Saturday, November 04, 2006

Hyderabad

Chapter 3: A Walk in the Marina
Chapter 4

Abdul Rahim sat at his computer in the office of his small trading company in Hyderabad, India.
Dear Bruce,

I'm concerned about the progress--or lack thereof--on work at the MAG 218 construction site. These fellows have been saying for months that they were going to be at this or that stage and they still haven't even dug a bloody hole in the ground...
He went on about the apparent delays and about whether our investments were really safe.

After sending off the email he left the office and went to the crowded central market in Secunderabad to pick out some fresh fruit to take home. Secunderabad was midway between his office in the central city and the suburbs where he lived. He travelled by bus to Secunderabad and then by train from there. The infrequency of the train runs usually left time for him to make a quick detour to the central market. If he didn't buy fresh produce, he would at least get a bite of his favorite snacks, chicken pakodas or moong-bean kalmi (both deep-fried flour paddies).

In order to purchase a flat in the MAG 218 tower, Abdul Rahim had to make big sacrifices. He had shelved plans to expand his business and, as uncomfortable and inconvenient as it was, he continued to live with his wife's family in the bedroom town of Borabanda, some 30 kilometers out of the city. The flat, he told himself and his wife, would be either a retirement home for them or a place for either of their two children to settle in after completing their studies. He saw in Dubai, with its reputation as a trading hub and a pioneer in new industries, a future for both himself and his children.

Having worked with his father and uncles in an old trading house in central Hyderabad some 20 years earlier, he later struck out on his own and established the limited venture, A. Rahim Equipment and Parts. Although his family had dealt in textiles and shoes, the boom in the hi-tech industry convinced Abdul Rahim that electronic gadgets were the future. He would at least remain true to the family tradition of trading, but in goods more relevant to the times.

That, however, was not good enough for his father. The row that resulted from his decision to go it alone also led to his having to move away from center city to the home of his in-laws. It seemed a worthwhile price to pay, however, if it would enable him to realize his dream of being successful on his own terms. To be able to move to Dubai and into the MAG 218 by 2009 would be the perfect culmination of years of hard work and sacrifice. For that reason, the continued delays in start up on the MAG 218 project were beginning to rattle him.

It was now more than two months since excavation and piling work was due to commence at the MAG 218 site in early August. That was also the month that I started my new job at the remote desert site in Abu Dhabi. As an English instructor my job was to provide lessons to UAE national employees whose language skills were not up to par. This would be an increasingly difficult problem for the company as it sought to increase the percentage of UAE nationals in its workforce and was, thus, required to lower the bar on admissions.

On the upside, the new job meant that I would not have any problem making payments on the new property, at least for the near future. Unfortunately, however, the remote location meant that it would be hard to maintain the ardent schedule I had kept up over the preceding weeks of visiting, photographing and otherwise documenting progress at the Dubai Marina.

My relationship with Mona would also be affected. She had been back from Egypt for about a month when I started the new job and I had gotten into the habit of meeting up with her every few days. It would not be possible to continue meeting with such frequency, but it was probably just as well. When she returned from Egypt it seemed things were different, from both our perspectives. I suppose having spent time with family eased some of the sense of isolation she may have felt in the UAE. At the same time, my preoccupation with my new hobby meant that my reaction to the apparent change in Mona's disposition was muted.

I guess I didn't feel strongly led to rekindle the fire that had been lit just a few months earlier. I suppose, also, that it was more than that. I was in my mid-forties and, although I had been in brief relationships in the past, there was always something that led me to pull back before the inevitable--marriage, that is. Oddly, I always felt that I just didn't need to take that last step--not in my 20's , nor in my 30's and not even now.

There was no need to close the chapter on Mona, however. I intended to just let things be as they were. We still met on most weekends, even if briefly. We talked on the phone every few days. And I must say that one of the main things that attracted me to her was her independent spirit. She had come a long way on her own, which for an Arab woman is not so easy. Though younger than I, she seemed to have the same spirit and determination to winnow out her own course in life. The future, I always reminded myself, is never known with certainty. One would be presumptuous and perhaps foolish to discount those things that logically have some possibility of occurring.

I took Abdul Rahim's letter with the level of seriousness that I was sure he had intended. However different our circumstances may have been, we had both committed ourselves to making substantial investments requiring a great amount of sacrifice. The sacrifice on my part would be simply more frugal living--fewer vacations, fewer purchases, etc. In my desert outpost facilities were excellent and meant that I had to spend little for my daily needs. Meals, laundry, room cleaning, etc. were provided, as well as facilities for exercise and recreation.

On weekends, however, I joined the legions of renters in the UAE who learn to make do with what they can afford. With the charges for rental on accommodations skyrocketing, many on limited budgets share accommodations to the extent of paying for little more than bedspace. I was fortunate not to have to resort to such desperate means, but the single studio flat I found to rent was in the oldest, dirtiest, most crowded and ugliest building I had ever lived in, but alas the sacrifice was worth it.
Dear Abdul Rahim,

I share your concerns. My hope is that by putting a spotlight on these issues--through the website--I may get the developer to better appreciate the urgency of getting on with the task. Besides that, I have spoken with the GM who has offered some explanation for the delays...
I went on about my faith that the investment was still a good one in spite of any eventual delays.

After picking out some fruit--a half dozen mangos, some lime and apples--Abdul Rahim quickly headed back to the station. He missed the train once when the crowds in the street were so excessive that he could barely take more than a few steps a minute. It wasn't so bad on this day, but as usual the central market of Secunderabad was pulsating with life--merchants and hawkers selling every manner of household good, fresh produce of all kinds, colorful textiles and garments, and perhaps, most special of all were the many garlands of flowers, which people used to adorn religious statuary and wear during special ceremonies. The air was filled with the fragrances of carnations, roses, periwinkles, lavender, plumeria and numerous other colorful and perfumed flora.

1364 (this post), total 6490 words
Chapter 6: Arabian Forasol

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