Greetings from Dubai, capital of Kerala. A place so wealthy I’m not even sure the term “first world” applies. No, Dubai is where the first world comes to feel like the third world. And I’m already from the third world, so I don’t even know where that leaves me. It’s like a game of Monopoly but in real life.
Except instead of hotels and houses, everyone here builds malls and towers. And halfway through the game, the expats decide they don’t want to play anymore, and they leave their cars at the airport and go away.

Dubai sits on the coast of the Arabian Peninsula, with water at its feet and the desert on its back. So naturally, there’s a giant snow-slope you can ski on, built of artificial ice, snow, and a healthy sense of gaudiness. Everything about Dubai screams money. It’s loud, it’s flashy, and is about as subtle as a Punjabi wedding. The place is like a rich bored housewife, with too much money and too little work. Trophy wives blow this money on “careers” like “sustainable one-piece furniture made of puppies”. Dubai blows it on islands shaped like a palm tree.