I arrived in the UAE on 15th April 2014 in 38 degree Celsius unaware of the fact that I would get the biggest culture shock of my little life. I had a mild panic attack at the Abu Dhabi airport when I lost my fellow dancers during the Immigration check points. I followed a family from England who knew exactly where they were going. Apparently first class passengers had a faster check point than the rest of the travelling peasants. By being clever I ended up waiting at the baggage conveyor belt for almost an hour. My first time travelling, my first time going through immigration and my first time getting lost in a place where no one speaks English. Lets just say, by the time my friends arrived, I was mortified to find out that I illegally missed fingerprints scan and an eye test.
Later that afternoon we arrived in the most beautiful hotel in the center of Dubai, The Yassat Gloria. Two girls shared, not just a room but an apartment. A fully equipped kitchen, white marble bathroom, LG washing machine/tumble dryer which ruined everyone’s whitie tighties. We lived in luxury for 14 days. Ate in great restaurants, saw the most beautiful sceneries, and paid desperately R210 for a single Budweiser. Life was great.
When it was game day, you could feel the electricity in the air. A ghd and hairspray didn't help my hair stay down. I was ready. I was ready until we danced our first routine and I melted from the inside. Make-up running down my face which looked like a mudslide. Hair needed to be readjusted, looking nothing like I first stepped out on the field. But the crowd gave us the adrenalin to keep going. Four hours felt like fifteen minutes. We felt like celebrities. Camera flashes going wild as we walk back to the bus. As we drove back to the hotel, we couldn't wait to jump in the showers. Celebrations were in order.
