Swine Flu

Last May, I contracted the worst flu that I have ever had. With nothing moving too quickly in the emirates, it came on like a car creeping through rush hour traffic, reaching its peak one night at Al Zahra Hospital. My temperature surpassed 39 degrees Celsius (over 102 Fahrenheit) which felt exceptionally brutal given the temperatures outside surging to their highs for the year. With an IV in my right arm, two bags of saline solution and a candy-apple green antibiotic eased their way into my bloodstream. In the hour or so that I lay there, I could feel my body temperature drop and the most brutal symptoms of the flu dissipate. While the symptoms did not disappear altogether, my health improved over the next few days. What was the doctor's original diagnosis?

Hepatitis A?

(The question mark was part of the diagnosis).

For the next week, I assured myself that the doctor was being over-cautious as my health returned to normalcy. That was until ten days later when the same symptoms struck again, except this time not quite as forcefully. The thought that I might have Hep A continued until I left the UAE for the summer and came home where the illness did not strike again. What the doctors that I saw did not consider (at least vocally) was that it might be the H1N1 virus. The one response I did hear was from one of my students who joked/teased me that maybe I had the swine flu.

That was before the swine flu scare hit the country. Fears of a swine flu outbreak filled the media throughout the summer. Last spring, H1N1 was covered most nights in the news but it was always something that was happening to someone else. It was treated as the natural consequence of what happens to people who live around such a filthy animal. Now, the swine flu scare permeates the entire news. Each night, a different story documents how a different sphere of society is addressing concerns about the swine flu. Frequent coverage also asks individuals to discuss what they are doing to prevent the swine flu (anything from washing their hands more to wearing masks to isolating their family from strangers or food prepared outside the house). Finally, most stories conclude with a small summary of what preventative measures should be taken when you are in crowds (My favorite being text messages being sent out over the Eid holiday to warn people not to greet each other by kisses on the cheek or touching noses).

In a country made up of a majority of expatriates, many of whom are traveling throughout the summer, some of the fears about the spread of flu are warranted. Combined with the warm humid climate, the UAE could be seen as a perfect atmosphere for the H1N1 virus to thrive. However, the intense media coverage and public concerns have created a very different atmosphere than when I was sick last spring. At school, parents are withholding their children from starting at the normal times, wanting to keep their children out until they are positive that they are not putting their child at risk. Nursery and and preschools in Abu Dhabi are rumored to be closed indefinitely while schools that have opened are reporting some of the lowest student turnout ever (Schools Reopen, but H1N1 concern forces low turnout--the comments at the bottom of the article give a particularly vivid example of the public feeling). At our school, each class now has its own hand sanitizer, signs have been posted in the bathrooms for how to wash your hands, and parents have been told that if their child show any signs of the flu they will be restricted from coming to school for one week. At Julie's early years campus, teachers who show serious flu symptoms have also been asked to stay home for at least a week.

In a place where the virus was once treated at an arms length, now everyone is screened at the airport and people with a minor cold are flocking to hospitals to ensure that they haven't come down with the dreaded sickness. Women using their scarves to cover their faces have become part of the landscape in malls. Travel agents have noted a major reluctance to go abroad. It's been odd coming back to all of these symptoms of the public fear of a swine flu outbreak. Coming back after being gone for the summer and seeing these symptoms of the public fear of the H1N1 virus, it's a big change from joking last spring that my claim to fame might be the first case of swine flu in the UAE.

09/09/09 at 9:09

09/09/09 at 9:09 PM the Dubai Metro began its inaugural run. A procession of dignitaries and government supporters followed Sheikh Mohammed, the ruler of Dubai. He was shrouded in his token gold kandora and they in their white ones. As he eased his way through The Gallery in the Mall of the Emirates, his cavalcade followed suit, waddling their way up two escalators, two moving walkways, and through several air-conditioned corridors. Fireworks and clamor greeted the crowd as they arrived at the metro station. But this was not the end of the inaugural run. They stopped at each of the ten open stations for Sheikh Mohammed to read his poetry, cut ribbons, and further commemorate Dubai's miracle of moving from camels to this celebration of the first Metro in the Gulf, all in less than forty years.

A couple of weeks later, Julie and I inaugurated our first trip on the Metro. It was not quite the spectacle as the opening ceremony, but it was indeed a spectacle to be seen. After looping the seven-level parking lot for a spot to park, we made our way to the station.

Our expectations that the Metro wouldn't be crowded on Eid al-Fitr (the Muslim holiday after the holy month of Ramadan), were quickly found out to be false. The station was packed. There were lines for men leading to the ticket counter. Lines of women leading to the ticket counter. Lines to swipe your Nol (fare) card to get on the train. Luckily, one of the many RTA (Roads and Transit Authority) employees that the emirate hired for the launching of the Metro directed us to one of the unused ticket machines. Swiping our newly acquired cards, we rode the escalator to a train awaiting departure. The two-thirds full train left a couple minutes later to the glee of everyone on board. Cameras and cell phones captured the view of Dubai from the elevated tracks. Sailing past several mosques, the airport, and the heart of Deira, the train dropped underground, swooping under the Dubai Creek. In Bur Dubai, on the other side of the creek and above ground again, the Metro begins its parallel course along Sheikh Zayed Drive--the main thoroughfare through the heart of Dubai. Past the Emirates Towers, the Burj Dubai, car dealerships, and industrial areas we were soon arrived at the Mall of the Emirates, a little over half an hour after we left the opposite side of Dubai.

Backtracking along the dignitary's path from a couple weeks earlier, we made our way past the several signs warning that the station would close if too many people were present. Ignoring the signs and their imminent foreshadowing, we soon passed Borders and a Coldstone Creamery and we were in the mall, never having to face the 109 degree heat outside. After our day of mall-walking we followed the signs up two escalators to the metro station. Unfortunately, a crowd(cum-mob?) stood in our way of the moving walkways and the several air-conditioned corridors to the train itself. In a country that has no large public gatherings outside of the occasional winter concert it was an obvious mess. As the crowds built up behind and beside us, we were obviously not the only ones with the idea of taking the metro on Eid. Thinking that people would be with their family did not necessarily mean that they would not go out with their family. Instead, it was like people in the US going out for a movie on Christmas afternoon.

We spent the first forty minutes in a crowd of over 500 people, all pushing our way towards the automatic doors that were opened by security for about 30 seconds every 5-10 minutes. Next, we were herded into the moving walkways, now turned off, used merely for crowd-control. Twenty five minutes later we were raced with the crowd onto the waiting train, filling the four cars (the fifth was for Gold-class passengers) to their brink. When we arrived, the women and children's car had already been invaded by men. In a place were obedience to authority is the norm (with the most imminent threat being deportation with spending time in a local jail near behind that), the security guards were unable to restrict people from coming in the car. At the first station, another guard came in and asked the 34 other men and I to move from the women-only car. With the other cars being even more full than this one, all of us looked at him in disbelief and he abandoned his mission as as the train's automatic doors closed down. The car went through the same routine as the train arrived in the next station with similar results. As the car started emptying out, four stops later, the men in the train only then moved to the next car. Arriving in Rashidya Station, Julie and I were worn out. We walked by even more crowds waiting to board the trains, most likely making their way to the Mall of the Emirates. Julie and I wanted to warn them to turn around.

On the short drive back to our flat we made up chants in case we faced this situation again and their actually was a riot. "Don't Go, Metro," "Say No to the Metro," and "Drive Don't Ride" were the best we came up with. Back home, thinking of the opening of the metro, the hour that it took us to get to the train was the one similarity between our trip and the royal procession from 09/09/09. The train itself was amazing and once the remaining stations and lines begin to open in the next several months, it will only become more convenient. Hopefully, they'll work out the "kinks" and with the tracks fully completed be able to cycle trains in and out of the main stations quicker than every ten minutes.

So even if it wasn't on the cover of every newspaper across the world, as some of the local commentators predicted, it is still a milestone in the city's development. Still, Julie and I won't be riding it anytime soon, but it was fun.