How to get into the UAE

I've got off the Emirates Airbus A380 many times before to visit my parents and brother who moved to Dubai in 2008. This time it's different - it's a one way ticket...

This blog is for my friends back home in Toronto/Hamilton/Ajax/Mississauga, I already miss you guys! and I hope that this will keep us close for the next 2 years or so.

Honestly, nothing can keep me entertained for 13 hours other than my BLACKBERRY!! The "ICE" programming on emirates has well over 200 movies and TV series... and yet, nothing held my attention for over 20 minutes. I tried to watch "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" and failed.. "Remember Me" - FAIL. "Vampire Diaries" - EPIC fail. So I pretty much ate, slept and read a little bit of Nelson Mandela's autobiography that I bought the day before just incase this happened. Books are great back-up plans.

I also watched a fat indian kid for a good part of the journey. For those who dont know - I LOVE FAT CHILDREN. This one was especially special cause he reminded me of Manny from "Modern Family" cause he looked like a little man and wore a serious expression on his chubby little face. Later he walked into the aircraft's washroom barefoot - I gagged and ended that fascination quickfast. Yuck!

FINALLY - I got off the aircraft and got into the massive and also gorgeous Dubai airport. I've been here before, but again - this felt different. I walked into the immigration area feeling good until I saw the massive line ups... 12 counters with a 30 minute line up for each. It's time for a washroom break - I need to freshen up before anything at this point.

As I was coming out of the washroom (feeling much better) I see fat indian kid running (ok, more like rolling) to a counter with no line-up and a disabled sign over top. Obvi he got DENIED... I looked over at the officer at the counter and laughed a little - he shot back a smile at me. Interesting, should I give this line-up a shot? I decided not to push my luck and lined up behind one of the regular ones and once again missed my phone. Hmph.

Suddenly, I see this guy waving me down. I looked around to make sure it was me first. He had the whole Arab get-up and obviously worked at the airport. He waved me down and brought me to the disability-only line up. The officer that flashed me a smile previously said welcome and gestured for me to come through his counter. I was not about to deny this!  He smiled; "I love people that play music" ... I went blank for a second until I realized I was carrying a guitar on my back. In reality, I can play about three chords- it was my Dad's guitar. "Thank you, I appreciate it!" I smiled a guilty smile. CHACHING! I was through immigration - just like that. My bags were waiting for me at the carousel as I got there and ofcourse, I hit up the duty free for some booze before I headed out.

My parents and brother were there to pick me up "Hey Chinky, you look like a hippie with ur guitar" -don't forget my baggy denim shirt, birks, tights, long hair and booze.
I'm HOME!

I wonder how I would look when I leave two years from now.