Arriving in a New Country: Dubai 1970

Silvery oil tanks gleaming in the morning sun appeared below my window, and long stretches of white sand. I knew we were nearing our destination. It was December 24, 1970, we were about to land in Dubai, Trucial States. I will never forget the sights and sounds of that extraordinary day.

Our friends and colleagues back in Lancashire, England, asked us why we were leaving a settled future in England for the uncertainty of a “new country in the middle of nowhere.” Not many people knew about Dubai back then.

The lady sitting next to me on our Gulf Air flight from London informed me that summers in Dubai were extremely hot. Often construction workers would fall off buildings from heat exhaustion. I couldn’t imagine heat of that intensity until our plane stopped in Kuwait. The doors opened. I felt I was standing in front of a hot oven. But nothing anyone said was going to curb my excitement.

The Clock Tower Roundabout

I loved the hustle and bustle of the airport. There was a maze of people around us. People calling out to each other, baggage being brought in, children staying close to their parents, a scene full of life, familiar yet new at the same time. I saw a dark-haired man, wearing a black jacket walking in quick strides coming towards us. He went straight to my husband, “Daktur? I am from the Department of Health. I am here to take care of all the formalities for you. But first, we must take your wife and children to the car waiting outside." This was Mr. Khan, our hospital contact, there to welcome us. He seemed in a rush, he quickly escorted us to a waiting Mercedes.

The sun was very bright and the trees looked a different green, I noticed. Dubai airport in the 1970s was small but very busy and Mr. Khan seemed to know everyone. The immigration formalities were over very quickly, my husband and Mr. Khan joined us in the car and we were on our way to a new home in a new country. I was surprisingly at ease.

Our apartment was spacious and fully furnished. The fridge was well stocked per my husband’s prior request. Within minutes of arriving home, I was able to serve a meal to my three-year-old daughter and my one-year-old son.

Mr. Khan, who we learned later was always in a rush, informed my husband we would be given a car for our personal use till we made other arrangements. But first, he would take us shopping. It was Christmas Eve and the stores would close early. I was surprised to find the stores were well stocked and seemed to have everything we needed. I was to find out later how well the expatriate communities were catered to. The people at the store were very friendly. I remember the store manager gave my children chocolates and cookies for free, something we were not used to in England!

Arriving in Dubai I felt I had come closer to my parents who lived in Hyderabad, India. There were no direct flights to Hyderabad in those days. Flights from Dubai to Mumbai (it was called Bombay then) took about two and a half hours and from there to Hyderabad an hour and fifteen minutes. In less than four hours I could be in my parents’ home, a haven of calm, love, and pampering.

I was born in Hyderabad, India, into a family that I have always thought of as happy, content, and peaceful. My father was a well-known doctor and my mother a gracious and loving homemaker. My parents were happy with what life had brought their way. I grew up sharing the same feelings. I was the youngest among my siblings, my brother is the oldest and then my sister.

I wanted to take my children to meet my parents as soon as possible. This would be their first visit and I knew my parents were looking forward to it as much as I was. Moving to Dubai was one of the best decisions my husband and I made and we never had any regrets.