One Night In Dubai
Two sharks circling below, a mall watching through the glass, and me trying not to panic on the way down. My first dive was in the Dubai Aquarium.
On a sweltering July night in Ras Al Khaimah, I am packing my fanny pack with cash, passport, and my 2 smartphones. The cab is waiting outside the pyramid shaped building I had been calling home for the last 3 months. I am excited. Who would not be when you have a 5-star hotel booked for 2 nights in Dubai waiting for you, and your ride is a 2023 Mercedes-Benz S-Class?
The ride was smooth, and uneventful in the best way. Zero traffic, as we are driving through the desert. Occasionally, my eyes catch a weird shadow in the distance. A tall, thin, hunchbacked figure, walking aimlessly. I put my head against the window to make out what it is.
A camel. Anticlimactic? Yes. Yet, that is going to be the last anticlimactic moment of the following 48 hours.
I arrive at Radisson. They know me there. Check in smoothly. Take a warm shower, and crawl into the king-size bed. I feel a sense of something grandiose coming, but cannot put my finger on it.
I had the best night of my life, and the best morning. My body is rejuvenated, my mind sharp and ready to conquer the day. I book a Tesla to the Dubai Mall. The morning city traffic is a breeze. The mall had just opened, and I am among the only dozen people there.
I check out the hip-hop clothing store and get me a bandana. That piece would be my favorite accessory for the rest of my time in the UAE.
Walking down the mall, I pass the aquarium. Is that a person breaking up a leopard shark fight? I stop to watch, unable to tell what is more bizarre: the sharks pouncing on each other with a person playing a peacekeeper, or the fact there is an actual HUMAN in the fishtank?
Thoughts are racing in my head. Is that an employee doing his job? Or a customer having the time of their life? If it is the latter, can I be that person?
It takes me a good hour to find out the entrance to the aquarium. The curiosity must have been radiating from me, as the Filipino dude at the counter immediately asks if I want to jump in.
Hell yeah I do!
A short safety briefing, 400 dirhams, and a wetsuit smelling of fish later, I am treading in the water. The aquarium is 25 degrees. The wetsuit is glued to my body, the tank on my back is heavy, and I am starting to spiral.
"Put your head down, and look" — says the instructor, with a mischievous smile.
I do as I am told. I regret it immediately. The bottom looks so far away. There is 2 huge sharks circling around. Not the docile leopards that were fighting earlier. The proper, serrated teeth, 6-foot long monsters.
My heart is racing. I do not want to submerge. Luckily, we are not going to the bottom. Yet.
My instructor picks up on my fear and shares his own first experience. He was dizzy and scared, but he did it. He tells me once I am down there, the fear will dissolve.
I do not believe him, but I am here already. Next step: kneel down on the little shelf 3 meters underwater, and breathe for 5 minutes.
Loss of control is the worst feeling for me. When you are surrounded by water, your movements are limited, time feels slow, and you cannot really stand up with fins longer than your legs. Even if you did — you are still deep enough for water to be over your head.
I lay down on the platform and breathe. I think I am overdoing it, but I have no idea how much air I have, and how much breathing is too much.
Five minutes later, we are doing the drills. Clear the mask, clear the reg, take off the mask, remove the reg, put it all back. I did not care about the mask, but removing the reg felt like a terrible idea. I expected to choke immediately, but I did not. That soothed my nerves.
The time has come. We are going down.
Have you ever been in a situation so stressful, that, had you thought of it in advance, you would have never done it? And yet when it comes, you are overwhelmed with peace?
Well, that is what happened. A minute ago I was panicking, considering a million ways I could perish in that fishtank. Now, I am at the bottom. The rowdy leopards see me and come to check me out.
I can see the mall through the acrylic wall. People look distorted, but I can see them looking at me. That gave me a sense of comfort, and also a feeling that I have to do my best. Nobody is laughing at me today. I am a diver — a newbie — but I am crushing this today.
That dive was supposed to be a 30-minute experience. It felt like 3 minutes. Back at the surface I do not want to doff the wetsuit. I ask the guy if we can splash again, but he says we are done. A sting of disappointment, but I know I am coming back the following day.
Before I leave, he gives me a SD card. A treasure, if you will. I reviewed every single frame, and I could not believe how good I looked. How confident I appeared in that foreign environment.
Years later, I look at the footage and my posture is awkward, and I look a little aloof. My stomach is scraping on the sandy bottom, and I am making tiny sandstorms with my fins. Yet, I look like a diver. A diver that is not afraid of the water. A man that has fallen in love with the element.
That pride has carried me through hundreds of dives.