Thanksgiving in Doha, Qatar

This was our first November in Qatar and we weren’t quite sure how we would be celebrating Thanksgiving. Our schedule wasn’t set in stone until late in the month so we were glad that some Americans we met right after we moved here called to ask whether we would be interested in getting together for the holiday. We of course said yes and offered to bring our usual dishes - giblet gravy, pecan pie, cranberry sauce, a green bean casserole and rolls. I offered to make mashed potatoes for twenty people and she said not to worry that her maid makes wonderful mashed potatoes and would take care of it. So plans were made and the menu was set.

A few days later our new next-door neighbors invited us to their house for a Thanksgiving celebration the night before the American Thanksgiving - warning us ahead of time that everyone spoke Spanish. We again said we would love to attend and would bring giblet gravy, cranberry sauce, and a dessert. She said yes they needed a gravy. She also requested four chairs and bottle of white wine, which for the first time in our lives, we actually had on hand. I again offered to make mashed potatoes and was told not to worry that someone else was bringing potatoes.

Our first mistake was assuming that we would be able to find pie shells and traditional western rolls in this land of incredible bakers (they probably don’t sell them in Paris either), the second was not buying the fried onions that we both remembering laughing at somewhere on a random grocery store shelf and then never able to find them again, third was assuming that gravy means the same thing to a Latin as it does to a southerner, and our fourth was making an early unscheduled stop at our favorite bakery here – The Lebanese Bakery on Salwa Road. We actually left with more for us to eat at home in three days than we had planned to take to both dinners - and the smallest tray of sweets that they sell – since they sell these by the kilo – there is no such thing as a small tray.

The Lebanese Bakery reminds me of the original Gambinos Bakery in New Orleans. You know when you enter that it has been around for a while and the guys that work there seem to take great pride in what they sell. There are always people flying in and out of the parking lot and several times, we have seen young men in chef clothes buying piles of the Arab bread. There are way too many Middle Eastern sweets, different breads – there is always a rack of freshly baked Arabic bread – and a counter full of beautifully decorated cookies – some tied with ribbon in little boxes and many beautifully decorated cakes. We assumed the golden ones were butterscotch but when we asked we were told they were mango. I can’t wait to try one.

Both hostesses called when they defrosted their turkeys and we picked up the giblets. I have never ever seen giblets this large – the necks were almost four inches in diameter and had lots of meat – all of the rest of the giblet parts were the largest I have ever seen. Then we planned our shopping trip knowing that this usually involving at least two stores. The pie shell search was a total failure, the onions on the top of the green bean casserole were going to be a challenge and we were disgustingly elated when we found both kinds of cranberry sauce on an end shelf at Megamarket. On one pass through the mega parking lot – we did see a brand new maroon Mercedes with the sun roof open with a gorgeous three or four year old girl in dark purple spangly cowboy boots standing on the console with her head sticking through the sunroof. Her father in full national dress, sunglasses and cell phone to ear was driving. I kept waiting for her to do the Miss America wave!

Early afternoon my husband delivered the chairs next door and after some (seriously I swear) discussion between he and Jannette (our next-door neighbor and hostess) about how to mark the chairs so we would know which were ours and which were theirs, we all had a good laugh as all of the villas here have exactly the same furniture and who would ever know which chairs were which and more importantly who would care! While they were moving chairs, I asked her again about the mashed potatoes and she looked puzzled and said no it was potato salad that her friend was bringing. Trying to be sensitive to the language differences, I asked what we would be putting the gravy on and she said maybe the rice, maybe the turkey – she wasn’t sure!

We made our bakery run and picked up a tray of a local sweets – luqmat al-qadi – they look like donut holes – fried dough pastry with a dab of cinnamon and honey in the center and sprinkled with ground pistachio. I had these at the tour of the Fanar cultural center with a tiny cup of local coffee and they are beyond addicting. No one at the dinner had ever seen them but the entire tray was empty before we even started clearing the table.

When we showed up with gravy, wine and cranberry sauce – everyone was so nice all in Spanish. I am picking up a little bit and they all wanted to speak a little English so eventually I figured out who all of the beautiful dark eyed children belonged to, who was married to who and how to make Nicholas (the 18 month child who lives next door) laugh out loud with an orange napkin.

One of the guys from Spain asked me if the little things in the gravy were garlic and actually looked squeamish when I told him they were boiled eggs. There was a beautiful young mother from Venezuela who I hope will share her dressing recipe – sausage, almonds – spicy and wonderful who asked me in charming broken English if gravy was something we had on holidays with the turkey bird. I was trying to explain southern dressing, mashed potatoes, peas and gravy with the turkey when her husband first tasted the gravy. “Mag, your southern sauce is delicious!”

The combination of foods was really interesting, everyone was friendly and we met some new people. We do love our neighborhood!

The next morning, another trip through the bakery – we bought a beautifully decorated chocolate cake with shaved pieces of chocolate on the sides with strawberries and a little whipped cream on top – and on top of that were carefully placed animal crackers which we figured were a gift to the Americans who seemed to be shopping there every day!

Green bean casserole without crispy fried onions – wouldn’t be the same so we mixed the mushroom soup and cans of green beans and then used the mandolin to cover the top with thinly sliced purple onions. I thought they would be way to sweet but after cooking for an hour – it was perfect! We had another delicious dinner – way too much food and a little bit of wine and a cup of coffee or two, we came home and couldn’t get off of the couch for the rest of the evening!

National Dress of Qatari Men

Male Qatari’s wear the thobe (called a dishdash in some other Arab countries) that is a full-length white shirtdress with a wide traditional collar, French cuffs, deep side pockets and one chest pocket. There is also an inverted pleat in the back similar to Oxford shirts. It either buttons or zips half way down and is usually worn with sandals although I have seen one elderly gentleman with socks and shoes. Almost always crisp and sparkling white, they are worn with a variety of cufflinks, all large but with many different designs and gemstones. All of the thobes here are exactly the same. There are such distinct differences in the cut of these robes across the Gulf region that an Arab can usually tell what country a man is from by the tailoring details of his robe.

The one issue that I have thought about is the lack of a vent in the back as this makes it hard to take long steps (a lesson I learned the hard way stepping across a shallow muddy ditch in a bridesmaids dress 34 years ago). Understandably, you don’t see too many men running here.

The headwear is the Ghutra (headscarf) topped with a braided black cord with tassels at the end called an Ogaal that hangs down the back after being tied at the crown of the head. I think they are like ties – once they are tied, some people never redo them – they just plop them on top of the ghutra and go. The Ghutras are either red and white checked – not like the pictures that we see in the US with all of the fringe but more like oversized handkerchiefs or they are white – again crisply ironed and meticulously folded. Some of the white ones have designs and some are sheer, others are a thicker fabric. Some are flipped up, some are flipped over – from what we have heard – how a young man arranges his scarf is more of a fashion statement than anything symbolic.

The established Islamic protocol is for men to cover the area between the belly button and the knees called the awrah or ‘defectives’. Speedos would not work. The thobe easily accomplishes this. I haven’t had the nerve yet to Google what they wear underneath them. They may well be similar to kilts.

There are many shops in the souks that make thobes and tourists often seem to be buying them but all of the fabric I saw there was fairly thin lightweight polyester. I think the beautiful tailored ones made of incredible fabrics are purchased in a Qatari version of Brooks Brothers, which we may never see.

Waiting for a friend at the entrance to the local mall, I actually had the opportunity to watch what seemed to be a man in his forties with an older woman watching (wife #1) teach a younger woman (wife #2) how to use the ATM. He handed her the card with what could only be described as a flourish along with a packet that I assumed held the pin number. He walked her through how to insert the card, input the pin and how to withdraw 1000 QAR at a time. If I was eavesdropping correctly – she is allowed to do this when necessary but not more than eight times a month. After she meticulously counted her money and put the card, paper and money into a small purse (wife #1 had a large designer bag), the three of them headed off for another day of shopping.

Before moving here, I had seen many pictures of men in this attire but what is not conveyed in photographs is the serious masculinity and virility projected by Arab men dressed in their national dress. They exude a strong sense of pride and confidence that is probably connected somehow to the idea that men are superior, etc but whatever the reason – it is clear they are very aware of who wields the power.

My husband did have a chance to talk to a young man about wearing the thobe after seeing him dressed one day in jeans and another in the national dress. He explained how comfortable and easy it is to wear the thobe. My spouse also commented on the difference in his appearance – jeans and t-shirt – casual and just like everyone else. Thobe – presented as taller, more serious, strong and confident

Trip to the Souks

I am still adjusting to the idea that Sunday is actually Monday as far as the workweek goes. Sunday morning is the first day of school each week and the first day back on the job for the construction workers so it is full of energy from the first step outside.

We decided to go to Souk (market) Waqif to look for a wrought iron bracket to hold our birdfeeder. This sounds so simple. Souk Waqif is a low concrete open air complex with small crowded hallways. It has rows of spice souks, rows of hardware souks, rows of fabric souks, rows of thobe (national dress for men) souks with a few ‘antique’ souks thrown in the mix. It took us forty five minutes to get downtown and into the parking lot which left us exactly thirty five minutes to buy birdseed, find a bracket and check out the falcon souk before the entire area closed for prayers and rest.

Walking inside always makes me smile as the smell is magic. There are barrels and sacks of dried spices, teas and coffee, beans and nuts. Wizened old porters will shop with you and they use wheelbarrows! The wheelbarrows are padded with burlap and these guys follow patiently behind you loading whatever you buy into them. You can buy anything in the souks! Fifty pounds of rice, lentils by the kilos, fabulous sari fabric by the meter and aluminum pots of every size – the brianni pots are large enough to fry a turkey. Someone told me yesterday that whatever I was looking for is always available here in Doha – the issue is where to find it. I have a feeling I will be spending some time learning my way around the souks finding something new each trip!

We had no problem finding the little shop that we like for the birdseed although I did have to seriously avert my eyes when we passed the pet stores. There are not too many regulations here regarding the care of animals for sale. There is the same attachment to the idea of the “in” pet as there was in Singapore. If it is cool – one must have one. Remember when everyone had to have a Dalmatian after the movie came out. There are animals in cages during the summer with no water, there are birds that have the oddest faces – as soon as I figure out how to post pictures, I will because these are really odd – and the latest controversy is the dyeing of rabbits and cats.

We had to ask directions a few times to the falcon souk and it turned out to be smaller than I had thought but way cooler. There were about twelve hooded birds tethered to stands spaced about a meter apart. There was a man in the back making the colorful leather hoods by hand – small works of art. We tried to ask questions but there wasn’t much English spoken. At the shop next door, there was a local man checking out the larger falcons – he took the hoods off of one or two and seemed very vocal in Arabic about how dry the eyes of the birds were. He actually picked up what looked like a small watering can and squirted water in their faces, which they seemed to enjoy. On the way back to find somewhere to have lunch, we looked in the window of the first shop and there was a young man holding a falcon on his arm. He saw us looking and said to come in and take a look, which we did. Up close the birds are strong with fierce eyes. There were stuffed animals all over the lace that have been killed by various champion falcons. There was even a picture of an ibis or crane that was killed by a falcon a sixth of his size. The price of these birds ranges from 4,000 to 100,000 QAR. From what we understand, the championship birds can be up to 1,000,000.00 QAR. I have a feeling that the souks selling falcons are like the pet stores selling hunting dogs in the states, that the important sales take place elsewhere.

We walked around looking at the various restaurants and selected a Moroccan one with bright yellow chairs with blue piping around blue and yellow mosaic tile tabletops with a brass plate in the center for the shisha pipe. The menu actually had Tanjia with camel – fresh local baby camel cooked in a traditional pot with Special Moroccan Spices – we passed on this and instead had the Harrira classic Soup – Moroccan chickpeas, tomato and lentils and lemon! Excellent! We also had Zaalouk – mashed eggplant with Moroccan Spices, which was also incredible. Mike had the mixed meat kofka with saffron rice and vegetables. Afterwards I had Moroccan coffee la-te that – no surprise - is half milk and half coffee that arrived in a juice glass that was too hot to pick up. It definitely slows things down. We had to take the time to sit and savor the moment!

On the way home we stopped at a roundabout with a newly installed signal light. It was flashing yellow and the front three vehicles were stopped– the moment it turned red – all three launched into the intersection! I did have to laugh out loud. Every time we are out I see drivers do things I can’t believe I’m seeing.

Today the news in brief said the Emir H H Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani (leader of Qatar) will join the faithful to perform the Istiska (rain seeking prayer). The Istiska prayer follows the Sunnah – sayings and deeds of the Prophet Mohammed who performed these prayers whenever the seasonal rainfall was delayed. No rain as of yet but the clouds were gathering as we drove home – the first gray clouds I’ve seen in the desert!

It's All in The Name

Friday is the Islamic Sabbath so there is a lot less traffic and the city feels like a Sunday afternoon – a little slower with people getting ready for the workweek. The Shorook (Sunrise) call to prayer was promptly at 5:54 this morning just as the sun was rising. From what I had heard before we moved here, I was expecting a tinny recorded call to prayer but the first time I heard it here – I realized that these are live beautiful baritone voices and they resonate over the sand. Since there are as many mosques here as there are churches in Memphis, the call to prayer comes from every direction. We have a small patio with a ten-foot concrete wall around it and there is a mosque within five hundred yards. Sitting outside and listening to the Maghrib (Sunset) call to prayer just as dusk is settling in and the temperature is dropping – is amazingly serene.

Today the plan was to go to the first Annual Holiday Bazaar hosted by the Emprendedoras (Entrepreneurs) Doha. There was a great photo in the morning paper with lots of hats. I have been seriously looking for a hat that doesn’t elicit a “Digger O’Dell” comment every time I wear it and two of my new neighbors had a table selling Christmas ornaments and clothing from Vietnam. The paper said the bazaar was at Alfarden Gardens Compound 1. We have lived here five months and I have heard many people talk about Alfarden Gardens so that should easy, right? I got out my Marhaba, which is Qatar’s Premier Information Guide, looking for directions – not to be found. I googled Alfarden Garden Compound 1 – nothing helpful. I called an acquaintance that has been here for four years and she said there were four Alfarden Garden Compounds – 1,2,3 and 4. They are all over Doha - #4 is right near us and #2 is near the airport. I made the comment that they should have some new names and she laughed – “These guys here want their names everywhere – they want you to know these are their compounds – we will probably end up with Alfarden Gardens Compound #5 and #6 right down the street.”

I finally had to call my friend who had the booth and ask for directions! I bought a great hat and found out that one of my neighbors has been buying clothes from Vietnam for years and even sold to a large department store in Singapore – the price tag was still on one of the shirts! She said it is so simple, Meg, I found a provider, I design the clothes and they ship them to me – so simple right! The clothes are beautiful colorful slippery silk things.

On the drive to find the compound, we passed a building that seems similar to a men’s club – a place for men to meet and have coffee, smoke shisha and talk. Emerging from the front door was a handsome young Qatari in national dress with the red and white checked headdress. He was attempting to put on his sunglasses with his right hand and on his left arm was perched a hooded falcon. Beautiful bird and much larger than I had thought they would be. He looked as if he was planning to hop in his Land Cruiser and take off with the falcon perched beside him. Falconry is a huge sport here – enormous sums of money are spent both for the birds and their training. They are even allowed in economy class on Qatar Airways.

When it was all said and done, it took hours to find the place, thirty minutes to shop and twenty minutes after we got home to eat the entire jar of eggplant antipasti that we bought. Delicious! The hat is great but the falcon was the coolest.

Every afternoon lately, we have seen flocks of duck and geese flying overhead. In formation, no less and we can’t figure out if they are lost or migrating. I have to think they are ducks as they are very quiet.

The afternoon’s entertainment has been watching the workmen dig through the brick sidewalk into the sand – digging a hole deep enough to plant a tree in front of villa #5. . Our compound has no greenery so we are going to bring in our own. ‘First Tree Grows in 18 Villas!’ Eventually we will all have a tree with a two-meter patch of green (hopefully green). My green thumb will be put to the test – I will be sick if ours is the first to die!

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Front page of the newspaper had great news. “Men too can get driving licence for automatic cars”. The Department of Traffic and Patrol has relaxed driving rules, allowing men and women alike to seek a special licence to drive automatic cars.

Upon reading the article, I now understand why my next-door neighbor has AUTOMATIC stamped on her Qatari license. According to the article, she is not allowed to drive a car with a manual transmission at all.

Apparently the same people that do the testing for the licensing bureau own the driving school as further along it is specified that if one is in the middle of driving lessons in a manual car, one is not allowed to switch to an automatic car – even if one already knows how to drive an automatic car! I would imagine some of these people caught in the middle of a driving course that involves both “theory classes along with the practical classes” taught by someone whose English is not their first language are probably ready to slit their wrists after seeing this! I can say this from experience (my bookkeeping class with the Chinese instructor speaking English just for me) as it is exhausting to listen to someone who is trying to teach in their second language as I am sure it is exhausting for the person doing the instructing!

Women applying for a driving license go through an arduous process to get that little piece of plastic – at least those of us who must take the testing route do. An appointment must be made and women are only allowed in the application center during the “Ladies Only” hours, which seem to be between 5 and 6:30 AM. So an appointment is made at 5:30 in the morning and upon arrival at 5 AM just to be on the safe side – the line is out of the door! Forms are completed, letters from husband’s employer, copies of his passport, and copies of his resident visa are attached but at least in this country, no permission letter is required.

Then comes the ‘SIGNS’ test – some are internationally recognized and some are veeery interesting. There is a great picture of a bugle with a red line through it – of course that means – No Honking, there is a sign with a red car and a black car driving side by side – of course that means No overtaking (passing), the sign that I thought was a fire hydrant is actually a sign indicating that there is a side road ahead to the right. There is one sign that is a triangle with a large exclamation point – Caution and the Beware of animals of course has a Camel. The triangle with the X in the middle means intersection ahead opposed to a triangle with a circle, which means watch out – roundabout ahead. Highways are high-speed carriageways, U turns are referred to as backwards turns and as the terminology in the signs test must be accurate, the western reference to U turns has failed a few people.

Occasionally at this point in the process– the administrator comes out of her office and calls out, “Go home and come back tomorrow – no more room for ladies today. Come back tomorrow” which drives the expats who have been waiting for two hours absolutely insane! There is no discussing it and there is no recourse.

Upon arrival the next morning and instructed to get on the waiting unairconditioned bus, which after being fully loaded with expats, women in black and maids is driven 200 meters to the area where the actual driving test is given. From what I understand, the test consists of driving up a ramp, making sure to stop at the STOP line which is a faded barely visible white line, proceeding to back down the ramp, parking and then driving around a roundabout with very little traffic. No similarity whatsoever to actually driving in Doha. People that don’t pass are stopped in the middle of the parking lot – told “Get out of the car! You have failed!” – Very little explanation as the language barrier is substantial.

Obtaining a drivers license here is a challenge but also an adventure and must be looked at as a process not an errand. I have to remind myself that prior to moving to Singapore, I had to get a new license in a new state and it took four hours to complete the process. Thinking back to the people that were waiting with me, it might not be such a bad idea to have “Ladies Only Hours” in the rural south.

Qatari women are very modest as in most countries in this part of the world. The national dress for women here is covered in modest black with only the eyes visible. The total outfit is beautifully feminine but seems rather difficult to maneuver in.

After seeing these women in the shopping center, it was a surprise the first time we passed one driving along in one of the ever-popular Land Cruisers. She was not only completely covered; she had on an oversized pair of sunglasses! The overall effect is pretty intimidating especially when you stop wondering how she sees what traffic is around her and realize that she doesn’t. She looks straight ahead and plows on. The flip side of this is that these are the more independent women.

With men, women or hired drivers sometimes there are small children climbing around in the car - back and forth over the seats – standing in the front seat – waving to people out of the back window. It is a shock to see children loose in a car – we take it for granted that doesn’t happen any more. When they wave at us with big smiles, it is all I can do not to point at my seatbelt and say “Put it on!”

Drivers Education here takes place in white sedans (similar to the sedan type Toyotas in the eighties) with the letter “L” on the back of the car in red duct tape. We assume this stands for Learner. There is sometimes a red strip running down the side of the car but the “L” is usually pretty easy to spot. The same “L” is on the backs of large lorries (trucks) that sometimes have four people squished into the front seat – all helping the guy behind the steering wheel maneuver through the roundabouts. We see these “L” s frequently as we live on the outskirts of the city and this is where they practice.

Traditionally a female Qatari would only be allowed to have a female instructor for the driving course, but surprisingly we have seen some with male teachers. I still haven’t found out whether the instructor/passenger side has a steering wheel or brake pedals but if I fail my driving test, I will find out the hard way.

The best was the day that we saw an “L” care with both the instructor and the student completely covered with large sunglasses was a shock. I wanted to follow them and watch since the instructor was waving her hands vehemently – maybe suggesting that the student look before pulling out into the roundabout - but my driver refused.

The western female drivers are interesting too! There is no handbook here as to lane usage and expats from some countries are allowed to just exchange their drivers license for a Qatari one with no requirement to learn the rules. Currently, most women arriving from my home country are required to take both a ‘sign’ and an actual driving test (exception being wives of certain large companies’ executives) and I am not sure which is better. Rumor has it that an influential Qatari was denied a license somewhere in my country and was quite angry.

But no worries - I will be out on the road as soon as (a) the newness wears off of my husband’s new car and (b) I get my new glasses (maybe I will be able to find ones with wraparound lenses so I can see in all directions). In the meantime, I am depending on the kindness of friends and interesting taxi drivers.

Driving in Qatar is a favorite topic of conversation always! The increase in traffic when the temperature dropped, the expats returned from holiday and Ramadan was over was scary. I heard at coffee one morning that I would be really surprised as how the traffic escalated as soon as school started! Surprise is not the word – total astonishment is a better term.

When expats land in Doha and begin car shopping – bigger is better, bigger is safer and bigger is harder to park. The SUV sales that are supposedly winding down in the states show no signs of slowing here. Gas is cheap and it is always better to be looking down at other drivers when one is honking in the roundabouts than looking at huge bald truck tires six inches to the right.

There are three lanes in most roundabouts. Right hand turns (my personal favorite in the US) are made from the inside lane. Yes, you read that correctly – the driver on the inside lane is allowed to put on his right turn signal – or not – and make right hand turns across two lanes of traffic. The center lane driver is planning to pass a turn or two before he leaves the roundabout or he can click an indicator and go right whenever he suddenly realizes that is where he should be going. The center lane is not the place to be if you are not completely sure which turn you would like to make, as you need six sets of eyes to keep up with all of the sudden decisions being made around you. The right hand lane is the easiest and feels the most comfortable until you realize that you are only supposed to turn right at the very next turn from this lane so your destination options are limited.

U-turns are called backwards turns and are very common. It helps to be in the left hand turning lane and to have a car with a very tight turning radius. But that doesn’t seem to be necessary – any lane will do.

Left hand turns are interesting too! Salwa Road has two left turn lanes at one intersection and at any given time – three cars turn left – two from the properly marked turn lanes and one from the lane with the obvious arrow pointing straight. The far right lane has an exit from a shopping center just short of the intersection so drivers (always in very large autos) will pull slowly out and indicate with a flippant wave that they are going to cross over and turn left. They never make eye contact. They just go steadily on their way amid much cussing and hand waving by the other drivers. They really don’t care – they just want to turn left. So they do.

Right hand turns are not as simple as in most places. If an SUV is too far back and doesn’t want to wait – the sidewalk is always an option. Or driving up and over the sidewalk, forcing ones way into traffic on the frontage road to cut in queue and be the first to turn at the right corner. They just want to be first. Even if there is nowhere to go!

Drivers here come from all over the world and I think some are hired as drivers without the driver’s education classes required elsewhere. Some of the young men look as frightened as I am and clutch their steering wheels as they drive small pickups directly into the line of fire. Interestingly, there are thousands of the same Nissan pick up trucks with the same flame design on the sides and they all have Indian drivers that are either fearless or nuts. “Nison” (as in Nixon) is the correct pronunciation of ‘Nissan’ here. We thought there was a new make of car for a few days when a friend was talking about buying one.

People that drive here seem a little more relaxed about the driving than those of us who learned to drive somewhere that actually had traffic laws. The symbol for patience - hand extended palm up with fingers gathered is used quite often – frequently by the person edging out in front of you with so many dents in his car that you realize immediately that he doesn’t care if you run into him.

The local Qatari drivers in national dress always seem to be in a hurry but the westerners always seem the most stressed. Speed is so important in this tiny country – high-end sports cars speed along until nearing speed camera – slow for a minute so there is no flash and then fly off towards the desert.

Porsches, Lamborghinis, Aston Martins, Ferraris all have dealerships here and do quite the business. The dilemma for these beautiful cars is the speed humps – not a typo, speed bumps merely mean slow down for the real thing in a few meters – a hump is huge. Low slung cars almost have to stop to crawl over these things and many drivers simply drive up on the sidewalks to avoid them.

After a few years of running errands here in the land of the beige, I will reach a level of patience never expected. My time management skills will be totally gone as there is no sense whatsoever as to how long it will take to do anything. I will have given up all attempts at list making and will have learned to spend the afternoons reading!

First Call

Calling From Qatar is my way of avoiding long random emails to some people and no emails to others! There are so many people that I do not want to lose touch with and many people that I want to share some of the interesting things about living here. This seems like the simplest way to do it.

“Here” is Doha, Qatar, a small but incredibly energetic county in the Middle East. It is a peninsula, which extends into the Arabian Gulf directly across from Iran. It is one of the top two wealthiest countries in the world. Yes – Oil & Gas but mostly natural gas. The majority of residents are expats as the local Qataris only make up about 36% of the population. People are brought in to do every type of work. From designing and building new cities to driving construction workers to and from the various projects there are enough people brought in to make it all happen. There are faces from every country in the world here.

We are living in a villa compound with seventeen other families – no Americans. Quick comradery develops when you are all living in a compound with no known address (we carry Google maps) in the middle of Area #57. Italian, Greek, Spanish, Portuguese and even proper British English can all be heard when we are sitting out front in the late afternoon. I have begun taking Italian and Spanish lessons on Tuesday mornings. It took me a while to realize that I am the only one who has two sets of homework!

We love the food! Seasonal seems to really matter here and when something is fresh and on hand – you need to buy it because once it is all gone – it is gone until next year. The cherries that are here in June are as good if not better than the Rainier cherries in the states. They are in huge bins in the grocery and it feels a little like the old Filene sales as maids, women completely covered in black and expats all fight for a space close enough to pick out the ripest ones. I erroneously assumed that we could try some and go back later if we loved them but NOT – they were all gone in a day. When I asked if there would be more I was told to have patience that they would be back next summer as always. We have tried so many dishes but every time I look at a menu – I find something new!

The one drawback I have found is the driving. These people are insane on the roads. White lines mean nothing! Some roundabouts have new traffic signals that people don’t even notice. Flashing lights and honking horns are the norm and speed is king. I have decided that my problem is when my husband is driving – I can see the drivers behind us in the side mirror. Land Cruisers driven by men with flying headdresses appear from nowhere six inches from our rear bumper and startle me every time. I don’t scream out loud like I did on the first drive from the airport in June so it must be getting better! The paper reported yesterday that 10,000 new vehicles are added to the roads every month so watch out!!