Dubai’s 'soul' extends beyond just its historic buildings

During a 2015 trip to Florence, immersed in its food and history, Nada Badran had an epiphany. The former management consultant realized she wanted tourists to experience the rich culture and history of Dubai the way she had in Italy.

The booming metropolis of Dubai, shaped over the last 50 years by the discovery of oil in the Arabian Gulf during the 1960s, contrasts starkly with the medieval charm of Florence. Yet Badran grew frustrated with the common claim that 'Dubai has no soul' or 'it could be anywhere in the world,' believing that such views stemmed from shortcomings in the city's tourism industry, not the city itself.

'I began to look at the local tourism industry, and honestly, I didn’t find anything remarkable. It mainly catered to mass tourists — people who hop on buses, snap a few pictures, and leave,' says Badran.

While Dubai’s towering skyscrapers, sprawling malls, and luxurious resorts draw the majority of visitors, Badran wanted to reveal a different side of the city — one steeped in culture, history, and traditions. She sought to share the Dubai she grew up in: a place with its own unique flavors, people, and stories.

In 2016, Badran founded her own tour company, Wander with Nada, with the goal of showcasing a different side of Dubai to visitors.

Her custom private tours are tailored to the individual preferences of each guest, though her personal favorite is a journey through Dubai’s 'old town' — a collection of historic neighborhoods around Dubai Creek where the city first took shape and where Badran spent her childhood.

'It has a truly distinctive character,' she says of the area.

A historic neighborhood

History is often synonymous with 'soul.' Cities like Rome, Athens, or Edinburgh, which proudly display their pasts, exude a certain gravitas — the architectural equivalent of wrinkles and gray hair.

Although the United Arab Emirates (UAE) was only founded in 1971, Dubai, one of its seven emirates and the most populous city, boasts a much older history. Positioned at the tip of the Arabian Peninsula, Dubai has served as a trading hub for centuries, especially between Oman and present-day Iraq.

The early economy of the region revolved around pearl diving, and the settlement was primarily a fishing village before the Al Maktoum family, descendants of the Bani Yas Bedouin tribe, established themselves there in 1833.

Our tour begins in Al Shindagha, the historic neighborhood where Dubai’s first homes were built nearly 200 years ago — a place that holds the beginnings of the city, just before Dubai was struck by historic flooding.

While little remains of the pearl diving industry that once put Dubai on the map, Badran believes it's essential to understand this part of the city's past — including acknowledging some of its more controversial aspects, such as the grueling and harsh working conditions faced by the divers.

Constructed from coral and gypsum, the burrow-like houses feature small windows designed to keep out the heat, with a maze of rooms surrounding a central courtyard. These homes were designed to accommodate multiple generations of a family under one roof. The Al Maktoum family home remains here, where Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum, the current ruler, was born in 1949.

Today, no one resides in these homes. Instead, they serve as museums, each celebrating a different facet of Emirati culture, such as 'Al Talli,' a traditional embroidery technique recognized as an Intangible Cultural Heritage by UNESCO in 2022. Others highlight the art of Arabic perfume-making and its significance in Emirati hospitality, or showcase the importance of fishing and the many uses of palm trees, with artisans demonstrating how palm brush is transformed into rope right before your eyes.

As she moves from house to house, Badran weaves compelling historical narratives, offering vivid insights into what life was like for the city's early inhabitants, while meticulously linking each detail to the history of Dubai Creek.

'If you ask me what I do for a living, I don't call myself a tour guide — I’m a storyteller,' says Badran.

A transient population

A commonly mentioned fact about Dubai and the UAE is its status as a melting pot of 200 nationalities. However, this diversity goes beyond modern times; even the original pearl fishing communities were a blend of Arabs, Persians, Sudanese, and Balochis, an ethnic group from South and West Asia.

'Dubai has a very fluid population — people come and go all the time,' Badran explains. The city's cultural influences are deeply embedded in its identity, and she highlights this at the souks, just across the creek from Al Shindagha, pointing to Indian agarwood used to make oud for perfumes, Persian saffron, and the sweet Medjool dates from Saudi Arabia.

In the historic Al Fahidi district, we meander through narrow alleys, past the former homes of Iranian traders who settled there in the 1890s. Only about 10% of the original buildings remain, and like Al Shindagha, the area is now mainly a tourist destination with shops, cafes, and boutique hotels. While visually stunning, it feels strangely vacant — almost lifeless, as some might describe it. 'It’s a place often visited, but mostly by tourists,' says Badran, adding, 'Try convincing locals to come here — they’d need to be paid.'

And this presents a challenge. Heritage isn’t just about old buildings, but also the communities that create them. As architecture professor Djamel Boussaa argued in his 2014 paper on Dubai’s urban heritage, it’s the people who 'bring life to the built environment,' and thus, both social communities and heritage sites must be preserved together.

'Urban conservation doesn’t always mean preserving a structure, but rather reviving its essence and energy,' writes Boussaa. 'It involves adapting the goals of restoration to meet the needs of modern life, while honoring the values of the local community.'

Today, Dubai’s population is predominantly made up of migrants, who account for 92% of the residents. This largely transient group comes to work without the option to settle permanently, as there are no long-term residency programs. This temporary population, both historically and currently, has left little space for the establishment of lasting community culture.

A city in flux

Although deeply connected to the city she has called home for almost thirty years, Badran has also experienced this transience. She witnessed a constant turnover of school friends, most of whom she hasn't seen since childhood, and even her own family, who moved to Dubai from Jordan in the 1980s, will eventually leave the city.

As a seasoned traveler, Badran understands that the heart of a place lies in its people. That's why she has made the locals an essential part of her tours, highlighting their role in the city’s story.

At the museum, Badran encourages meaningful interactions with artisans who have inherited their craft, whether it’s perfume-making or fabric stitching. While exploring the Deira souks, she hands the storytelling reins to Rashid Haghaght, an Iranian spice merchant who took over his father’s business. (He shares his expertise on distinguishing genuine saffron from the counterfeit — a skill essential when dealing with the world’s priciest spice.)

'The most crucial part of the tour,' Badran says, 'is the conversations and connections with the community. I want visitors to engage with locals, hear their stories, and learn something they didn’t know before.'

Though Old Dubai remains one of Badran's top tours, she also designs customized itineraries for other districts and nearby emirates like Abu Dhabi and Sharjah. For those seeking something more unconventional, she suggests visiting Al Rigga in Deira, a vibrant area with a mix of quirky shops and Naif Souk, a clothing market, as well as Al Karama, a neighborhood brimming with South Asian eateries and fabric stores.

With her deep knowledge of the city, Badran crafts itineraries based on the places she’s loved over her years in Dubai. 'Some corners remain unchanged by time, and those are the places I hold dear,' she says.

But, of course, things do evolve over time.

Badran guides me through the winding alleys of the Dubai Old Souk, where stores are run by families of Indian descent. This isn't a place for tourist trinkets; instead, vibrant garlands, Hindu figurines, and prayer beads decorate the entrances of shops.

However, many of the shops are shuttered or boarded up. One of the city's two Hindu temples, which was situated just steps away from these alleyways, closed in January and relocated 35 kilometers (22 miles) south to a new location near Jebel Ali. As Badran explains, many businesses are moving along with it, fragmenting a long-established community that has thrived here since the temples' opening in 1958.

When I ask Badran about how she feels about the ever-changing nature of the city, she describes it as 'humbling.'

'I always tell people that if you return after a year, you'll find a completely different place,' she adds.

It's difficult not to see the relocation of the temple as a cultural loss. Yet, wandering through Dubai’s historic quarters — exploring the centuries-old homes of nomadic settlers and the souks run by migrant merchants — tasting spices from Iran, feeling fabrics from India, sipping tea from China, and inhaling fragrances from Oman, you start to see the continuous transformation as a thread connecting diverse peoples, products, and places.

'Dubai is about expanding your perspective,' Badran explains, 'and embracing the diversity that makes this city truly one-of-a-kind.'