Within a Droplet

I’m reflecting on the writing workshop we attended at Bayt Al Mamzar, an independent art space, under the guidance of writer Rahel Aima. During one exercise, we were asked to imagine a droplet of water in any form, being transported from Sydney, Australia to Sharjah, UAE. My response at the time was narrative-driven and fictional, but I later realised how deeply it was informed by my experiences and community at home.

When I shared my piece with the group, I described the journey of someone working in the industrial area of Villawood, Western Sydney, the suburb one over to where I grew up and where I spent most of my weekends learning to drive. I painted a picture of a worker’s early start, their chilly morning car ride or public commutes on trains filled with peers in a sea of yellow and orange fluorescent workwear, and the long hours of repetitive labour, day-in and day-out to support their families. I recall how my own neighbours would sneak a family size bag of Mamee brand chips from the factory over the fence to the eager little girl next door—a fond childhood memory of mine.

I imagined how that single bottle of water, packed, boxed and freighted, would travel miles through customs and borders, only to be received by another worker, in their own distinctive workwear, in another industrial area, similarly working long hours to provide for their own loved ones. Reflecting on the journey of a bottle of water made me realise the many parallels between our cities, despite it being easier to critique a place that wasn’t my own.

The concept of transport and the movement of bodies feels particularly relevant, both in my experiences in Sharjah and Dubai. One artwork that resonated with me, was documented in a book that I happened to be drawn to at the Jameel Art Centre library. IN TRANSIT: Botany of a Journey by Asunción Molinos Gordo was the second Artist’s Garden commission at the Jameel Arts Centre. Alongside the seven gardens designed by Anouk Vogel, there was a plot reserved for artists to cultivate and experiment annually.

IN TRANSIT: Botany of a Journey consisted of a garden grown from seeds that had travelled through the intestines of people living in or visiting Dubai. The artist explains that most of the seeds we consume in our daily meals pass unnoticed through our digestive systems, surviving the process and remaining germinable. Gordo details that;

The seeds were germinated from ‘clean sludge’ and grew into adult plants, to rethink interconnectedness, emphasising the mobility and globality that evolve alongside the garden itself.

Gordo’s concept of humans as pollinators that derived from this project deeply resonated with me, reshaping our role as visitors beyond mere visa categories or professions. The former perception was evident in our preparations for travelling to the UAE, as we deliberated on how our presence should contribute to these spaces—how we should appear, behave, and dress. Interestingly, we didn’t consider the aspects of our bodies beyond our control that contribute to or alter a place, nor did we reflect on the artefacts linked to our body’s origins, such as passports, which determined access in ways we soon became acutely aware of.

The notion of humans as pollinators resurfaced during our discussions on migration, a recurring and multifaceted theme for our group, given our varied connections to the region. There was an initial sense of caution before our journey. For me, it was the first time in three generations anyone in my family had returned to the Middle East. Upon arrival I was struck by the many parallels between the places we left from and those of diasporic and migrant communities in Sharjah and Dubai. These counterparts became evident in our everyday travels, from the multilingual shop front and awning displays, the plethora of multicultural cuisines, to the multitude of languages overheard from the passersby on the street, reminiscent of our own suburban surroundings.

A significant moment occurred when we stumbled upon a sign affixed to the front of a local falafel shop during our first morning in the city. It boldly proclaimed, “If you can’t buy food, it’s for FREE. This is a Gift from ALLAH (God)¹.” This encounter sparked a profound shift in perspective, dissolving the barriers of an ‘us vs. them’ mentality. It brought to our attention our inclination to criticise an environment while neglecting critical aspects within our own country -  one that is fuelled by colonial structures and curated migration policies. This collective realisation became a guiding principle as we approached the week ahead—viewing artworks, participating in group discussions, and engaging in conversations with both local residents and other visitors of the Biennial.