypt. Ishamiliya specifically, and he is very excited when he learns that I’ve worked in Egypt recently. We talk of the friendliness of the people there, “In Egypt, even people you don’t know, they are friendly and helpful. Even a poor person, a poor person with no money, someone will still say to them how are you here have this food or something.” Of course, Nagi points out, this changed when Morsi came. “The fucking Morsi comes and suddenly everyone is angry all the time, so much anger in my country now.” I knew of this sentiment and felt quite a bit of it in Egpyt just one year ago, but I also remembered the joy of being in Tahrir where people were welcoming and cheerful. “Yes, in Tahrir now, people are friendly and they have a good spirit.”

As he attempts to speed towards Jumeirah, we pass the world famous Burj Khalifah, Nagi points to the speedometer, “The company doesn’t let these cars go over 120. I want to go faster, but they fixed it so it will not go.” -Big difference from Egypt, I suggested to him. -He burst out laughing. “Taxi’s in Cairo? Forget it. You never know what you will get or if it will be clean or the driver honest. No. It is in not good. Cairo is crazy and dirty.”

15 years ago Nagi came to Dubai to work, which seems to have quickly become taxi driving after a few stints as a grocer, “Many Egyptians in the UAE, many thousands, I know many Egyptians here who drive cabs.” He goes on to talk about the lack of work in Egypt, both for Egyptians and foreigners. Not like here, “here everyone is a foreigner” he points out several times.

The conversation comes back to my interest in Arabic and my muslim look. I explain that I have North African ancestors, because they controlled Portugal for 700 years. I tell him of my dad who could easily be taken as Moroccan, and my mom who could be “English” he correctly suggests as I try to think of a good contrast. “Yes, in Egypt, in Alexandria, we have many people of Greek decent. Actually it was part of Greece, so many people look and maybe act Greek sometimes. But the rest of the country is just Egyptian.” I decide to throw in another source of the Egyptian look (there are actually many), I tell him of my Egyptian friends with Armenian names. “Ah yes.. Yes many people with Armenian ancestry in Egypt also.” The more we drive, the more ideas and facts seem to pop into our heads and roll out to the conversation.

For the remainder of this 20 minute taxi ride we talk about the media. Somehow in speaking of Egypt he mentions a recent vacation he took with him family to Sharm-el-Sheik. “The media says, there are no tourists, they are scared… but I go to Sharm for vacation, all I see is tourists. No one even speaks arabic when I try to speak to them. But the media lies, they say this isn’t happening.” For several minutes we swap examples of how journalists only tell one version of Egypt, the negative scary one. Nagi is pretty commited to the explanation that they are simply liars. I let that stand for a few minutes and then suggest they want to create drama and negative conflict stories are more attractive in their eyes than the “things are good” stories. Nagi agrees. The media creates their own drama. Again we find our common ground.

We arrive at my destination and out of the joy of hearing me speak some arabic, we count off the towers in the Jumeirah Lake area. He laughs about the uniqueness and universal appeal of the Egyptian accent. We shake hands, exchange information for future airport trips, and he wishes me well. Off he drives back towards Dubai international airport. Surely at 3am there must be some flight arriving from somewhere.

And so it begins…

Creativity as a Way of Life: From Hamburg to Beijing and Back Again

Much can be learned from 30 years of watching the international hacker community develop, or a decade of watching China do the same. From the broadcast area of the 30th Chaos Communication Congress in Hamburg, Germany, this week I am joined by internet audio pioneer Tim Pritlove and the guru of all things blinking and TV turning off, Mitch Altman. Together we discuss just what is and has happened at this world famous event this year and what it all means for the big picture of work, life, and tube messaging.

Unintended Changes

I started this blog under a different title and with a different purpose over 11 years ago. Back then I was moving my life from Portugal to the Netherlands, writing about my travels and things happening in the world. Writing both for me as well as my friends and a few strangers who were crazy enough to read me. My philosophy was write when I want, write often, and try to be creative. It was, as always, personal, spontaneous, and honest.

Somewhere along the way things changed of course. As did my life. A neverending list of interesting adventures came my way and a changing outlook on my style of media and what I wanted to do here resulted in a podcast, a focus on what I call “under reported news”, and strangely enough – an attempt to look more professional or serious. I think that I realized I want this to be my career and I got busy trying to make it look like one. Like so many things in life, keeping up appearances sometimes becomes as important (unfortunately) as the real heart and drive behind something. Want to be hired or funded? Put up a front like you’re an experienced pro and the world will believe you’re an experienced pro.

Happily, the experience part actually did happen as time went on, I’ve amassed a unique and fantastic collection of media producing experiences that I’m proud of and make me uniquely qualified in this world. Uniquely qualified sounds more lucrative than it actually is, I still struggle every month to pay my bills and figure out how I’m going to make a living 3 months from now. But that if we put aside that common problem many of us share, this work I’ve done has still led me in a really special direction.

What I do lament is how during this whole process I began to write less. To over think everything out of fear of making a mistake or wasting my energy. This place was once an open canvas for working out ideas together with an audience. But in the name of looking professional and not appearing vulnerable, I shifted more towards publishing my weekly program and in between some first hand observations and notes from the field.

The point? Sometimes I miss the old days. I definitely miss writing without fear or certainty of what my point is. All this posturing as a media professional hasn’t brought me a stable or lucrative career. It may have earned me respect among the more conventional journalists out there. But I lost something essential about who I am and what i love to do. That is to tell stories, to bring forward other people’s stories, and to increase understanding of who we are as humans in this world and how we could do that old cliché thing of making it a better world than it was before we each appeared on the scene.

What to Expect in the City of Gold

As part of preparations for the Dubai Taxi Driver project, this week on the podcast we discuss what to expect inside and outside the car in one of the world’s most famous cities. My guest is Agnes Tandler, a Dubai based journalist who has been taking taxi’s almost everyday for the past 4 years. In her experience, anytime you get into a cab in the “city of gold”- you’re in for a surprise.

Also this week, the Dubai Taxi Driver project countdown begins, with 4 days left to join the kickstarter funding campaign, and 1 month before the journey starts. If you haven’t yet been to the page, read the plan, or watched the video, click over now as time is running out!

At the beginning of the podcast this week you will also hear music by Neighbor from their new album “Water in the Pocket.” Highly recommended.