I was having a conversation with a friend recently about how much easier it is to meet new people and form friendships in our home countries, namely in Lebanon and Egypt. They argued that people in Dubai often come across as opportunistic, closed off, and generally surface-level.
While I understood where he was coming from—and admittedly used to feeling the same way—I found myself pushing back. That said, with time, I came to realize that there might be some truth to what he was saying. It’s true, I am socially different depending on where I am. When I’m in Cairo, I find myself surrounded by more genuine and effortless connections. There’s a warmth and openness in the way people interact that’s hard to come by elsewhere. And every time I visit, I somehow end up building new friendships without even trying.
On the other hand, when I’m in Dubai, I tend to be far more reserved with my energy. The irony is—I genuinely mean it every time I say, “Let’s hang out” or “Let’s grab coffee.” I’m a Leo rising with a Libra moon, for god’s sake—I actually want to connect with people. But let’s break down what it really takes to meet someone in Dubai:
At least 40 minutes of driving.
One of us (or both) waits 10–20 minutes because of traffic or time issues.
You end up spending 50–100 AED on coffee/lunch/etc.
The first 20 minutes are either filled with awkward small talk…
…or fast-forwarded into talking about collaborations.
And then the “date” usually ends with a promise to meet again—which almost never happens.
Meanwhile, here’s how meeting my now very good friend Sara Ibrahim went down in Cairo:
Pick a time and date. That’s it.
Meet at a restaurant I’d never been to—in a church in Zamalek?? (Granita, I love you.)
Instantly connect. No weird small talk, no need to “warm up.”
Head to a friend’s felucca party.
Jump off the felucca and move to a speakeasy with someone we just met.
Spend 20–30 minutes debating whether or not to go to Ziad Zaza’s concert.
Separate for the night.
Make plans for the next day.
Actually meet. And then again, and again, and again, for endless spontaneous adventures.
For a while, I felt frustrated by how different I was in both cities. It gave me a weird sense of cognitive dissonance—like why is it so hard to socialize in Dubai compared to Cairo?
People would tell me, “It’s just easier when you’re around your own people,” or “Maybe it’s because you didn’t grow up here.” Sure, maybe there’s some truth to that. But I also think it’s bigger than just my own personal experience.
There’s something about the “Disneyland” effect of Dubai—the constant performance of luxury, excellence, and having it all together. You’re expected to present your best self at all times because that’s the standard the city holds. Everything is curated, polished, high-value. That kind of pressure affects how we interact. In contrast, in Cairo (and probably in Beirut too), you’re allowed to be a bit more laid-back. There’s no real point in keeping up appearances.
@yasmiiiineee as an architect living in dubai where hustle culture is stronger than ever, i don’t think i’ll ever find a full time job that doesn’t completely take over my life🥲 . . . #hustleculture #everybodywantsthis #architect #corporatelife #corporateroutine #hustlecultureistoxic ♬ original sound – vicmram
You’re also exposed to more of the “bad” in Cairo— the less filtered, the less controlled, and definitely less curated. In a way, it lets our social masks drop down a bit. And to be fair, when your environment isn’t busy upholding a perfect image, you stop doing it too, which brings me back to my first point: Dubai is a city of opportunity and ambition.
It’s the American Dream of the MENA region. In order to survive the high cost of living here, you have to be working hard. Hustling is the bare minimum. With your time split between the gym or pilates classes, a job (corporate or freelance), side projects, seeing close friends, showing face at events, and networking—it becomes clear why people stick to their “small circles.”
And I get it. But I also miss the kind of friendships where you don’t have to “book” each other weeks in advance or talk about work 80% of the time. I’m talking about raw, “we just click” kind of connections where the conversations flow and nobody’s trying to prove anything.
I used to villainize everyone around me for how hard it was to make friends in Dubai. But what I eventually realized is that I’m equally complicit. The social challenges here aren’t just a result of the environment or the people; and I also happen to be contributing to it. I’ve had a few exceptions, of course—those rare instances when the connection is real and does evolve into a lasting friendship, making those connections—despite all these barriers—feel even more meaningful.
