The Important Messenger
In most ways, my husband, Adventure Man, is a very kind man. He is a big-picture kind of guy. Most of us attend to the details, but he is good at seeing how to get from A to Z, even when everyone else is saying it isn’t possible. I love that about him – most of the time he can see possibilities.
He is VERY unkind about my Arabic.
For example, I would be telling him how we learned such and such in Arabic, and he will interrupt me and correct my pronunciation.
So I would go back to my teacher and say “Adventure Man says we are supposed to say it like this!” and she would laugh and say “oh those Lebanese men say it that way but we Qatteris say it like this.”
So when he would correct me, not being as submissive as I ought to be, I would say “Oh you Lebanese men say it like that” (but he is not Lebanese) “but we Qatteri’s say it like this.” (I am not Qatteri) and I could make him fall out of his chair laughing.
But he really hurt my feelings. I was telling him about my problems on the road and how this “important man” who must have been in a big hurry was driving so rudely and he started laughing at me which totally annoyed me.
“What is so funny?” I demanded.
“I think you mean ‘rajul muuhim'” he gasped out, between spasms of laughter.
“That’s exactly what I meant and that is what I said!”
“No, you keep talking about some rude ‘important messenger'” he croaked, and rolled over on the floor because he is laughing so hard he can’t stand up.
Razool sounds a lot like rajool to me . . .
Adventure Man is SO rude. He thinks he is so rajul muhim!
You All Look the Same to Us
“Which one is Noriko?” my instructor asked me.
“She’s Japanese, ” I responded, “She sits between Katrina and Joyce.”
She looked up at me and grinned.
“We can’t tell you apart, you know,” she laughed. “You all look the same to us. It takes us weeks, even months, to be able to tell you apart.”
Maybe I should have been offended, but I wasn’t. My class was made up of Europeans, Americans, Asians – people from all over the world who wanted to learn Arabic. It was funny to me that she couldn’t tell us apart, but I often have the same problem – I’m bad with faces. When you’re the teacher, looking out at a sea of faces – it takes a while.
But it has become a family tag-line, a joke – “You all look the same to us”.
Doha Souk Transport
As a young military wife, it was hugely shocking to me when people felt sorry for me that I had to move all the time. Yes, it is painful being far away from family. And yes, it is painful leaving good friends. But in expat world, we all leave sooner or later, this contract ends, this posting leads to another – and some of us are just wired to need the stimulation.
My husband walks into each new posting with credentials – people know what he has done and accomplished, he has “gravitas.” I get to seek out the drycleaner who won’t ruin my clothes, the man who sells the best tomatoes, and to try to get the heating fixed when no one wants to talk to a woman, and to try to find the roads that will get us where we need to go. In short, I am staff.
And, in spite of all my griping, I got the life I was meant to have. I love the variety, I love the shock of finding others think differently, perceive differently, and my own assumptions are challenged. And I love taking photos.
Here is one of my favorites – these wizened old men are always available to carry your excess and heavy packages, and this man was hired to carry the two adorable boys and “nanny” them as mom went from shop to shop. I asked permission before shooting the photo, from a man I assumed to be the father, but the mom came swooping out, asking what I was doing. Fortunately for me, the man calmed her down and all was well.
Visit to Skyscraper City
As I was preparing to move to Kuwait, and searching the blogs and internet for any information I would find on living conditions, I came across this quirky website called Skyscraper City which has forums on buildings and developments going up all over the world.
My favorite area, of course, is the forum devoted to the Middle East and Africa within which I love to visit Kuwait and Qatar.
Here you find all the latest news, information and GOSSIP about what’s going up, who has applied for permits, and why projects have stalled. It is one of those gems of the internet.
If you want to post, or reply, you have to join the City. There is a Sky Diwaniyya in the Kuwait section that is always entertaining reading.
Palm Island Resort, UAE from Skyscraper City Forum
The Pearl in Doha
We’ve been watching the creation of a whole new living area in Doha, the Pearl. Like the palm tree in Bahrain, and similar creations in the UAE, the islands are being created with materials from destroyed buildings, and landfill.
In Qatar, it will be one of two areas where non-Qatteris can buy property, the other being the West Bay Lagoon, near where The Pearl is also being created by the Al Fardan Group.
Sorry for the poor photo quality, but it’s taken through the airplane window. Aargh. It’s interesting seeing where the channels are being dredged for the private boat docks.
A Tale of Two Cities: Kuwait and Doha
Departing Kuwait was chaos. The gates down which you walk straight into the plane seem to be non-operational, and the teeming hoardes are shipped out to the planes in buses. At gates 22-23, security was clearing people for flights to Dubai, Muskat, China and Doha, all at the same time.
People would crowd toward to gate, only to be told “Not Now! Not Now! Now is Muskat!” “Now is Doha!” “over there is China!” but as some people spoke neither English nor Arabic, there was mass confusion. Planes, unable to depart on time because passengers had not been boarded, were only steps from the airport, but still, passengers were boarded onto buses and taken out. Sheer chaos.
Arrival in Doha was smooth, if quirky. In Doha, if your baggage is marked Priority or Business, it comes off the plane last. Not just this time, but the entire time I lived in Doha, this uniqueness was the rule rather than the exception.
Doha has the Miss America entrance just like Kuwait, and fortunately my friends were there to greet me and whisk me away. But in Doha, unlike Kuwait, the exit is chaos. Private cars are waiting for arrivals, taxis, limos, and a thousand laborors stand dazed at the exit, waiting to be told what to do. Threading our way through the chaos, we race for the car and exit, making our way into the city where we meet our husbands for dinner.
It was a very short trip, but I have a few more Doha photos to share with you. The Doha skyline is changing dramatically. Here is the new Museum of Islamic Art, due to open shortly – notice anything?
This is the new Qatar Center for the Presentation of Islam building – it includes a mosque, library, coffee shop and meeting rooms (the one on the left):
This is the first we have seen of dhows being built in the old way in Doha:
Last, the continually changing Corniche skyline:
Qatar Air Doha 1st Class Lounge
This is the jacuzzi for wearied women travellers . . .
Bring it ONNNNNN!
This is where you sleep if you have a couple hours to kill:
And this is where you eat – and the food is YUMMY:
You check in seated at a desk, then go through customs to the duty-free and the excalator upstairs. At the top of the stairs you are directed to the left for Business or the Right to the First Class Lounge.
From the moment you walk in, the atmosphere in the First Class Lounge is soothing and spa like. Sheets of cascading water down glass walls, ethereal soft music, and all watery colors. Easy to fall asleep, and it’s OK, because they come and get you, personally, when you need to board for your flight. Amazing. Kinda the ultimate.
Naaahhhh, I don’t travel first class all the time. Had to get someplace, weren’t any other tickets available. Enjoyed it all the way.
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