A Made Up Place

under-tenanted at The Pearl, 2014

 

"…the number of residents here will grow on average by 7.4 percent annually in the coming years, reaching 2.5 million by 2016…"

Dohanews.co

 

If you're among the thousands of new expats expected to relocate to Qatar in the years leading up to the 2022 World Cup, here are a few things you should know:

 

1. It's KAH-tur.

 

قطر

 

Not Cutter (US), KAH-TAH (Brit) kuh-TAR (everyone else).

 

There are three letters/sounds in the classical pronunciation of the country's name : qaaf (enunciated deep in the throat)/tah (with a concave tongue)/ray (rolling r).

 

Exception: in Qatari (KAH-ta-ree) dialect qaaf is pronounced with a soft gee, as in gas, so locals refer to their own country as GUH-tur.

 

this way to "the spa"

 

2. They are not Qatari.

 

There are somewhere around a whole lot of people living in Qatar - but only 1/3 of them are bonafide, card carrying Qatari nationals. Of the remaining 2/3, most are unskilled laborers from India and Nepal or service workers from Philippines. A small percentage of the larger population are from the US, Britain, Australia and other European nations. Even shopkeepers dressed in traditional thobe and ghutra at the brand-new-made-to-look-old Souk Waqif are from somewhere else.

 

Sure, Qataris are out and about. You'll see them in malls, feel your car shake as their Land Cruisers rush past, smell their oud in elevators. And, yes, Qataris work! Not every day or regular hours. They take a lot of vacations. You'll never meet a Qatari taking orders at McD's, working the DQ drive thru or answering phones at the Ramada. But still. Fresh out of school they claim top tier positions as government school teachers, administrators, CEOS and entrepreneurs (see #3, below). Qatari law requires that a local own a minimum 51% share of every business.

 

In Qatar, there are lots of layers between the larger population and nationals, even in independent business. Unless you come to Qatar as a nanny, maid, driver or clerk, hang around Fanar Islamic Cultural Institute, get into trouble or enjoy a busy night life (see #4 below) - you may never come to know a Qatari in Qatar.

 

3. Wasta. Bias. Traffic.

 

Wasta is nepotism without stigma; specially packaged bias in a place where employment, accommodation, financial perks and social rank are already determined by nationality and race. Where a high school graduate may be absorbed into university with low expectation and flung into a high level position without experience. It's a culturally approved professional track for the young and privileged when rules already preclude attendance at government funded university beyond age 40 and foreigners may be expelled once they reach age 60.

 

Hooray for traffic, the great equalizer. No amount of wasta exempts you, it doesn't matter where you're from, the color of your skin, language you speak or how old you are. Cars, trucks, vans, buses, Land Cruiser, Toyota loll bumper to fender; nationals and expats together in endless smoky lines, late for work and play; listening to Taylor Swift on CD, blaming them (see #2, above) for their troubles.

 

wasta in action?

photo courtesy Matt Mikus

visit Matt's travel blog: postcards and playlists

 

4. Not as conservative as you think.

 

If she's local, between the ages of 25 - 50 and dressed in abaya and hijab, she likely has a college degree. She's fluent in three languages, well read and considering a new business venture. Odds are, she's travelled the world, holds a driver's license, manages a busy household in a rapidly changing environment and works too. She's thoughtful and interesting and you'll never meet her. At least not in Qatar. (See #2, above.)

 

The face of Qatar is English speaking/educated abroad/thobe-wearing/wasta employed/under-30 year old, young men.

 

In Time Magazine, they stand stoically for photos before West Bay's whacky skyline. They're a vision in white at the Qatar Tennis Open (and other celebrity events).

 

In Qatar? They're hanging out of SUVs as they circle the camel race track. Flashing Lamborghini headlights in your rearview mirror. Swerving in and out of the everywhere traffic clog. Performing motorcycle tricks in intersections as multitudes of incidental spectators idle. Escorting falcons through the souk. Creating an impassible thobe-to-thobe chain along the Pearl's boardwalk. Sliding down dunes in $60,000 USD cars.

 

Nose tapping, laughing, hand holding. In restaurants, hotels, movie theaters and, yes, wearing Western clothes, in bars. (Traditional attire - and local ladies - not allowed.)

 

(highlight added)

 

White thobe and sandals, ghutra. Male traditional attire is legitimately worn by conservative Muslims of all nationalities as a humble religious gesture. It's worn by shopkeepers and other workers to provide ambience in the souk and at special events. But if it's after 3pm, he's under 30, heavily starched ghutra is tipped at a jaunty angle and other expats are stepping aside and/or changing lanes? He's probably local.

 

have-your-pic-taken-before-a-Bedouin-tent

Souk Waqif, 2014

 

5. A made up place.

 

Less than one hundred years ago, Qataris were pearl divers in the summer, Bedouin camel and sheep farmers in the winter. Locals lived in fabric tents and porous rock huts. All of which have long since dissolved into the landscape.

 

There are no pyramids, castles, ancient mosques in Qatar. Zubarah Fort wasn't built until 1938. There's no indoor snow skiing, walk-through aquarium or Burj Khalifa.

 

What Qatar does have is a rocky coastline, dunes, Sheikh Faisal. There is evidence of ancestral participation in the Orient's purple dye industry. Living people who remember (if you're fortunate enough to meet one; see #2 above).

 

And, oh yeah, money.

 

Damien Hurst's "Miraculous Journey"

Sidra Medical and Research Center, Doha

Thanks to oil and gas income, today's Qatar-in-the-making is a new money let's-build-something! playground produced by underpaid Asian laborers held captive by the Kefala sponsorship system. In which a worker relinquishes his dignity along with his passport.

As the country hasn't been industrialized long enough to provide its own architects, engineers and skilled workers, for its reinvention it must rely upon the talents of  foreign professionals. These educated, experienced, often pushing-60 individuals are paid to design and implement infrastructure, roads, stadium projects, a multi-billion dollar downtown, zoo and possibly the world's-longest-strip-mall - a shopping shell pocked with inaccessible-due-to-construction businesses.

Thanks to money, sand is processed, water desalinated. Humid, shimmering air is recycled so interior temperatures remain arctic even in the most eyebrow sizzling weather. Under-tenanted resorts exist in places that once belonged to the sea. Elaborately decorated mansion sized villas bloom in artificially enhanced areas that once couldn't sustain life. Homes feature his'n her majlis spaces where she sips tea and nibbles sweets with the ladies while he smokes sheesha and hangs with the guys.

Thanks to money, there are highways garnished with floral displays, modern automated billboards, plazas, parks, old malls, new malls, malls-to-be. But no tourists.

 

"…We don't want people to come for a $50 room to lie on the beach all day and walk around with a backpack and shorts. These are not the type of people we're targeting. We are different from the neighbouring countries. They focus on tourism as a source of income. If (the tourism market) crashes, it makes no difference for us…"

Qatar Tourism Authority's Ahmed Abdullah Al-Nuaimi,
Reuters, August 2011

In 2014 Doha, oil and gas funded high rises and hotels stand empty. Bored clerks check facebook and play games on phones. Laborers are paid to attend world class sporting events. Doha's version of the Big Red Bus, the cheerful green and yellow, double decker DohaBus, trundles empty from Lagoona Mall to the (under construction) National Library. At night, West Bay's skyline strobes above sporadically populated party lit dhows.

 

 

Thank goodness for money! Without it, today's Qatar just wouldn't…be.

 

Expats Abroad: Spain

Bob on board

 

Expatriates are people who leave their homes to live in a new place, either temporarily or permanently. Most migrate legally, following the host country's rules and regulations.

 

Expatriate: (one who) leaves one's native country to live elsewhere…

- Merriam Webster

 

Columbus points to sea

where Ramblas meets wharf

Barcelona, Spain

 

Legal expats are subject to different regulations than those at home. Like, for example, covering from shoulders to knees even when jogging, avoiding physical (and eye) contact with members of the opposite sex, not eating or drinking in public during the holy month of Ramadan. A thoughtful Qatar expat, for example, doesn't enter religious spaces with an uncovered head or make negative comments about her host country's leadership online or, well, anywhere, ever. And when the rules concerning freedom of expression change, she renders her blog publicly inaccessible.

 

contemplating the climb

church at Tibidabo, highest point in Barcelona, Spain

 

In the US, legal expats are those who followed US law to enter the country, typically for purposes of work, school or marriage. Sometimes these intrepid travelers take knowledge home to help change whatever caused them to leave in the first place. Other times they remain stateside and pursue the process to become permanent, legal United States citizens.

 

how Antoni Gaudi (gow-DEE)

covered one building's ducts and vents

atop La Padrera, Barcelona, Spain

 

Illegal US expats sneak across the border. They work jobs, raise children, utilize health care, attend and graduate from US schools funded by government grants and, it is said, even vote! They're fast food workers who go on strike to demand that their illicitly-adopted country celebrate their home country's independence as a national holiday. They're back alley criminals, prostitutes - and top drawer straight A students, business owners.

 

Officially there are repercussions to sneaking into the United States, but a lot of people not only get away with it, but profit from the venture too. Some of these dauntless interlopers are eventually granted status as legal United States citizens.

 

"Sagrada Familia" means "Holy Family"

a church designed by Antoni Gaudi

Barcelona's ever-under-construction labor of love

 

there are funky shapes

 

fruit spires

 

wall sized doors that look like this

 

stained glass windows that alter interior color

 

and a flying Jesus

 

Bob loved it

 

In Qatar, illegal expats are usually former service employees (nannies, maids and drivers) who entered the country legally and (in a wide variety of ways) find themselves without sponsorship. Babies born to unmarried (ie, unlawful) parents are on the list of border crashers. Illegal foreigners are also, as in the US, those who sneak across the border hoping for a better life in the world's wealthiest country (per capita).

 

coed bathrooms are common in Barcelona

at the Olympic Stadium

girls use stalls on one side, boys on the other

wash up together

 

In Qatar children born to a married foreign mother and Qatari man are considered Qatari. Children born to a married Qatari woman and a foreign born man acquire the father's nationality. At this time it's not possible to obtain Qatari citizenship (thereby eligible to receive national dividends and land) except by birth.

 

the Ramblas

a crowded, touristy, no-cars, shopping zone

and the heart of Barcelona

 

In Qatar, illegal expats are not allowed to work, attend school, utilize public health care, own a car, rent or buy a home, acquire a driver's license. Illegals' educations are not subsidized by the government. Without papers, they are also unable to leave the country.

 

As a result (unlike the US), very few people aspire to be illegal expats in Qatar.

 

Free Speech on the Ramblas

Barcelona 2014

 

As legal expatriates in Qatar, we have residency permits, government health cards and driver's licenses. We utilize government medical services, buy and sell stuff, attend programs, leave and come back. We drive the speed limit, cover our arms, keep our hands and words to ourselves - and seek the silver lining.

 

Barcelona Water Tower Garden

tucked among a cluster of buildings

in the heart of the city

(Rick Steve's, Barcelona, page 144)

 

It helps to get away.

 

Barcelona from the top of the Sagrada Familia

Nativity Tower

Spain 2014

 

How to Get a Speeding Ticket in Doha

cameras placed strategically throughout Doha

photograph errant expat (and other) drivers in action

 

In America.  How to obtain a moving violation:  drive too fast.  Watch rearview mirror for black and white sedan with strobing red and white lights.  Pull to side of road, unroll window, wait.

 

Snap of door opening, closing.  Keys jangling, heels on pavement, rush of passing traffic, bitter exhaust.  Blue uniform with hat, belt and holstered weapon.  Hand on hip, officer bent at waist, stern face in window, smooth Old Spice cologne.

 

"License and registration, please."

 

Tattle tale lights flash.  Cars slow to pass.  Children point from back seats, laugh:  Speeder!

 

Pounding heart, tears.  The shame.

 

surreal, sardines-packed-in-a-can, Doha traffic

too many cars for personal attention between officers and rule breakers

 

In Qatar.  How to obtain a moving violation:  you have to look it up.

 

 Qatar Traffic Violation Website

enter your Qatari id, license plate number, establishment ID

download the phone app to view others' violations while stuck in traffic

 

In Doha, yellow and white cameras situated at intersections and along highways weed through the crush of sedans, SUVs, trucks, semis, motorcycles to photograph plate numbers and assign violations, such as:

• exceeding posted speed limit - 500 QR
• not giving adequate signals as required - 200QR
• driving a vehicle at abnormal low speed that may obstruct traffic movement without a good reason - 300QR
• motorist does not abide by the automatic traffic signals (running a red light) - 6000QR
• driving a vehicle in the wrong direction - 6000QR

Link: traffic offenses that can be settled by paying a fine.

 

Caught on Camera

Somewhere in Doha

Bob or Cindi (but probably Cindi):

 

November 9, 2013, 7:06 AM, Al Bidda (per website) or the Corniche (per agency):

"The motor vehicle's operator exceeds the maximum speed limit on the road"

 

There is no summons, notification, letter in the mail.  No flashing lights, jangling keys or holstered guns.  Nobody knocks on your door.  Errant behavior is recorded on the website and stays there until the fee is paid.  Whether you're a bad driver, in the wrong place at the wrong time or somewhere else altogether, it's possible to rack up violations and fees while living in blissful ignorance - working, shopping, taking the kids to school.

 

As long as you don't try to leave the country.

 

registered vehicle owners with unpaid violations

are stopped at the gate

 

Since the infraction is assigned to the car, it's the registered owner's responsibility to review the website for violations and pay fines.  This is a benefit to expats who lease a vehicle as the rental agency's name is attached to the car, not the driver's.  A service agent regularly checks the traffic website and emails request for payment.

 

"Kindly settle the attached traffic ticket..."

-email to Bob from Doha based car rental company, three weeks later

 

Suppose, like one of Bob's coworkers, you receive notification about a violation that ostensibly occurred on a day, place, time in which you and your car weren't present.  Nobody else drives your car.  You never speed.  There's too much traffic on that road at the stated time for anyone (except the young men in dish-dasha driving white Suburbans) to "exceed the posted limit."

 

It's Christmas and you have plans to travel.

 

You could request more information:

 

This is you, right?

Traffic Department's proof of Bob's car's violation (edited)

 

Hire a lawyer:

 

expensive and time consuming; still can't leave the country

 

Or just pay the toll - and go home (for the holidays).

 

Bob in Paris, 2013

good sport, good friend, good lookin'

Dear Expat: About Your Cleavage...

Dressed for Success, Doha Style

 

Dear Expat in the Megamart:

 

You in the bum-engorged aerobics pants, skin-tight, razor back tank, high exposure, hot pink, nipple revealing workout bra.  You with the gregarious cleavage, thong underwear, shimmying side boobs.  You leaning over your cart, breasts dangling, bare arms glistening.

 

Do you see the ladies in black abaya and sheyla, watching you from the cake mix aisle?  Their unblinking eyes follow your sashay from chips to canned corn.

 

Do you see the men in dishdasha, heads down, taking a wide berth?  How about the teen boys, eyes popping?  Or me, head shaking…

 

...as you thumb your nose at Doha's persistent plea to the from-elsewhere majority population:

 

Please cover your body from shoulders to knees.

 

Doha's Modesty Campaign

 

You're ruining it for the rest of us.  The majority who adhere to the not-law rule.  Who wear jackets, long shirts and skirts, loose pants, sweaters - even in summer's searing heat and humidity - just because our hosts asked.  Who appreciate the opportunity to live and work in this peaceful Middle Eastern place.  Who demonstrate regard for our conservative hosts through respect to their customs.

 

I didn't challenge you.  I've already heard your arguments:  It's too hot.  I'm not Muslim.  I can do what I want, wear what I want.  It's my life.  Deal with it.

 

To you, this is just one more foreign assignment; another dot on the map.  And you're busy: there's lunch with the girls, working out, getting home before the nanny arrives with the kids after school and the maid finishes cleaning the bathrooms.

 

Anyway, why should you cover up?  It's not like this is your culture.

 

This is your home, for now. But it is our home forever
(Reuters)

 

You're not the only one ignoring the request to cover up, either.  There's the teen in snug jeans and see through crop top I bumped into just a minute ago; the pair who crossed Onaiza on foot at Carmageddon's peak wearing short shorts and spaghetti straps.  There was yesterday's jogger in skin-tight togs and bra slogging through a West Bay job site at 7:00am.  And those tourist-types in sundresses and low cut blouses at the mall.

 

Sure, some busy expat women throw an abaya over their culturally inappropriate clothing to stay cool and respectful at the same time, but your sense of self-worth is too high for that.  Wearing the abaya aligns you with the oppressed, subservient, exploited local woman.

 

You've heard that those ladies cover by choice and as a sign of respect - to God, family, self.  That they earn college degrees, work as teachers, educators, administrators; in politics, law, architecture, engineering and business.  That they read, write, travel, manage households, raise children, comment on blogs and post updates to facebook and twitter. 

 

You've heard, too, that Muslims are gentle, modest, kind, hospitable and welcoming.

 

And that they're all terrorists.

 

The truth is you don't actually know any Muslims.  From Doha or anywhere else.  Unless you count that one covered lady who walked you through the Islamic Cultural Center when you arrived two years ago.  Or when you secretly snapped photos of local women dressed casually at the Ladies' Coffee (btw, phones and cameras are no longer allowed in the room).

 

You wear what you want, do what you want, no matter what anyone says or thinks - that's a sign of independence and strength, right?

 

Anyway, since you're the stranger here…invited to the desert to plant their high-rises, dig out their oil, forge their roads and develop their infrastructure - they should be respectful of your culture.

Yeah.

They should fork out perks like Christian churches, nightclubs, stores with merchandise you recognize and food chains that serve hamburgers, pizza and queso.  You should have a Starbucks, Dairy Queen and how about a liquor store that sells pork, never mind that it's haraam.  Sports events, celebrities, symphony, Film Festival, annual circus - all for your comfort and amusement.  And don't forget, a salary that accommodates villa-style housing, gym membership, tuition for the kids at world class schools, cell phone, internet, trips, holidays and more.

Wait, they already do that.

 

Psh, whatev.  It's not like the law says you have to cover up.  Qatar isn't Saudi Arabia, ya know.  There's no Hia'a wandering Qatari streets with sticks ready to swat you over an exposed ankle.  Nobody in a uniform pointing hefty fines at your cleavage and knees.  Nobody dragging you off to the calaboosh for refusing to wear hijab and abaya.  Not today. Nope.

 

Today it's just a humble request:

 

Please cover your body from shoulders to knees.

 

We'd all appreciate it.

 

Sincerely,

Just Another Expat

Patience Please Doha Driver

The sign says:

REMEMBER!!

Your family is waiting for you.

 

 

Rite of Passage: Car Accident in Doha

Smashed in Doha

 

You are braked in traffic gridlock on Doha's heavily travelled, construction absorbed Corniche.  Your car jolts forward.  At the same moment, you hear sounds like foil wrapped potato chips crunched into a microphone.

 

You are not hurt.

 

You put the car in park.  Say a few choice words.  Grab your phone.  Open the door.

 

everywhere lines of red and white barriers

 

Gravel rattles to the ground, poured from a six-wheel dump truck behind the red and white construction barrier inches away.  The air is thick with humidity, exhaust, smoke.  Horns bleat, people shout, lights flash.  Cars, trucks and vans circle around your parked car to drive on the shoulder of the road. You smile and wave (might as well).

 

A lady in hijab and abaya sits at the wheel of the sedan stopped behind you.  She and her male passenger face forward, unmoving.  Her car's front end is crushed.  Your SUV's bumper is scraped silver and white.

 

You knock on the sedan's driver's side window.  After a pause the window slides down.  Her eyes: brown.

 

"Would you like fries with that?"  No, you don't say it.  That would be silly.  Instead:

 

Are you okay?  Do you know what to do now?

 

and:

We agree that this was your fault, right?

 

She nods.  Her passenger grabs a backpack, climbs a construction barrier and walks away.

 

"He goes to airport,"  she says.  "I think he will be late."

 

She's from Somalia and has a lovely Arabic name.  But, "I do not speak Arabic," she says.  She calls your phone so you have one another's numbers.

 

What you know: 

• you must wait for the police or go together to the traffic department
• you must do this immediately
• you must obtain paperwork from the traffic department
• if you wait long enough the police will come

It's not an unavoidable, necessary lifetime rite of passage like puberty, gray hair or wrinkles.  Being in a car accident in Doha is an event more like appendicitis, gall stones or divorce - something that can happen (or not, if you're lucky).  It's the car that swerves into your lane and stops, the SUV riding your bumper, little Toyota truck in front of you loaded with unsecured rebar and 2x4s.  It's a degree earned in spite; merit achieved contrary to your efforts.

 

little truck, loaded with stuff

 

You call Bob, talk to Ben (who has a Master's degree in Doha Car Accidents), dial the rental car place, check your facebook.  (Just kidding about that last one.)

 

Standing beside you, Somalia smiles, listens, nods.

 

Two white-shirt wearing police officers arrive in a blue and white cruiser.  Policeman #1 motions to the traffic and construction.  "You must move.  Go to police station."  He rattles instructions to Somalia in Arabic.  "You follow her," he says.  He points to Somalia.

 

I hesitate - she doesn't speak Arabic - but Somalia is already in her car and White Shirt motions frantically for you to go too.

 

You dip into a gravel gap so Somalia can take the lead.  You pull into traffic behind her.  Cars part like Moses and the Red Sea as she passes you slowly, driving in the middle of the road.  She rotates toward the red and white fence, misses it, jerks the wheel and arcs across the street.  Speeding up, she takes a roundabout in a wide three-lane circle, swerves around a corner, jumps a curb.  Something bright falls off her car.

 

You follow at a safe distance as Somalia sweeps wildly through traffic for three heart stopping minutes. She reaches a red light, three full lanes braked 10 cars back.  She slams into a taxi, causing it to hurtle into a third car.  Her airbag deploys.  There is smoke.

 

You park in the street, rush to Somalia's car.  Her seat is pressed back and she is near laying down, both hands over her face.  She's crying, but physically seems okay.  A big, burly man in a long white gallabea-like robe and yellow construction vest speaks reassuring words to her in Arabic.  He's from Sudan.

 

"She doesn't speak Arabic," you say.

 

"You know her?"

 

"Five minutes ago, she hit me too."

 

He laughs.

 

Yes, of course - it's not funny.  But no one in any of the cars is hurt.  So, it's okay: he laughs, you laugh.

 

Three green ambulances arrive.  Somalia is lifted onto a gurney and carried away. You do not see her again.

 

Official red suburbans and blue and white vans create a no-pass zone around the accident site.  Two dark uniformed policemen tap noses in the traditional greeting.  A white-shirt wearing officer writes driver's license, plate and phone numbers on a plain sheet of paper.  You give your numbers in Arabic.

 

White shirt pauses over the page, as if matching cars to information.  He turns to you, says, "Why are you here?"

 

Sudan intervenes to explain your presence in Arabic in a jolly, storytelling manner.  White shirt presses his hat back, rolls his eyes, shakes his head.

 

The next day you incorrectly visit the Immigration Office, Passport Bureau and Traffic Headquarters before landing at the correct location:  a small, single story building behind the Main Traffic Department.  Here, there is plenty of parking and a line of friendly officials available to help you.  To facilitate the process, at Ben's suggestion, you've written "My Side of the Story" in Arabic.  You give the handwritten essay to an agent who reads it without comment.

 

"What happened" in Arabic

(Please ignore errors, just like you did here.)

 

The official types on his computer.  Presses a button.  Gives you a crisp, unbound two page Police Report:  your graduation papers.

 

Mabrook!  Congratulations!  You pass.

This Week in Doha: Fasting, Garangao-ween, Unlawful Sex

Fanar offered non-Muslim expats three opportunities this week to share a "traditional" iftar experience (breaking the day's Ramadan fast by eating together) in a program titled, "Come Fast With Us."  Fasting before the meal was not required.  To enhance the experience, I decided to fast anyway.

 

Fanar: Qatar Islamic Cultural Center

 

Every year Muslims all over the world abstain from food and drink (this includes water) for the 30 days of Ramadan, from dawn (about 3:30am) to sundown (about 6:30pm).  All Muslims…excepting the insane or children under the age of 10 years.  Those who are sick, travelling, pregnant, nursing or menstruating are not expected to fast, but must reschedule the missed experience for a later date:  "a day for a day."  People who are old or chronically ill feed a needy person in lieu of fasting.

 

Ramadan occurs during the month of the Islamic ("Hijri") calendar when it is believed that the Holy Quran was revealed to the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH: this means "peace be upon him" and is the English equivalent of what follows the Prophet's - PBUH - name or title).  Each year the date Ramadan begins changes slightly as the rhythm of the Islamic calendar is affected by the moon.

 

Fasting is one of the Five Pillars of Islam.  It is a gift to God, opportunity for prayer, introspection, self-reflection, empathy. If you're Muslim, fasting earns you reward in the afterlife.

 

The Five Pillars of Islam:

1.  Faith:  the Shahada

2.  Prayer

3.  Zakat:  charitable giving

4.  Fasting

5.  Pilgrimage: the Hajj

Islamicity.com

 

If you're non-Muslim, expect a body cleansing, soul freeing, emotion enhancing experience. Do not expect to earn points toward the (Islamic) Heaven.

 

How to begin fasting:

1) rise before dawn (unless you're the mom, sister, aunt or other able bodied female, in which case you get up even earlier to cook…or if you're like many young Muslims who stayed up all night feasting/playing, you would make your way home to gather with the fam and eat some more before the new fast begins).
2) enjoy a pre-fast meal called "Suhoor."  The meal may consist of anything you like except alcohol or pork, which are forbidden in Islam.
3) express your intention to fast: "I intend to fast today."
4) stop eating and drinking.
5) pray.

 

At dawn, approximately an hour and a half before sunrise, the muezzin chants the first Adhan, called "Fajr."  All eating and drinking ceases about 5 minutes before the call.

 

At 3:15am I drank a bottle of water, said a prayer.  Catholics, like Muslims, have standardized prayers - the Lord's Prayer, Hail Mary, Angel of God, etc.  But when I talk to God (especially at 3am) it's usually in the Baptist way, ie, a variation of this:

 

Dear God, Bless my babies, Chris, Katie and Kimberly, Krissy and Killian.  Bring them happiness, peace, joy, love.  Send angels to guide their decisions, guard their hearts and keep them safe.  Thank you for Amazing Bob, his wisdom, kindness and all the sacrifices he makes for our family.  Thank you for Mom and Dad and Kitty and Kay and Charles and Bernie and  (insert your name here).  Help us to love one other.  Let me make a difference in someone's life today.  Amen.

 

I won't detail the rigors of my first Islamic fast.  Let's just say:  it was difficult.

 

I read.  I napped.  I (tried to) write.  I watched "Dora the Explorer" in Arabic and baked brownies for the next day's Secret Ramadan Lunch.

 

The no-food part wasn't that big a deal for me.  The no-liquid part, however, was a moment-to-moment challenge.

 

(In the interest of full disclosure:  because of the extreme heat, I'd made plans to stay inside most of the day, which is not usual for me.  While temps soared to a scalding 105F, it was not humid and there was a rare, God-gifted breeze, so I was able to sit on the balcony.  I did not sleep the day away.  But I cannot claim to have done my "regular" thing while fasting.)

 

By mid-afternoon, I couldn't type straight anymore and my eyes had stopped working.  I was exhausted, dull, cranky and sad.  But I was no longer hungry or thirsty.  (Kind of like when you stop feeling cold just before you freeze to death?)

 

With the end of my first fast in sight, I joined a group of other non-Muslims at Fanar as Brother Domenic, a bearded Irish convert with Leprechaun-pink cheeks, twinkling eyes and an impish grin outlined Islam, explained Ramadan and detailed how fasting works.

 

Brother Domenic:  "When is orange juice like alcohol?" Answer: "During daytime hours in Ramadan."

 

The group separated by gender.  In the ladies' area, we sat on the floor and enjoyed the communion of (vacuum packed) dates and (bottled) water and a traditional rice, lamb and salad feast.  We learned more about Islam from an eloquent, fun and funny niqab-wearing convert from Virginia, USA, who speaks fluent Egyptian and Gulf dialects - and was the only participating Arabic speaker.  (To my knowledge there were no Qataris - or Arabs - present.)  Each guest received a tee shirt and a book about Ramadan.

 

tee shirt

 

Later, I ate a bowl of popcorn, nibbled a few cookies and fell asleep watching "Conan" (the talk show host , not the Barbarian).  I didn't feel the need to stay up all night eating, but then…I wasn't going to be fasting the next day (or the next or the next or the…) either.

 

Garangao

 

photo ops galore

 (camera trouble: please forgive pic quality!)

 

Once upon a time, the full moon on 14 Ramadan (the day that marks the celebration's half way point) meant children dressed in traditional costumes going door to door to collect treats and money from family and friends.  Today, tribes are spread throughout the city and unrelated multi-ethnic strangers hunker next door.  Instead of the traditional door to door-ing, parents and children gather at specified locations and, in the same way that America's Halloween has become "Trunk or Treat," children move from station to station showing off costumes in exchange for bags of candies and nuts.  (Click here to read more about Garangao.)

 

"Cauldron" of goodies outside a restaurant reinforces Halloween analogy

(same disclaimer about photo quality)

 

Garangao-ween (without the devils, demons, zombies and fairies)?

 

Garangao is a Gulf tradition.

 

Unlawful Sex

 

In March, 2013, a 24-year old Norwegian businesswoman from Doha is raped by a coworker while at a business meeting in Dubai.  She reports the assault and is charged with having unlawful sex, making a false statement and illegal consumption of alcohol.  She is sentenced to 16 months in prison.

 

Her (alleged) assailant, who is married, is convicted of public intoxication and having sex outside of marriage.  He receives 13 months in prison.

 

This week, following a world-wide outcry against the treatment and sentencing of the victim, all charges against the young woman are dropped.  She is pardoned by royal decree.

 

Since there is no longer a case, all charges against the (alleged) rapist are also dropped.

 

"While Dubai has a reputation as a cosmopolitan city that boasts Western influences, where visitors can drink at bars and restaurants and unmarried couples can share hotel rooms, the country adheres to Islamic laws and traditions.

 

Having sex outside of marriage and public consumption of alcohol are both violations of the law in the United Arab Emirates."

cnn.com

 

The young woman and her (alleged) attacker are both fired from their jobs in Doha for "drinking alcohol at a staff conference that resulted in trouble with the police." cnn.com
 

Peace, Love and a New Emir

"Put it on facebook!  Put it on twitter!  So they will know

 about God's Peace and Love."***

 

He's at all the events in his painted truck:  No Racism: Peace and Love In God We Trust.

 

Qatari flags wave from antennae, silver posts, rear view mirrors.  The bed is open and speakers line the sides.  The sound of male voices and traditional drums boom, merge and dance in the air.  Spades flank the back.  There is a trophy cup, globe, painted hearts, flag stickers, a circle with a line through it: No Racism.

 

Everything is maroon and white like the Qatari flag.

 

"The nine points are symbolic of Qatar as the ninth member of the 'reconciled Emirates' of the Arabian Gulf…the white…a symbol of peace…the maroon a reminder of the wars in which Qatar defended itself."

Qatar Kaleidoscope, Doha, Qatar: Marhaba-Qatar, 2009.

 

Happiness, joy, surprise!  Today is a National Holiday:  Qatar has a new Emir.

 

He's 33 year old Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani; (former) Emir Hamad bin Khalifa al Thani's fourth son.  Emir Tamim was appointed Crown Prince and Heir Apparent in 2003 when his older brother, Sheikh Jassim bin Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani abdicated the position.  Both Tamim and Jassim are the sons of Sheikha Moza bint Nasser al Missnad, the (former) emir's second wife - a beloved local personality and internationally recognized leader.

 

For a month or more, there were rumors that Emir Hamad was preparing to abdicate in favor of younger leadership.  But…really?  In a region where authority is wielded and strength asserted - until death?  Abdicate after only 18 years?  Give up power…when you don't have to?

 

C'mon.  Nobody does that.  Not in the Middle East.  Not 100 years ago, not today, not ever.

 

Except for Emir Hamad.  Who did exactly just that.

 

For two days, locals are called to appear at the Amiri Diwan to perform an oath of allegiance to the country's new leader.  In Islam the practice is called bayah (بيعة).  The custom differs by culture and region.

 

With regard to how the allegiance should be given to the leader, in the case of men it is done in word and in deed, namely with a handshake. In the case of women, it is done by word only. This is proven in the ahaadeeth which speak of how allegiance was given to the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him).

Islam QA

 
By 10am it's 109F and steaming, broiling. Bob and I are expat paparazzi incognito, in jogging togs and tennis shoes.  Out for a stroll along the Corniche. We don't expect to make it all the way to the Amiri Diwan.  We expect to be invited to return to our vehicle, one hand waving us back the way we came, the other poised over a holster.

 

On the street side of the Corniche, red suburbans, carrying gun wielding representatives of the Emiri Guard stream past, park along the curb.  Officers in blue and white police cruisers appear to check identification before allowing cars through the narrow street leading to the Amiri Diwan.

On the bay side of the Corniche, official looking black boats patrol the glittering blue water.

 

The sky is clean, clear, fireball hot.  A dry, torrid wind burns tender skin - kind of like standing too close to an open oven.  A fair haired Norwegian with painfully rosy cheeks stops us, points to his chapped arms, says, "excuse me, do you have any protection I can borrow?"

  

Earlier that morning Emir Hamad's abdication was broadcast live on Al Jazeera:

 

"…The time has come to open a new page in the journey of our nation that would have a new generation carry the responsibilities (armed) with their innovative ideas and active energies.

 

Our young people have proved in recent years that they are people of strength and resoluteness who comprehend the spirit of their time and fully understand its necessities while keeping up with what is new. Furthermore, they contribute with their ideas through the process of innovation.

 

And fit for this occasion is what Ali bin Abi Taleb said: 'Teach your children the best of what you have been taught for they have been created for a time different than yours…'"

Reuters

 

TV footage shows a sea of men in white, gold garnished dress thobes greeting (now) Sheikh Hamad, welcoming (now) Emir Tamim.  Tapping noses twice in the traditional hello, kissing shoulders and cheeks, tight hugs, loose hugs, shaking hands.

 

Gathered to hear Emir Hamad speak (Al Jazeera screen shot)

 

 

traditional male greeting: two light nose taps (Al Jazeera screen shot)

 

Emir Tamim and his father, former Emir Hamad (Al Jazeera screen shot)

 

We do not see any women.  Perhaps they were off camera.

 

On the Corniche, we wander undisturbed all the way to the Amiri Diwan.  We take photos, relax in the shade.  We are not berated or turned back.  The only one stopped, in fact, is the Peace and Love guy, who is asked to move along.

 

Seems he's blocking traffic.

 

 

Oh, and that sword?  Heavy.  Sharp.  Real.

 

___

*approx 1:20 Bob's job site to the left

*approx 1:30 look for Bob seeking shade

*at end police arrive