Doha Changes Update
Just after I mentioned the closing of the Q-Mart, I was at The Mall (yes, it was the first mall in Doha, and it is called The Mall, even on the maps) and saw this new sign on the place where the opening of the supermarket would be:
Spinney’s is what the place behind the Ramada that is now called The MegaMart used to be called. I would die of happiness if this were a MegaMart/ShopRite opening at The Mall. Yep. Prices are high. And they have just-the-right-thing-when-you-need-it. Wooo HOOOOO.
Doha Changes
As well as the bulldozers razing entire areas, there are smaller changes taking place in Doha. A supermarket, The Q-Mart, open the first time I was living in Doha, and still open when I got here, has closed – for good – as the guard told us when we went to buy some produce. Q-Mart always had the best produce.
And when I went to show some visiting friends the Esphahan, the Iranian restaurant down at the Souq al Waqif, the door was closed tight and this sign was on the door:
Sharing Your Faith in Qatar Gets Leader Deported
I heard a very strange tale and while there is nothing in the paper about it, I wonder where the truth lies. This week, the leader of the local Phillipine evangelical church (I don’t know the exact name) and his wife and three daughters and grandson were visited by the CID one morning and told that they had to be out of the country by night, that they needed to go back to the Phillipines. The person who told me could not imagine what might have caused this.
These are good people, she told me, and we are just about to do a performance about Joseph and his dreams, and his wife was making the costumes.
I thought about it, and said that well, it is an evangelical church, meaning you seek actively to bring souls to Jesus, and it is forbidden by law, in Qatar, to share our faith with Moslems. Is there any chance he was trying to convert Moslems?
She told me that people attending the church were expected to bring visitors, and that when visitors came, they were welcomed to the front of the church, where they were baptized.
I was horrorified. “Do they have any understanding of what is happening?” I asked her, and she replied no, and that most of the baptized visitors never come back. But, she added, the director still gets credit for all those baptisms, and his statistics look pretty good when he reports back to the church in the Phillipines.
In addition to her tithe (Christians are supposed to give 10% of their income to the church and charities) she said members of the congretation were tasked extra monies to pay the rent on the villa, to pay for food and travel of visitors who stayed there, etc, and she said it put a great burden on those who didn’t have sufficient income to contribute the extra. She said it wasn’t a voluntary contribution; if you didn’t contribute the extra, it was like you weren’t really a part of the church.
Last weekend, among those baptized, was a new Nigerian Moslem family who had been invited to visit. I can only imagine how I would feel, visiting a church, invited to the front to be welcomed, and then receiving a baptism I neither asked for nor wanted. I would never come back, but if I were Moslem, I might be horrified enough – and angry enough – to report it to the authorities. To me, at the very least, it is disrespectful.
There may be more to this story than the few details I was given. I expect the entire story is fascinating.
Residence
We all know the drill, the expat drill we all go through to become residents. Residency is not something to be sniffed at, if you don’t have it, really bad things can happen.
So today was the day I needed to get my medical exam. What a difference from the last time, six years ago.
Six years ago, we went to an old, dilapidated hospital in the center of town with terrible parking. There were long lines in the hot sun everywhere. I don’t remember there being any air conditioning. What I do remember is walking down a hallway littered with the used cotton balls people had discarded after having their blood taken for the blood tests. I was nearly ill – blood carries diseases, and here were these bloody balls all over the floor.
When it was my turn to have my blood taken, the women who took my blood – six years ago – was eating salted pumpkin seeds. I saw the thought cross her mind that she ought to put on the gloves, right there in the box on her desk, but if she did, she couldn’t continue munching, so she decided not to. I watched her take a fresh needle – I was saving my protest to insist on a fresh needle had she decided she could re-use an old one. I choose my battles.
I closed my eyes and prayed. She did OK, she got the blood she needed and was still munching on the pumpkin seeds as I left to go get my X-ray.
In the X-ray room there were all these women in USED hospital gowns, one would take one off and the next woman would put it on. I had been warned to bring a white T-shirt, and that would be acceptable, which it was. There was no dressing room, just one big changing room.
I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Fast forward six years – new, modern air conditioned medical facility outside the city with lots of parking. I’m already feeling more positive, although I do have my clean T-shirt. The phlebotomist is in a white jacket, clean and neat, and is supplied with all kinds of sterile supplies. The blood work takes maybe 30 seconds, thanks be to God, because I am a little squeamish about people taking my blood, and one time, I even fainted, but just for a few seconds. Not this time – it was over before I could even get too worried about it.
The X-ray was orderly, and there were stacks and stacks and stacks and bags of clean gowns, and even three fairly clean changing rooms. I still wore my own T-shirt, since I had it. The only thing that bothered me was that there were bins to put the used gowns when the X-ray was finished, but the women tossed them on the floor! There is a part of me that almost picked them all up and put them in the bin, but they called my name just as I was about to do it.
The process was so orderly, so painless this time! And, God willing, soon I will be a legal Qatar resident and even, soon, insh’allah, a legal driver. I still have my old Qateri driving license, it will just need to be renewed. (I also have my 10-year Kuwait license, because in expat world, you just never know. I also have my lifetime German driving license because in expat world, you just never know. And I have my stateside driver’s license to take care of me there. 🙂 )
Skimpy Clothing in Qatar
Yesterday, there was a report of two Filipina gals arrested for wearing shorts and halter tops to a local mall. This morning, we saw spaghetti straps, totally strapless tops, and very bare halter tops at brunch. When new people come to work here, are the companies giving them any guidelines? Are the women (in particular) listening?
We lived in Tunis in the early 1980’s, and an artist friend silkscreened some gorgeous t-shirts which said, in Arabic – We are not tourists, we live here. Tunis was inundated with European tourists, on vacation, wearing very little and many interested in a vacation “romance.” These tourists made it very difficult for the rest of us, who worked and lived in Tunis and respected the customs of modest dress, and who did NOT want romance or even attention. We just wanted to live our mundane little lives in peace! But who could blame the men? To them, we were all the same, Western. To them, Western equalled loose. It made life very difficult for us. (she says with gritted teeth!)
From today’s Peninsula:
‘All men and women should avoid wearing skimpy dress’
Web posted at: 7/24/2009 3:8:12
Source ::: THE PENINSULA
DOHA: As the controversy over women from some nationalities wearing revealing clothes rages, there are some citizens who believe that females from some Arab nationalities cannot be excluded from these categories.
Perhaps, they (some Arab women) wear more revealing clothes than their Western counterparts, is the view of these citizens who call for waging a campaign to create public awareness about following a dress code in the public.
Men, especially those who wear sleeveless undergarments and half pants exposing themselves while in the public, are also a target of those who believe that a strict dress code should be followed by all foreigners in the country to respect local social and religious values and traditions.
Here is what some people, including men and women, feel about the issue:
Rashid Hassan — Qatari
“The embassies of major manpower exporting countries here should take a cue from the diplomatic mission of the US, which recently released an advisory for US nationals urging them not to wear revealing clothes. The embassies should also make people from their countries here aware of local social and religious traditions and the need to respect them.”
“We must also launch an awareness campaign. And in shopping centers, particularly which families frequent, security personnel should be trained and alerted to stop such people who are wearing revealing dresses from entering the premises.
“These security personnel should be Arab nationals because only they will be able to help enforce the dress code.”
Rakesh Patel — Indian
“We have to respect local social and religious values and traditions. We have come here to work, make some savings and go back to our respective home countries. So it is binding on us that as long as we are here, we must follow the local norms and traditions and not hurt in any way the sentiments of local people.”
“Like the US embassy, the Indian embassy here should also launch an awareness campaign for Indian expatriates on the issue. The embassy of the Philippines has also recently waged a similar campaign. It’s a welcome move. I am all for respecting local values and traditions at any cost.”
Wesal Hilmi — Syrian
“I am surprised that some married women are among those who wear revealing clothes. We don’t agree with such people. They have to respect our cultural, social and religious values which are reflected in the way we dress.”
“We have been hearing that a committee (at the government) has been set up which is
Looking into the issue and it is gearing up to launch an awareness campaign. If it is true it is a welcome development.”
Ahmed Sabir — Egyptian
“Arabs and Muslims like to cling to their heritage and culture. It is unfortunate that some foreigners here do not show any respect for our social values and traditions. However, we cannot force them to wear what we would like them to, but we can launch an awareness campaign and raise the issue with them. We can convince them through these campaigns to respect our culture, religious values and traditions.”
“In Ramadan, they do show respect for our values and practices. Likewise, they should be made aware and urged to respect our traditions as regards our dressing habits and the need not to wear revealing clothes in public.”
Sherwin — Flipino
“We are here to work. We must respect local people, their social and religious values and traditions.”
Vachy — Filipina
“We must follow and encourage what our country’s embassy here is doing urging us to respect local traditions. They should enforce a law in Qatar making a strict dress code in accordance with local traditions, mandatory.”
Abdullah Hussein — Qatari
“What one wears is one’s own choice. We can’t force people to wear clothes we like. It’s a matter of individual freedom and I believe in personal freedom.”
“I agree that people should respect our social and religious values and traditions, but they should do it voluntarily. We cannot force them. We can only make them aware through campaigns. We can convince them about that and we have to be extremely polite doing that.”
What we don’t want is for the Qataris to get to the point of forming the kind of morality police they have in Saudi Arabia, armed with sticks for hitting offenders, and with arbitrary powers to sort-of arrest offenders. If we don’t monitor ourselves, that is the risk we take.
This is not our country. We do not have the right to dress as we would back home. Please, get a clue.
The Outdoor Cat Channel
This morning I was startled out of a sound sleep by the piteous crying of the Qatteri Cat. Adreneline pumping, I jumped out of bed, calling out “QC! QC! Are you OK?” even though it was only 0430 and AdventureMan was still sleeping.
He didn’t come, just continued crying, a different cry, I was afraid maybe he was hurt.
I ran downstairs, and found him in the small living room, looking out through the curtains at the outdoor cat.
We haven’t seen the outdoor cat for a while. She is looking pretty thin, and very tired, very worn out. I am guessing she is maybe eight or nine months old – and, hmmmm, she looks pregnant, skinny and pregnant and exhausted.
I keep cat food and water on hand for the passing-by outdoor cat, they never stay around long, but I am always good for a handout. I fix her a bowl of food and water, and take it out the door that Qatteri Cat doesn’t know about. The outdoor cat eats ravenously, and then sacks out.
Meanwhile, Qatteri Cat continues to cry, hoping I will let him be an outside cat, too. He watches the outdoor cat, every move she makes. He doesn’t understand the price these poor little kitties pay for living their outdoor life.
Doha Museum of Islamic Art, Take 4
I can’t let friends or family come to Doha without a trip to the serene beauty of the Doha Museum of Islamic Art. Little Diamond was content to view the exhibits at her own speed, so I visited a few of my favorite friends:
I never tire of spending time with Iznik Tiles
There is an Iranian piece that bowls me over with its beauty
And I just have this thing for light fixtures. This is a mosque lamp, and I think it is Turkish
But oh, look at the interior of the museum itself:
There is a breathtaking view of the Corniche Skyline from the spot where, on the map, they say the coffee shop should be. It really needs a coffee shop there. The restrooms are immaculate, the gift shop has lovely items, the exhibits are lush and beautiful, but you need a place to sit and think about what you’ve seen, compare notes, recharge so you can go back and take another look at something you are wondering about. It really, really needs that coffee shop.
Souq Al Waqif and The Tajine
I can’t let Little Diamond leave Doha without one more visit to the Souk al Waqif. She used to go with me in the old days, when the souk was really really really HOT, and stuffy, and even a little dirty, and the pathways were dark and potholed, so you could easily trip or fall down. Some people I would take loved the place, some didn’t want to set foot inside. It was considered dangerous, and off limits to the military folk.
I miss the scribes. I miss the shoemakers. I miss the little hardware stalls, where when I would ask for masonry nails, 3/4″, they would take me by my sleeve to the man who sold masonry nails. It was a sweet souk then.
It is a WOW souk now. Many of the vendors are the same, even though some have gone missing. There is still the canvas sailmaker, and the fishing supplies man, and the bird souk. There is still the HUGE kitchen souk, and I don’t mean it is a large store, I mean it is a store for giant people, who cook in pots the size that a grown man or woman – or both – could hide in!
When we lived in Jordan, we used to be invited to feasts, Mensefs, a huge rice dish, served with goat most often, sometimes chicken, rarely lamb or mutton (sheep) if it was a really really special occasion on huge round trays. The trays in the Souk Al Waqif would probably serve twenty men at one time, they are so huge.
People say you can’t stop progress. When we lived in Doha the last time, the municipality put in meters for paid street parking. Qatteris were so outraged that the meters were ripped back out without ever being used. I wonder where all those hundreds of unused parking meters ended up?
Today there is a story in the paper about paid parking going in at the Souq al Waqif, and they quote five or six people who are wildly enthusiastic about the idea and all I can wonder is . . . where did they find people who would publicly say they were in favor of PAYING for parking that they always have had for free? The article says that now they will have less competition from large trucks, but when we are there at congested times, it is normal everyday SUV’s and family goat-trucks that are competing for the parking spaces. I wonder if the public perception has changed so much in five years that people are now openly praising paid parking?
It isn’t costly. It’s going to be like 3QR – less than a dollar. It also isn’t covered, and when you park your car in the lot, it is hotter than anything you can imagine when you come out, even if it is only 0930 and only been sitting there for an hour. The best time to go is night, during these hot summer months, and even so – the place is hopping. Even on a week night, there are so many good restaurants down in the Souk al Waqif restaurant row that it is a go-to place for a dinner out.
We tried the Tagine, as we all like Moroccan Food.
The greeting was warm, and the service was attentive.
The food was excellent. Now I have an admission to make, one I have had to make frequently – I forgot to take a photo when the food was served, so all you can see is the mostly eaten remains. I am so sorry, sincerely sorry, but it smelled SO good, and we were SO hungry.
We sat overlooking the souks. There is a wonderful terrace for outdoor dining, but it is just a little too hot and humid for us to enjoy eating outside right now. We can hardly wait for October, when those cooler breezes start blowing.
These are the pre-starter nibbles, delicious olives, a tangy spicy Harissa paste, and delicious fresh-baked bread that melts in your mouth:
We ordered the mixed hot starters, which all disappeared before I thought to take a photo, and Little Diamond had the Addas (lentil) soup, also very good, also not photographed. We had the Moroccan Salad and Zaalouk, an eggplant/ tomato salad we adore. Yep. We were so hungry I forgot to take photos.
AdventureMan ordered Chicken With Slim Bread because we had never heard of it before and it sounded interesting. It was good. He shared with me. 🙂 He also chose the CousCous with 7 Vegetables, because when we lived in Tunisia, we were told traditionally it was always supposed to have seven vegetables (and one was always squash, and there were always garbanzo beans, and there was always tomato, and pretty much always carrot – it was always a very vegetable-y dish). It doesn’t sound like we ordered that much, but it was so delicious, and so filling, that it there was food left over.
The bill was reasonable. Wine and beer are not available, and that keeps the totals lower. We rolled ourselves back to the car, already planning our next trip to his delightful restaurant.
Once the sun goes down, the heat isn’t so bad. The Souq Al Waqif is so much fun at night. Everyone goes there – the locals, the expats, the tourists – it thrills my heart to see a public space so well loved, so well used. There are some very cool art spots going in, too!
One of my good friends told me there is a blog in Arabic that talks about searching for a restaurant I had written about in Mubarakiyya, only to find out it was in Doha. The blogger had invited guests. I felt so bad. So I will add this: WARNING WARNING THIS RESTAURANT IS IN DOHA, QATAR, NOT IN KUWAIT!
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:
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