March 2016
A little piece of Irish Sanity
I was so excited when my good Singapore-days friend, SL, got a job at Emirates Aviation College in Dubai. She and her family would be living in a city I transited frequently back in my Saudi days, so I was happy. After she and her hubby, RAL, got settled in Dubai, their knowledge of the emirate quickly surpassed mine. On one visit they insisted we go to the Irish Village which happened to be short walk from their place in Al Garhoud near the airport.
Places that sell alcohol in Dubai must be attached to a hotel (so they can be classified as "hotel bars" catering to international guests, I guess?). The Irish Village was located under the sloping roof of the stadium where the Dubai Tennis Open was played - great use of that empty space. With a few hotels nearby maybe the pub somehow attached itself to one of those? The city was also full of exceptions to the rules, so who knew? At any rate, there was a grassy lawn and a patio outside of the stadium and in the "non-furnace" months it was a great place to sit and have some beer in the evening.
I was absolutely stunned on my first visit to Irish Village that after all the exploring and wandering MWK and I had done, we had never stumbled across it. I loved it immediately. The interior was classic "Irish Pub" with Irish bartenders and lots of wood paneling to make the place look like "the real thing". It became one of my regular watering holes where I took guests on my frequent trips to Dubai. Most importantly when I traveled with friends from the region, it was usually the first time in their lives they saw so many Westerners gathered together in one place. The look of shock on their faces was always precious.
Of course, I had to take MWK, my longsuffering Dubai companion, first. On that visit we sat inside so he could get a feel for the place. He had some fish and chips with his beer (to be sure it was all halal - even while drinking a beer). I had bangers and mash with real pork sausages. How they managed to get pork into Dubai was a mystery since pork products in most Muslim countries are viewed on the same level as radioactive waste. MWK just stared at me in amazement and terror as I gleefully ate a proper tasting pork sausage after many months in KSA. I don't know if he expected me to morph into some demon or if he thought the sausage was going to leap off the plate and kill him. That is one of my best memories of eating out with MWK - I just love that guy.
Then there was Owais' graduation trip to Dubai with me (and MWK). I also took him to Irish Village and he was in absolute shock seeing all the women and men mixing and acting "normal" together. For a young Pakistani man who had grown up in rural Saudi Arabia, he was in utter shock. I had promised his father, Abdullah - an imam, and a dear friend, that there would be no alcohol and no women. I honored his request and Owais did not drink any alcohol (he had no interest) nor talk to any women (he was too terrified). I did want Owais to see what a bar was like and experience just a moment of Western culture. He loved the experience and thanked me repeatedly for it later. He often referenced it as the "best part of the trip".
On yet another occasion, my colleague NH from Jordan happened to be in Dubai one weekend I was there. MWK and I took him to the Irish Village and there happened to be live music and a party with dancing. NH was very educated and sophisticated, but still it blew him away. He had not travelled outside of the region. His comment that lingered with me after was: "you people sure know how to have fun". I must say - we do. After years in the Middle East, North Americans and Europeans party so much better. It's not just the alcohol. It's the idea that a party is a space that is for pure enjoyment for both sexes without too many rules. Not too many countries have such "unstructured" events existing uniquely for merriment.
The Irish Village holds great memories for me. It is one of the best places that SL and RAL introduced me to while they lived in Dubai. That little bubble of Ireland in the Gulf helped me to keep my sanity - I am forever grateful for that (and the real pork sausages).
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