Even at 7am in the morning when my plane lands the heat is fierce in late August in Dubai, providing confirmation – in case I need it – that I will not be seeking out the midday sun.

It is my first visit to Dubai. I have been reading my guidebook on the way and am ready to find out which of Dubai’s myths are grounded in truth. One bare fact is that 20% or fewer of Dubai’s residents are originally from Dubai, whose phenomenal growth in recent years has been fuelled by immigrant workers, from the armies of builders working in the fierce heat for fewer than 175 US dollars per month to a diverse population of foreign national executives who are here to help Dubai execute an ambitious commercial strategy.

I decide to test the reality of this and, wherever I can do so whilst seeming polite, I ask the people I meet where they come from. My taxi driver from the airport is from Pakistan, soon to reach the end of his three year visa. The young man who serves me lunch with impeccable manners and a winning smile is from Nepal. In the textile souk which I visit on my first day, Indians abound.

Evidence of the executive diversity in Dubai greets me in the form of a large weekend lunch party on the table next to mine. An American shares his store of favourite local phrases. “You know when you ask a Brit how they are and they answer ‘I’m fine'” (there is laughter, perhaps at the dour tone he adopts to say “I’m fine”) “the locals say ‘I’m on top of the palm trees'” (The voice is upbeat. More laughter). “I really love that phrase”. An Indian talks about the latest outsourcing venture in India and I have to listen to his unfolding narrative to believe my ears: did he really say “rent a womb“?

Welcome to Dubai.