DUBAI, United Arab Emirates — The sound of missiles and explosions filled the air in Dubai on Friday night. After years of watching coverage of Middle East conflicts from afar, I was there.
After a difficult year, I had set my sights on the trip of a lifetime. Travel to Dubai, a glitzy miracle on the Persian Gulf.
Dubai is an emirate, one of seven comprising the United Arab Emirates, a federation wedged between Oman and Saudi Arabia, and the Persian Gulf.
Immense wealth generated by the country’s vast oil reserves has turned parts of the UAE into a giant sandbox full of world-class construction projects.
I had reserved a room at Dubai’s opulent Burj al Arab hotel, a dream of mine since it opened. My bank account and travel plans could only spare one night there, but it was the most over-the-top location imaginable.
Saturday, my plans led me to the base of Burj Khalifa, the world’s tallest building. A sprawling complex, including the Dubai Mall, radiates outward from it.
Within the mall, a message from the U.S. Embassy flashed across my phone. It read, “Security Alert – Shelter-In-Place – U.S. Mission UAE.”
I had been following news of the earlier joint U.S./Israeli strike in Iran, but I had been solely focused on enjoying the last day of my vacation, and ready to head home.
The message continued.
“Due to regional hostilities, the U.S. Embassy in Abu Dhabi and the U.S. Consulate in Dubai have instructed staff to shelter in place (i.e., take cover). We recommend all Americans in the UAE do the same until further notice.
“Find a secure location within your residence or another safe building. Have a supply of food, water, medications, and other essential items.”
I cannot describe the irony of receiving that message standing in a high-end shopping mall. Life continued for everyone around me. Shoppers carried bags of luxury goods.
Then came the notification that the airport had closed. Afterward, I received an email from my airline canceling the flight home.
Phone alerts, crying babies
Eventually, I knew I had to find a place to sleep for the night, and booked a one-night stay nearby.
The hotel was clearly busy with check-ins from those with canceled flights like myself.
Upstairs in my hotel room, I prepared for what I expected to be a one-night delay, due to heightened security precautions.
While showering, I could have sworn I heard the distinctive thump of explosions taking place outside. It sounded like distant fireworks.
Spooked, I changed and walked back out to my room with floor-to-ceiling windows, staring through the glass. Nothing to see. Traffic streamed through busy streets. I thought it must be my nerves after thinking of the attacks directly across the sea.
It was now after midnight, and I couldn’t sleep. I could hear periodic thumps, still convinced it was nerves again.
Lying in bed staring out the window of my room on the 37th floor, I saw a flash of orange light streak through the sky. I jumped out of bed, tossing my phone to the floor. An emergency alert rang out from my iPhone, and then immediately, the sound of a window-rattling explosion and a flash.
The missile had been intercepted.
Shocked, and with my iPhone screaming on the floor, I decided I must get to ground level.
I hurriedly threw some shoes on, grabbed my passport, a phone charger and power bank from my bag, and jogged out the door.
The lobby had plenty of glass, but it was at ground level. The last thing I wanted was be stuck nearly 40 stories up.
The sound of children screaming and babies crying echoed around me, pierced by sudden emergency alerts blaring from dozens of cellphones.
That combination of sounds is something I will never forget.
Travelers and evacuees
After a time, the alerts stopped, and a hesitant calm sank into the room. In a flash of movement, a bus pulled up to the front door. A busload of passengers walked in and were ushered to reception. Some spoke English and soon I learned they had been evacuated from the airport.
The Middle Easterners filtered in to join the other international travelers. After a time, hotel staff moved many of us to a restaurant, which had been reopened for the evacuees.
Chefs fired up this region’s comfort food — rice and grilled meats.
I sat at a corner table, far from large windows, and ate the delicious food in silence. Two European tourists tried to sleep on padded benches near me.
Back upstairs, I fell asleep. The next morning, I woke to news that the Burj al Arab hotel, which I had left just hours prior to the attack, had been struck by a drone. According to reporting at the time, there were no injuries, and the building sustained minimal damage.
According to the UAE Ministry of Defense, 137 Iranian ballistic missiles and 209 drones were detected during the first attack. All missiles were intercepted, as well as most drones.
Terror in everyday life
The city was exceptionally quiet on Sunday morning. Once-busy streets saw minimal traffic. UAE citizens were advised to stay home. I moved to what I deemed to be a safer location.
I went into this trip hoping I would find myself again.
Little did I know the biggest takeaway was to feel firsthand how affected everyday people are by decisions made in comfort from thousands of miles away.
The people of this region are kind, hospitable and welcoming. Some live under oppressive and violent governments; some live in relative peace and security.
They are fathers, mothers and children who have grown accustomed to the type of terror that I witnessed this weekend.
My hope is that they soon find the peace that right now seems far away.