Takacs 1 Foot prints… Footprints. Adidas, Reebok, Nike, Converse, yes! Unique? Different? Different brands. All made in the same sweat shops. Different? Maybe not so much. Foot prints, trails of roads once taken. Wrapped in laces and leather they do not make an impression on this concrete jungle. Regardless of what shoes I wear today my happiness will project through my entire body. It's finally Thursday April 23rd! (Weekends begin on Thursday’s and end on Saturdays in Dubai) Close enough to my exams for them to be a problem but far enough away for me to bask in adolescent ignorance. I know exactly what I want to do tonight as I hum gleefully to myself in the shower. Indulge in some of that Ol’ English Whiskey; I rinse the tea tree oil shampoo out of my hair. Go to Reem Al Bawadi for Shisha, flavored tobacco smoked out of a large water pipe, I secure the fixture and begin to dry my hair. Be surrounded by women. Gel or pomade? Pomade. Girls do not like hard sticky hair, texture? Yes, that is indeed important. Dressing, even more important because people will judge me by how I dress. I put on a stylish pair of boxers that naturally peek out above my purple skinny jeans and brass studded belt. A green V-neck that is clearly a size too small that beautifully shows off my chest piece. I am a projection of my insecurities. Cell phone, cigarettes, Dokha (Iranian tobacco this is finely ground and smoked out of a three hit pip), wallet. Wallets carry money. Dubai requires money. Money, I do not yet have. “Mom! “I’m not going to respond to you if you yell at me from across the room!” I do my last checks to make sure I have all of my evening attire; her room is going to be my last stop on my way out. I ask, “Possible to have a bit of change then?” Eyes widened her sharp tongue responds “Well how much is a bit of change then?” I put on my best smile Takacs 2 “Enough to have an exciting evening?” Without delay, a note was slipped to me. Plenty of money, the evening would be a success. I get to the door, cover my mark with lace and leather and I am on my way. When I think of Dubai I envision a certain heat, not only because it is 120 degrees every day, but because of the pace in which the city functions. It has always been a blur to me, my years here merging into something I can only describe as an incredible experience. People, parties, and hidden opportunities, that’s what this place boils down to. No amazing culture, virtually no history, only lots of money and endless possibilities in spending it. It’s fun, so much fun that you sometimes forget about work and responsibility. You could fall into a pit. But here is the catch; most people can’t fall in that pit. The people they know or the last name they hold is usually enough to let them sail by on some bullshit internship that pays a sick amount of money. It seems that everyone here is taken care of. They live the lives of the grossly rich and ignorant. I don’t have these fail safes nor do I have some sweet internship lined up for me when I graduate from high school. Kids like me project illusion because that is all we see, illusions. Not very many of us understand what waits outside the aesthetic bubble of Dubai; we pray it’s not reality for few of us know the meaning of the word anymore. Well I’m not going to complain, at least for now. I don’t really need to worry about anything until after my exams. Then I have to be thinking of the world and the difficult decisions I must make, getting my life together. The sun had long set, but the influence of its strength still lingered on every exposed surface. The soles of my shoes stick and detach from the heated ground as I walk down the alleyway opposite my house. The heat is searing at my brow; I glance at my reflection on several car windows to reassure myself of my looks. Heavily perspiring, I emerge to Al Wasl Road (a major road running through the middle of Dubai) overcome by my desire to get a taxi. After a Takacs 3 few failed attempts, I am able to get one to stop. He gives me the evil eye, slowly lowering his window and scratching his poorly groomed facial hair. “Yella, GO! Al Quose?” he exclaimed to me. I knew what this was. Drivers would always want to drive in the direction of the industrial park of Al Quose on the outskirts of the city because anything going the opposite direction is trapped in hours of traffic. If they are stuck in traffic and come back late from a shift, they pay a fine. But if you don’t get enough fares you also pay a fine. This driver must have been in a state quite similar to this, thus explaining his urgency. I quickly move to the door and get in. “Nam, nam, my place near, maybe close to Spinnys traffic light?” The cabbie looked back at me through the window and seemed to agree with my explanation. It wasn’t English what we spoke, more of an English, Arab, Hindi-pig dialect. It can’t really be explained unless you could actually experience how distorted multi-cultural communication becomes in a place like this. I put on my headphones and I look mostly at my feet now. I know people are getting in and out of the cab and we are going to end up somewhere eventually. As for our footprints? They are generally aimless, moving in no particular direction. Cutting in and out of those that belong to others. I am about to be social. The cab slowly came to a stop, We have just arrived at Kim Gammage’s house. Kim was a friend; she had always taken pictures for our band and had assimilated into the group of regulars. She had a friend visiting and I was so excited to meet her I subdued my arrogance and put my iPod into my pocket. From what I could gather was that she was from Birmingham, attractive and named Hayley. As I step out of the cab I realize that morning has long past and the Takacs 4 ambitions of night have taken full effect. I hear them approach; I twirl my cigarette and take a nervous drag. Everything here was a process, fast-paced, and relentless. She enters. The process stopped everything just long enough for me to see her radiant smile shimmer through sweeping fields of gold. In this moment the city did not immerse me, she did. The days that followed were those only thought to be had in movies. She was a tourist. We did touristy things. I did not mind, I got to meet her. We enjoyed each other’s company and we were together, even if it was only for her week long visit. As each day passed, my exams grew closer but my laces loosened even more and my footsteps became more erratic. Drunk maybe, with a potent happiness. She was someone of substance, independence, and strong sense of achievement. All of these things radiated off her and only made me want to be closer to her. I was her half-life and nothing else in the world could have mattered more to me. We had our bread and circus, the show was at its apex. In what was our last night together, we walked inside of each other’s footprints and fought the enticing aroma of sleep. I took a new path and wondered around the new land that had become so familiar with the past week. I could see foot prints all around my kingdom and all throughout the borders of her own. For the first time I was at peace. All of my walls were knocked down and I knew it was me she was seeing. It was the first time I had felt it and I knew it was true. The sound of heart beats make words a lost art, one night to speed up truth, we were in love. The morning was hard. Every sight of her made me realize how soon it would be before she was no longer in my life. The idea frightened me; it had only been a week but she was already such a part of me. We smiled often, but the pit in my stomach might as well have been a jagged steel nail in my side. When I got into the shower the process did not hold much appeal. I simply cleaned myself and put on my clothes from the night before. I grabbed a shoulder bag and Takacs 5 tossed my swimming kit in it. I was going to Hayley’s barbeque. A part of me did not want to go. But I knew I had to or I was certain to regret it. When I arrive I am greeted by friends. The barbeque is excellent as far as these occasions go. The food is well cooked and even better mixed drinks. I sit on the edge of the swimming pool, legs knee deep, taking comfort in the water’s fluid texture. My body urges my mind to relax but I know it will not. She is leaving, two stamps in her passport, a 6 hour plane ride and what was once so close will be far away. I cannot think of anything else but I do my best to appear “calm, cool, and collected.” We take another picture fating it to be a sad memory weeks and maybe even months from now. We embrace, pressing beating heart to beating heart. I close my eyes and watch the electric images resonating from the steady frequencies of our blood flow. This is what it feels like to be alive. The barbeque has been without flame for hours and our glasses refilled more times than any of us can count. The images and frequencies fade from view as the day comes to a close. I move toward the gate and face my exit. As I move through, reality finally sets in. *drip* *drip* They follow like water but they are not pools of comfort. This is what it feels like to be dead. I fumble with my pack, gather my composure, and look up at the skyline. What have you done to me? The date is April 31, my first exam is tomorrow and I have not studied. I stand feet firmly planted on the side of the dune, the date was April 26. The wind gently blows as if to usher out the relentless sun. The Hayley has never seen a desert before or anything outside of Exeter County for that matter. She excitedly moves towards me, her happiness is infectious, she takes my arm. “Take off your shoes!” she exclaims in a voice I could never Takacs 6 question or say no to. The sand is beautiful and innocent, impressionable. Our footprints take advantage, we walk until our beginning is only a memory. This was not concrete, we made our own path, and our tracks are unique. Not Adidas, not Reebok, Different? Yes! We continued until we found ourselves atop a large dune that dwarfed the others in comparison. The ground was disturbed only by our endeavor as the soft lullaby of the setting sun captivated all who heard her song. As we waited for the crescendo she squeezed my hand more tightly than ever before, “We will remember this when we are old and grey.” I lower my head to hers and place my hands firmly on her shoulders, I don’t say anything. I kiss her on the forehead the finale is spectacular. As I look back over our path I write in my notebook… They stretch endlessly for miles into the never ending sun Across the desolate land and through uneasy recall One a fronts the other to mark what is done A semblance of failure or an obstacle to tall The distance between toe and heel may change An unforeseen trial may show the travelers fall The nature of circumstance may alter and rearrange Miles can be walked throughout the forsaken realm without a call Beyond the searing red sands on the horizon lie A magnificent desert rose as one old traveler passes by It's beauty among such pain clears the confines of his mind All prior thoughts of life and laughter no longer bind I know not I was the first to view this beauty as I pass by Takacs 7 Nor do I still feel the semblance to relinquish or forget to try It will be forever simple and uncomplicated to understand that for that moment my heart was resting in the palm of your hand Your impression goes left and mine goes right Pressing harder into the uncertain black of night Further from each other but closer then you know Our destinations ahead beckon us to go Maybe sometime ahead somehow some way Our footprints will cross once more on our travels some day... Digging her chin into my collarbone as she reads over my shoulder, she reassures me that they will. Friday February 5, 2010, I am in university now and much has happened since April 2009. I had thought Hayley made me want to be better for the longest time. It was not until I realized that I wanted this for myself did my wounds heal. As I stand in my shower, the process once again yields excitement. There are new people that lurk the halls of my mind. My footprints continue right, making their own path away from the sunset and towards the new days rise. Takacs 8 
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