Doha Cat Television
“Cat channels?” asked Little Diamond, mystified, listening to a conversation at the dinner table.
Oh yes. He’s got the Gardener channel, two or three pigeon channels, the songbird channels, the cleaning lady channel – life is very interesting for the Qatteri Cat. Today, I set up the Quilt Room Cat Sleeping Station – he likes to be in the same room I am working in, and it is a help to me if he has his own place so he is not on top of my work. (My friend who organized my quilt room thinks the Qattari Cat is spoiled, LLLOOOLL. OF COURSE he is spoiled! He is an only cat!)
Here is the cat sleeping station:
Here is how the Cat Sleeping Station is utilized:
But then – the one remaining sort-of-non-flying-baby-pigeon has begun spreading his wings, little by little. Yesterday morning he was on top of my car – this is a giant step for a pigeon who walks everywhere. Last night, he was on the garage room – an even bigger step.
No sooner had I set up the Cat Sleeping Station then the little walking pigeon figured out how to make it to my windowsill:
Never a dull moment for the Qatteri Cat:
The Doha Mumtaz Tailor
As a last resort, we head to the Mumtaz tailor to see if he knows where we might find the exact fabric for Little Diamond’s pants. No, says the Mumtaz Tailor, but actually he saw a lot of it just a couple years ago, but it is all gone now.
This tiny little shop, just off Karabaa, is probably not one you would go into if someone hadn’t taken you there.
One of my stitch-group buddies took me on a Doha tour just before she was leaving, took me to all the tiny shops you would never know about if a good friend didn’t take you there. The Mumtaz Tailor is a gold mine. If anyone has just the buttons you need, that zipper in an unusual shade, the lining to go under the cut out brocade – he’s got it, or he knows who does. He also has all the tools-of-the-trade that people who quilt or sew need – good scissors, measuring tapes, embroidery threads, hoops, a whole host of things you don’t even know what they are until you need them. The Mumtaz Tailor has them, tucked inside his fairly small shop, from floor to ceiling, and he knows where they are.
One year, I bought about twenty hajj towels, the very large, thirsty cotton white towels available here in sets of two for men making the hajj to Mecca. I took them to the Mumtaz tailor and he embroidered my family member’s names in English on one end and in Arabic on the other end and I even got to choose the colors. It was the hit of Christmas; a totally unique gift from Doha.
Although he didn’t have the fabric we sought, the minute we walked in I spied a bolt of the only batik fabric I have ever seen in Doha. Six years ago, I bought several meters of this and I have been looking for it ever since, with no success. I bought five more meters. Wooo HOOOOO!
Doha Parking Nightmare
You could think of it as an adventure, as adventure can cause the same heart-slamming rush of adrenalin. Little Diamond and I were late to the fabric souks area, looking for a match to some pants she has loved and needs copied, as they have irrevocably split in a critical area. We circled the Souk al Diraa multiple times, hoping a spot would open up, one of a couple hundred cars circling, hoping for a spot.
Sharp-eyed Little Diamond spotted a sign for public parking. I’ve never noticed it before – it led us to a building in front of which I often park, it is now totally empty of stores. There is a sign as you enter the parking, which is all above ground, that “only Ministry personnel” can park on the first level.
We had started up the winding ramp when after two curves, we were in total dark. I have my sunglasses on, and I am desperately trying to get them off, but even when I get them off, I can’t see, we are in total darkness on an upward twisting ramp and all I can think of is what if someone is coming up in a hurry behind me and hits me???
“The light! Turn on the car lights” shouts Little Diamond, who is allowed to shout at me when she gives me good ideas. Oh yeh! Car lights . . . since I have never driven this car at night, I don’t exactly know where they are, but I make a guess and thanks be to God, the lights come on and we crawl up two more levels until we begin to see some light appear.
We check out every level – every level is full. On level three, we finally find a spot, and hurry down the filthy stairs to check out fabrics so we can get back to the tailor before he closes. As the tailor had said – we cannot find the exact fabric, but we find a fabric which is about a 90% match and that will have to be good enough.
As we head back to parking lot – the surrounding sidewalk is crumbling and one entry is chained off – we find the elevators to take us up. “Not working!” says a man standing nearby, so we head for the nearest stairwell, and almost gag on the way up. I think people maybe sleep in there at night – there are some terrible sights and smells.
There are footprints, even high on the walls:
As we exit the stairwell on our floor, we are met with the sight of a totally burned out car:
Fortunately, on the drive out, there is no area where the lights are burned out, and we drive comfortably the four levels down to the exit.
I normally get the these souks before nine in the morning and I can always find a parking spot, do my shopping and be out in a couple hours, max. I will NEVER, NEVER again, park in this parking lot. I would forego a visit to the souks rather than park in this parking lot again. It is a danger to your health!
Sandstorm Due in 72 Hours
I’m not surprised – my niece, Little Diamond, is coming for a visit. Her arrival seems to invite sandstorms! We are just praying for her safe arrival BEFORE the sandstorm hits. For my friends in Iraq – this must seem endless. For my friends in Kuwait – I hope you get to dodge the bullet this time!
Sandstorm in 72 hours: Met
Web posted at: 7/14/2009 2:57:38
Source ::: The Peninsula
DOHA: A sandstorm is likely to hit Qatar in the next 72 hours, the meteorological office at the Civil Aviation Authority has announced.
During the sandstorm, the expected visibility will be around 2 to 5km and one kilometre or less in certain areas. Sea waves are expected to rise upto between 5 and 8 feet and even upto 10 feet in some areas.
The expected sandstorm will be blowing in from Iraq, and will reach the northern, eastern and central parts of the Arabian Peninsula, up to Iran.
The Saudi Meteorology and Environment Department, meanwhile, said the sandstorm would bring winds of medium to high velocity carrying with them around 2 billion tonnes of dust.
The below-average rainfall and inadequate water in the Euphrates and Tigris rivers in Iraq have contributed to the raging sandstorm.
The storm is so strong that it has stranded Admiral Mike Mullen, the US military’s senior commander, in the restive city of Kirkuk, north of Baghdad, according to reports.
The weather department has advised people to exercise caution during the sandstorm, especially during the night and while driving.
A Small Adventure in Qatar
Here is one reason I love AdventureMan. He loves to go exploring, and Friday mornings after church are our favorite time. I am showing him some new routes, because the street patterns have changed, and where the pigeon mosque used to be, and he notices that the GATE IS OPEN!
So here is what I love. The gate is open. There is no sign saying No Entry. To AdventureMan – and to me – that means that it is not forbidden, which means that it is allowed, right?
There is no guard on duty – it’s Friday. Maybe they are praying.
And the pigeon mosque is still there! I was so afraid they were tearing it down. I don’t know what the real name of this mosque is. There used to be parking behind it where all the Pakistani drivers parked their decorated delivery trucks, and those of us visiting the souks in that area parked there, too. Now, there is almost NO parking available unless you get there at like 6 in the morning. (Actually, if you get there around 0830 on Saturday morning, you can find a parking place.) We call it the pigeon mosque because all the pigeons gather on the roof there. The mosque has been totally gutted and is being renovated.
The rest of what used to be a place filled with cheap junky stores is gone. Demolished and carted away. It’s just a big empty space. No clue yet as to what is going in.
We will have to wait for another day when the gate is open – inviting us to come in. 🙂
Photos of Chaos
. . . this is just the upstairs area. The kitchen is already good, the downstairs living room – haven’t even started. This is what chaos looks like:
” . . . And miles to go before I sleep,
and miles to go before I sleep.”
First Visitor to Doha; Souk al Waqif
We are very happy in Doha. This has to be one of the easiest moves we have ever made, even though I had to sell my car. 😦 We moved back into the same house on the same compound where we lived before. There is a whole learning curve I have already mastered – city layout, major roads, grocery stores, book stores, fabric stores, and major sights – been there! done that!
And yet, Doha has changed enough to still be stimulating and exciting.
Nonetheless, when I was contacted by a friend coming to Doha, with a little time to fill, I felt slightly daunted. We have had lots of visitors here; I tell them to come in November – February, March at the latest, except for Little Diamond, who has lived several places in the Middle East and knows exactly how hot it can be, and who copes with the differences.
I got to the hotel exactly as she and her husband were coming down – perfect timing. I had some suggestions, but what she wanted to do was what I love to do – see Souq Waqif and if we have time, see the new museum. Since they are only yards apart, I had a huge smile on my face.
The smile kept getting bigger – as we drove up to the Souq al Waqif, a truck left in the most perfect, shaded parking spot; THAT is God smiling, it has to be, parking places like that just don’t happen without help.
And, as it turn out, not only does she love the Souq Waqif, she also loves taking photos, so we had ourselves a wonderful time.
Not one single photograph with a person was taken without that person’s permission; not one single person said “no.” They were all “ahlen wa sahlen” (Welcome! Welcome!) It was a sweet morning, and although it was one of the hottest days of the year, it was dry, and the heat was bearable.
One of my favorite shops in the Souq al Waqif; he has all the things fishermen really need – from traps to twine:
The bird souk is active and beautiful:
It’s a real working souk, offering all kinds of household goods:
Look at the huge serving platters in the background – imagine them piled high with rice and mutton, or rice and chicken! Delicious!
This is the first time I have ever seen this store – it has only been open one month. Everything in it is made in Doha:
This was one of the nicest stops on our tour. The eqal maker and his helper are so gentle and full of good information.
We had a great time, a wonderful lunch at the Ispahan:
No time for a nap! On! On!
Blink Your Eye; Doha Changes
We know we are “old hands” in Doha, because now we say things like “this was taken from the spit where the Bandar restaurants used to be” and “you turn left at old Parachute roundabout.”
We drove around, noting the amazing expansion of the city and the changing character of the downtown. As I did in Kuwait, I am trying to photograph a lot of it before it goes away, but the urgency is greater in Doha, where change of enormous magnitude can happen almost overnight.
I watched these guys for a long time; I had a safe parking spot and the view was great. I don’t think there is any such thing as a grown man when it comes to heavy machinery. Guys that operate bulldozers and steamshovels always make it look like WAAAYYYY too much fun, don’t they? I wonder if they can hear their Mamas in their heads saying things like all Mamas say: “Don’t you go up on that building in that heavy tractor, that’s DANGEROUS! !”
Look – no underpinnings in the floors beneath, nothing to stop a collapse, and these guys are making dust swirl and sparks fly with their big-boy toys. They ARE wearing helmets.
This is old Dhow roundabout. (You can see the dhow in the center of the roundabout over there on the left, see it?) Everything is changing in this area, but Dhow roundabout hasn’t changed – yet. The traffic pattern has changed a little; you can no longer turn off Dhow roundabout to enter the souk area. It is all for the best. Traffic runs more smoothly now, and when you do get to the souk parking, there is more of it. 🙂
This is old Al Ashmakh; this is what most of Doha used to look like back when it was “sleepy little Doha” – not so long ago, like seven years ago.
I know you are thinking “why is she taking photos of things like that?” because it still looks like this in parts of Kuwait, too, like Maidan Hawally and Hawali, and some of the back streets in Subaihiya, but these parts of Doha are disappearing, with all the little tiny stores and their colorful signs and merchandising.
I was in Al Ashmak because I want to have some new kneelers made for our church, and the priest thought the idea of having them done in the sadu-like upholstery fabric was a good one. It would add a more local flavor, and, insh’allah, hold up a little better than the current cotton, which is wearing a little thin.
I went to a shop and waited patiently while two Sudanese women bought beds and mattresses, and when the clerk came to wait on me, some very important gentleman rushed in, interrupted us, and took the clerk away to wait on him. I waited about five minutes – about 4 minutes and 30 seconds too long – before I walked out. I should have known better. I will find a place in my own neighborhood.
When I saw this truck, I shuddered. My household goods should be coming any day. This is how I am afraid they will show up, and maybe a box or two fell off on the way 😦
When I moved to Kuwait, three boxes got lost, the first time that has ever happened to me. Here is what is amazing to me – two of the boxes were full of book. Not just books, but books on quilting. I keep thinking “who on earth would want these books???” The problem is, quilting books are expensive, and some of the ones I had were old, not just out of print, but limited edition books, so they are priceless – and irreplaceable. I used them for teaching, and I shared them generously. It broke my heart to lose them. I almost don’t want my goods to show up; I am almost too afraid, wondering what might go missing this time?
Friday Lunch with AdventureMan at Assaba
After all these years, we know each other so well.
“Where are we going to eat today?” he asks as we leave church.
“It’s your turn to choose” I tell him.
“No, no, it’s your turn,” he insists, “I chose Ruby Woo’s last Thursday night.”
“No. You didn’t. I did,” I tell him, and remind him that I also chose another place later in the week, but it was a place that he really likes.
What he wants me to do is to throw out my idea and then he shoots it down. Sometimes I throw out three ideas, and he shoots them all down!
“What are you in the mood for, what kind of food?” I ask him. Usually he doesn’t like a lot of meat, so I am surprised, really surprised, when he says Lebanese. When we lived in Kuwait, he almost never chose Lebanese except for Tanureen, where they had such good fish.
“Yeh, but now there is no good Lebanese restaurant near where I work,” he replies, “and I am missing Lebanese food.”
I know just the place. My two pool buddies took me to lunch there back in January when I visited. I THINK I know how to get there, and, as it turns out, I do! (It’s always a disaster trying to find a place when your husband is really, really hungry.) It’s called Assaba, and it is like entering a different world. They’ve taken a very humdrum building, and re-facaded and decorated the ground level and one flight up to resemble a Lebanese Village. It is a lot of fun.
We ordered mostly mezze (appetizers) and an order of shish taouk to share. (Shish taouk is boneless chicken pieces that have been marinated in lemon juice and a little garlic and yoghurt, for those who don’t know about it. It is delicious, and often served with a mighty garlic – mayonnaise. )
We agreed that the very very best dish of all was the Mohammara, a dish made of finely chopped walnuts, red peppers and a few other things. (Mishary, on Some Contrast, printed a great recipe.)
We had hummous with something that tasted a little like liver, and baba ghanoush, and meatless chickpea moussaka:
And this is how the shish taouk looks when it arrives, with hot bread to keep it warm:
It was a magnificent meal. We ate too much. It was just so pleasant, sitting there, great food, beautiful surroundings, us all relaxed after church and mellow. AdventureMan came back from washing his hands all excited – “You’ve got to go use the Ladies Room! See if they have a beaten copper sink! I want one of those!”
I did, and this is what it looks like:
I think we might have to take another trip to Damascus, and bring it back with us. Do you know what a designer in the US would charge us for a sink like that?? We can go, find a sink, spend time in a city we love and come back for what the cost of the sink would be in the US.
I want the door:
I think I had better have it made here!
Here is the shower he wants, from Robin’s House at Nkwali Camp, in Zambia:
Even Friday lunch with AdventureMan is an adventure. 🙂
Having a Ball to Celebrate the Army’s 234th Birthday
(Photo from PictureBook Directory of Children’s Illustrations)
As a child, I grew up with stories of dressing up in beautiful gowns and going to the ball – didn’t you see Cinderella when you were a child? My mother would dress in wonderful gowns to go out with my father to balls; I still remember her kissing me goodnight, dressed is midnight dark blue velvet with rhinestones scattered on the gown; it reminded me of a starry night in Alaska. She wore White Shoulders perfume.
We always thought they had so much fun when they went out – they would bring us small swords and umbrellas. We would ask “what did you do with these?” imagining sword fights or something equally interesting, but they would say they were just decorations for fancy drinks. We knew they were lying; we knew it must be some adult thing that they couldn’t tell us about.
This weekend AdventureMan and I went to the Army Birthday Ball, and realized it may be the last ball we go to. We were prepared, or mostly. Unlike Cinderella, I didn’t have my glamorous shoes with me. I remember taking them out of the closet, but somehow they got packed in my household goods. I did have a pair of sandals with me that matched my gown closely enough, but they were far from glam.
AdventureMan was dressing in his evening wear and discovered he had no black socks! Horrors! We found a pair of very dark green socks that he usually wears traveling in Africa, and his pants were long enough to cover them, both standing and sitting, as long as he didn’t cross his legs, LLOOLLL!
So, off we went to the ball, not in a glorious carriage but in air conditioned comfort, thank God. The air conditioning matters when you are all dressed up, made up, and want to be cool.
Cool we were. As we sat shivering in the giant decorated warehouse where the ball was held, I laughed at AdventureMan and said “I have NEVER been cold at a ball before!” Even at the winter balls we used to attend in Germany, the heat would be on, and with 300 – 400 people attending, all crowded in, things heated up in a hurry. The summer balls in Germany were often sweltering – there was never any air conditioning, and a big heat wave always seemed to hit around the time of the balls. There is nothing so unglamorous as sweating in a ball gown!
Here, in Doha, where the temperatures at night sometimes don’t even drop below 90°F, the air conditioning was working great.
The food was also surprisingly good. Most of the time at grand occasions the food can be rubbery, or blandly disappointing. The food was pretty good.
Best of all, this was a ball put on by soldiers, for soldiers. It was really fun seeing all the soldiers and civilians in their finery, all glammed up and having a great time. It was even more fun having some of the soldiers out of the war zones, on R&R, in their battle-dress-uniforms – after all, the ball was to celebrate the Army, the Army’s 234th birthday, and those who serve.
The program was excellent, and moving. Great honor was given to those who serve, who sacrifice, those who have been wounded, the families that support them, and to those who give their lives in service to our country. There were many solemn moments. It gave the occasion gravity. It was impossible not to be moved. They did a great job.
When I was younger, before marrying AdventureMan, my sister and I were in the right place at the right time. All the young officers needed respectable dates for the balls, and we attended a lot of balls. I guess we “cleaned up good.” 😉 Many of the balls were held in the Heidelberg Castle, or other castles, it was always a very fun time, lots of dancing.
After getting married, I realized that what I thought was just a great romantic evening out was really all about politicking. The wives were left stranded at their tables while the husbands were out renewing acquaintances, getting introductions to new potential bosses and angling for their next assignment. So much for an evening of dancing and romance! As the music blared, you couldn’t even have a good conversation, just sit at the table or walk around with a friend, wondering when your husband was coming back!
So, for me, this ball was the best. AdventureMan made his rounds during dinner, while I chatted with other wives whose husbands were also out making the rounds, but before the loud music had started. The program didn’t end until late, and after making our rounds of farewells, we made our escape, hoping we would not turn into pumpkins!
Here is a wonderful video, made by a 15 year old girl, to honor our Armed Forces:
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