Bustle returns, but with a heavier price tag

One evening this month, I drove from my residence in Dubai to International City, a main cluster for Chinese shops, to purchase groceries. The 35-kilometer journey, which normally takes 40 minutes, dragged on for an hour and a half — longer even than before the conflict broke out. On some stretches, traffic crept forward at a snail's pace, streaks of red taillights stretching as far as the eye could see. One thought struck me immediately: The bustling, vibrant Dubai is back.

I am far from alone in noticing the shift. Traffic jams have become a staple of everyday conversation. From downtown office towers and upscale residential compounds to densely populated expatriate hubs like International City, roads are packed almost everywhere. Many people here joke that after weeks of quiet unease amid regional tensions, the hum and gridlock on the streets feel oddly reassuring.

Yet beneath this renewed buzz, the geopolitical conflict in the Gulf region has quietly seeped into ordinary people's daily lives.

On the evening of Sept 30, authorities in the United Arab Emirates announced fuel prices for October, marking a 16 percent year-on-year hike. Prices now sit roughly on par with those in China, and have nearly doubled since I arrived for my posting. As soon as the announcement went public, long queues formed at gas stations. A local contact shared on social media that lines at some outlets stretched for nearly 1 kilometer. Motorists arrived well ahead of price adjustments as filling a tank before the rise could save them almost 100 yuan (nearly $15).

For those unfamiliar with the Gulf, it may seem counterintuitive that gas is so expensive in an oil-rich nation. While the UAE is a major oil producer, its fuel prices are closely tied to global crude benchmarks.

Most consumer goods sold locally are imported and higher oil costs ripple through supply chains, pushing shelf prices steadily upward. It is the tail end of summer, when domestic vegetable output falls short of demand, and they have seen some of the steepest increases.

I once spoke with the owner of a local supermarket chain, who explained that the root cause of rising prices lies in disrupted shipping through the Strait of Hormuz, the world's critical energy choke point. With transit through the waterway constrained, shipping lines have sharply raised freight rates and war-risk insurance premiums, pushing overall ocean freight and cargo insurance costs to almost double.

He admitted that although his supermarket has strived to keep prices stable for staple essentials such as rice, flour and cooking oil, most of the added cost burden has had to be spread across the retail prices of other goods.

The financial squeeze is tangible for everyone trying to make a living here and many have had to tighten their belts and rethink spending habits.

One day at a parking lot, I met a Lebanese man pulling into a spot behind a brand-new Chinese hybrid electric vehicle. He told me he used to drive a large V8 SUV. While curiosity about new technology partly motivated the switch, the bigger driver was cutting fuel bills — the hybrid delivers roughly 30 percent better fuel economy over the same distance. He said he once filled up without a second glance at the price, but now he does mental arithmetic every time the pump ticks over.

Reviving traffic and rising living costs are one side of the story. Changes to international flying routes lay bare just how fragile regional stability remains. Air China recently confirmed its UAE flights will stay suspended until Dec 31. This is a stark sign of persistent geopolitical risks in the Middle East, with cross-border travel and people-to-people exchanges under strain.

Tensions across the Gulf show no signs of easing as the standoff between Iran and the United States continues. Moreover, Saudi Arabia is locked in hostilities with Yemen's Houthi militia and the Red Sea has emerged as a new flashpoint. The fighting is no longer confined to battlefields in Yemen. Missile strikes and shipping disruptions are sending shock waves through energy markets, and air networks.

The UAE has long been known as the Middle East's "oasis of security". Roads are clogged again, but look at household bills, and the hidden costs of conflict are plain: Pricier fuel, more expensive fresh produce, doubled marine insurance and limited international flights. Dubai largely regained its liveliness, yet it cannot fully insulate itself from tremors across the strait.

I asked the Lebanese man whether he had considered relocating elsewhere for work. He told me he had spent more than a decade building his life in Dubai. Even with conflict raging nearby, the UAE remains one of the more stable places in the Middle East, and bounces back quickly once tensions subside. "For us, this is like home, like paradise."

Living on the Gulf front line, I can feel this sharp contradiction acutely: The rhythms of daily life have returned, but true peace has not. Crowded streets are real, and so are the careful budget cuts ordinary people make to get by. Thousands of migrant workers here bear the burden of higher prices, juggling work and living costs while hoping regional tensions cool.

That is the meaning of this oasis. War rages all around, costs keep climbing, yet safety is still within reach. That is why many choose to stay, even at a premium.

Everyone hopes hostilities will end soon, that shipping through Hormuz returns to normal, and international flights resume. We look forward to a Middle East at peace, where residents no longer worry constantly about energy bills and inflation. Only when the guns fall silent can prosperity return to this region without such a heavy price.

The author is China Daily's chief correspondent in Dubai, UAE.