Why I'm Not Posting a Blog Today, Redux

I'm proud to say I've posted a blog every week for more than a year.  In the home stretch now before I return to Doha with a surprise in tote, I don't want to ruin this blogging streak over a little homegrown under-the-weather.  So - to tide you over and hold my place, here are some pictures of a recent holiday visit to Kansas City, Missouri, USA's wonderful Aquarium.

 

A marvelous, magical journey

 

 

With a little mermaid

 

 

Sitting pretty in her underwater bubble

 

 

Small fingers, gentle touches

 

 

 

Special moments

 

 

Time very soon to return to the desert!

 

 

Thanks for reading!

Five Moments, Six Pictures

 

Moment One:

 

Cars stream across the road in front of me - traffic moves just one direction at a time in Doha.  When the light facing the flood turns red, a wall of wheels forms a blockade across the intersection.  Now the light is green for those headed left into the barricade.  Vehicles nose forward, plugging holes in the sea of traffic.  The light changes again - and those headed the other direction surge into the morass.  The road is now flush with vans, trucks, sedans, SUVs and exhaust saturated air.  An orchestra of honking horns, squealing brakes, humming engines serenades idling travelers.

 

At the heart of the clog, an SUV's door opens and a man in white emerges.  He adjusts his headdress, smooths his dishdasha and steps boldly into the swell of bleating steel.  He points and cars back up.  He waves and cars move forward.  His raised arms and billowing robe are shadowed by the sun shining through the passage he creates.  He reenters his SUV and disappears into the gap, trailing cars like animals in the Ark.

 

My light turns green and I slide through the wall too.

 

Bird Market, Souq Waqif

"What, me escape?  Nyahh."

 

Moment Two:

 

"There are no wild parrots in Doha," says a shopkeeper at the bird market.  But I've seen them up close:  long green tail feathers, round heads, orange beaks.

 

Evening near Bob's job site; me and my camera comb the darkening sky.  The birds travel at dusk, headed toward the souq.  Dots on the horizon, flapping wings.  Feathers pull close to strong bodies as birds swoop high and fast over the ground.  First a small flock speeds over the sandy lot.  A set of two follow, then three together and one alone.  Like a gang protecting the slower members, a final company zips by.  I blink and they're gone.

 

Too fast for pictures.

 

Katie and Kimber outside Museum of Islamic Art, 2012

not related to anything in this blog, I just like this pic

 

Moment Three:

 

The musky smell of Bukhoor wraps me in a cloud of sweet.  My hostess heats coals in the chalice-like device.  She adds a perfume square and a dark mist rises from the vessel's foil lined hollow.  She places the receptacle under my shirt, holds it there until smoke drifts through the fibers of my blouse.  She removes the chalice, drawing a fragrant circle around me, over my hair.

 

It's the traditional goodbye after my first ever visit to a Qatari home.  Here there is sweet tea in tiny porcelain cups, smooth mango juice, spinach in pita, Omani candy and tasty Arabic cookies.  There is beauty: marble stairs, wood covered columns, crystal chandeliers, down comforters, fiber wall hangings.  There is home: shoes at the door, pillows on the floor, phone calls, family photos, great conversation and children who greet strangers with kisses.

 

sitting area at Weil Cornell Medical College, Doha

 

Moment Four:

 

Behind the wall, in the front yard of the beautifully appointed, villa style home, there is a garden, a bamboo majlis, an outdoor bathroom - and a multi-story chicken coop for roosters and hens.  There is a Little Tykes slide and swing set for the children.  There is a special place for grandma to sit while she feeds the birds and watches her babies play.

 

clouds in Doha: rare sight

 

Moment Five:

 

On the floor, knees crossed and elbows down, I play with the kids in a Qatari home.  Six year old Maryam draws a feel-insaan (elephant person) and the Arabic alphabet in pencil.  She is learning to read and write Arabic, like me, in the same way an American kindergartener studies the ABC's.

 

All around us, ladies chatter.  Tiny porcelain cups clink against plates.  On a wall, an Arab game show broadcasts on a wide, flat screen tv.

 

Maryam sits tall, says in perfect English, "I will test you."  She holds the paper, drawing side to her chest, says, "Say the letters."

 

I neglect to include kaaf.  When it's her turn, she forgets Saad, Daad.

 

"Arabic is called the language of Daad," says Maryam's mother.  "Because no other language anywhere in the world has this letter."

 

Maryam and I practice until we each recite the letters perfectly.

 

psh, easy

Namat/Namoot: are you alive or dead?

Sometimes life in Doha is the Flyboard World Championship happening in the bay outside our window.

 

It's gymnastics with water and we've got ringside seats, no driving involved.  Ahhhhhh

 

But most of the time life in Doha is:  Fender kissing, headlight flashing Land Cruisers driven by men in white headdress (blinking lights is Qatari dialect for "please get out of my way."  The less polite version involves the possibility of burned rubber and smashed bumpers - but most expats just…move).

 

Everyday Doha is helicopters thrumming the air in search of the worst traffic tie-ups.  Motorcycles rumbling through haphazard spaces between vehicles.  Taxis hopping sidewalks.  Blocked intersections.  Construction.  It's also three hour wash cycles.  Bananas that shift from green to brown overnight.  Arabic pronunciation mistakes:

 

Rajool means man; rijil means leg:  "The leg said…"

 

Qalb means heart and kelb means dog:  "My husband works at the Dog of Doha project."

 

Namat means grown but namoot means die:  "My children are namat."

 

For me, everyday Doha means 3-5 hours in the car.  True, a portion of that time involves taking Bob to work and picking him up (in return for spousal access to Bob's company-provided vehicle).

 

at his desk 6 days/week

Bob worked 7 days in a row last week, adding up to 13 turns about the office by sleep-in day

 

This week I also work.  Plus, there is running the Corniche, walking the Pearl, Arabic class, homework, reading, writing and staying up late to watch Conan O'Brien (he makes me laugh).  There is church, missing our kids, email, skype, errands and lunch out.

 

Busy is our "Doha usual."  Some weeks, like this one, are busier.  Outtakes:

 

Childhood in Qatar

 

 

Fanar Family Majlis* presentation about childhood games in pre-oil Qatar, including an early Qatari activity for boys called, Bo Sbeit, are you alive or dead?:

 

Player #1 lays face down.  Other players shovel sand over the back of first player's head calling out, "Bo Sbeit, are you alive or dead?"  If there is a response, more sand is shoveled and the call repeated, until such time that player #1 no longer responds.  Other players stop ladling and wait for buried player #1 to emerge (which, en sha'allah he does).  Everyone gets a turn.  Boy buried longest (without, it is presumed, spoiling the game by going namoot, ie, dying) wins.

 

This game offered practice for pearling wherein divers descended to great depths with only a nose clip and lung capacity to keep them from drowning.  It was vital that young boys destined for a career at sea develop the ability to hold their breath for long periods.

 

According to the presenter, today's Qatari boys pretty much spend their extracurricular time playing computer games.

 

Basketball in a Skirt - Qatari high school PE class.

 

I join 14 sixteen and seventeen year old girls wearing ankle length shift style uniforms and dress shoes as they line up in a tile floored gym.  We do neck stretches and arm circles.  We place hands on hips and bend to the side.  We touch our toes (well - I touch mine).  We dribble (low air) balls in a small square.  We toss/kick/roll balls to the next girl in line.

 

Teacher is a young, energetic Egyptian.  She wears a purple sweat suit with pink running shoes, speaks very little English - and it is her very first day at the school.  She is Middle Eastern hospitable but curious about my participation in her class since my mission concerns language - Arabic for me, English for the students.  (The "why" is never made clear.)  Later, we chat in Arabic and share pictures from our phones - her beautiful 18 month old daughter, my babies and grandbabies.

 

Children's Books in Qatar

 

 

Fran Gillespie has lived in Qatar for nearly 30 years.  She's a former teacher, freelance writer and journalist who's published hundreds of articles about the country.  This week her first books for young children, published locally, are released.  This is a new endeavor for Qatar and a Very Big Deal!  Bob and I spend extra time lost in construction detours so that I might own sets of Fran's wonderful books in English and Arabic.  Click here to read more about Fran's books.

 

Park Bazaar/Flea Market

 

 

On the grounds of the Museum of Islamic Art, locals and others gather under tents to sell stuff.  There are garage-sale-like tables stacked with Michael Crichton novels; craft booths with quilted tee shirts and stained glass items; shop tents merchandising pashminas and jellabias (a pretty abaya-but-not-an-abaya-style gown worn for dress up occasions).  Children's clothes, games, toys - corn dogs and coca cola.

 

Museum of Islamic Art designed by architect I.M. Pei

It's nifty to watch the shadows play

 

I don't buy anything.  I do: wander the grounds and take pictures.

 

Souk

 

 

This week's wandering includes spousal together time, language practice, pearl shopping with an energetic, continent hopping friend and coffee with a world travelling, couch surfing American who speaks three languages (not counting Arabic which she's studying).  She not only knows Qataris, but has attended weddings and other events - and once was flagged down on the highway by a leather mask wearing Qatari woman who needed a ride home.

 

Of course, a souk visit isn't complete without a plateful of Halloumi (FOR BERNIE, who asked):

 

THIS is Halloumi cheese, fried to a krispy, salty wondrousness.

Makes your mouth water, dunnit?

 

THIS is what you do with Halloumi, just before…

 

THIS.  Wrap 'er up and eat.

Yum.

 

Homemaker Trials

 

We live in a resort with weekly cleaning, laundry service, Chocolate Bar downstairs and terrace overlooking world class athletic events (see above).  But it's not all fun and games.  (Bob worked 13 days in a row recently, and…) it took hours of fume-filled scrubbing to transform our cushy resort shower from housekeeping's clean-enough:

 

into this:

 

When a toxic odor invades our building, maintenance says, "Something died in here."  Drains are inspected.  Ladders placed.  Trash receptacles emptied.  Toilets flushed and sinks filled.  Fans blow stench through open windows.  Holes are cut into ceilings.

 

 

After all the cutting, moving, drilling, hammering, we pour water into "p" traps - and the smell goes away.  Huh.

 

In The Things We Missed Category - Red Bull Flugtag

 

This curious competition sponsored by Red Bull involves teams of people and weeks of effort to manufacture "flying machines" - which are then flown off a short pier straight into the water.  Longest airborne creation wins.

 

It is presumed that pilots are namat, but I'm not completely sure about that.  Every machine definitely ends up - namoot.

 

namoot

 

*Majlis:  special meeting place where single gender groups chat, eat, drink, hang.  Fanar's "family majlis" is open to both men and women; programs are presented by men.

 

Children's Books about Qatar!

Children's literacy is an important topic in Qatar.  Efforts to increase kids' reading skills include mobile and school libraries, contests, clubs, children's television programs.  But - not a lot of local interest books.

 

According to a survey on reading habits in the Arab world conducted by Yahoo! Maktoob Research in 2011, almost 30% of people below 25 years in the Arab world never read. People aged between 46 and 50 were the most frequent readers, followed by those aged between 36 and 45, which makes up 25% of the population.  The youth read less than any other segment of society…

Gulf Times article

 

Limited quantities of popular American children's books are available for purchase in Qatar.  But children's books about Qatar for Qatar?  Rare.  Until now.  I'm thrilled to own both English and Arabic language sets of a wonderful new series of books by Frances Gillespie:

 

Qatar Nature Explorer

by Frances Gillespie

 

"There are about twelve species of dragonfly in Qatar.  They and their smaller relatives, the damselflies, are fierce hunters.  Both have bright colours and similarly shaped bodies, but you can easily tell them apart…" (ages 6+)

From Insects and Arachnids of Qatar, by Frances Gillespie

 

Sets in English and Arabic include six hardcover editions: Birds of Qatar, Insects and Arachnids of Qatar, Mammals of Qatar, Plants of Qatar, Reptiles and Amphibians of Qatar, Sea and Shore Life of Qatar.  Copies of Qatar Nature Explorer will soon be available for purchase in bookstores throughout the country and online.  To acquire your own copies now, contact Fran by email: frandavid@designcoqatar.com (email address provided with permission).

I'm also a happy owner of this gem written for the Middle School aged crowd:

 

Hidden in the Sands, Uncovering Qatar's Past

by Frances Gillespie and Faisal Abdulla al-Naimi

 

"The first book of its kind to be published for a general readership from youngsters upwards, Hidden in the Sands: Uncovering Qatar's Past is the fascinating, fun and educational story of Qatar's heritage and the exciting discoveries being made by archaeologists…" (ages 11+)

Read/Listen/Learn/Order your own copy: HiddenInTheSands.com

 

Frances Gillespie is a British writer and journalist and has lived in Qatar for nearly 30 years.  Before moving to Doha, she taught English in England and Nigeria.  She's a former Chairman of the Qatar Natural History Group and has travelled from one end of the country to the other.  Fran has written hundreds of articles for local and international publications in many countries, including Qatar, USA, UK, UAE, Lebanon.  Her best-selling books, Discovering Qatar and Common Birds of Qatar are well known in Qatar.
 

Run to the Naked Beach

Henna for Eid

 

"You're so cute," says a student.  "Are you Muslim?"

 

I shake my head.  "I'm Christian."

 

"Oh," she says, nodding.  "Not Muslim - yet."

 

Four walls, windows, a smart board, white board, projector.  Student desks in five rows, four deep.  Dark eyed teenage girls in ankle length, shift style uniforms.  I sit on the teacher's table facing the class, legs dangling.

 

At the Madrasa al Thanawiya al Binaat (secondary school for girls) I'd already participated in a science lab (broadly speaking), audited science and English classes and sipped tea in the teachers' lounge.  I'd wandered the building with a special education instructor and chatted boardroom style with group after group of high school aged local girls.

 

Today I would be a substitute Homeroom and Physical Education teacher (apologies to actual US PE teacher, Bernie).  Sort of.

 

Some of my Arabic children's books

 

Qataris are a minority in Qatar and Arabic is not spoken on the streets or in the shops.  The majority of expats don't study the language because there's so little opportunity to use it.  I persist because I like the language and people (and perhaps also out of a compulsive need to finish-what-I-start, no matter how impossible seeming).  I supplement my studies by reading Arabic children's books, learning Arabic nursery rhymes, speaking with Arabs (when found) - and visiting Qatari government schools (where allowed).

 

The gym is closed in the (real) teacher's absence and there are no curriculum notes.

 

"Speak English with them," says the principal.  She smiles.  "Make them bi-lingual."

 

Oh, right.  Mafee mushkilla.  No problem.

 

My escort is a sunny and enthusiastic Egyptian English teacher wearing bright blue eye shadow.  "You girls," she says, in Arabic.  "You are all so sleepy."  She moves to the closed classroom door, pounds on it with both fists.  "You are like, 'let me out of here'!"

 

Laughter.  Students sit higher in seats.

 

"What sports do you play?" I ask.  L'boon ay riyada hini?

 

"Basketball, volleyball, football…"  Smiles.  "With the feet.  Not the American football with hands."

 

"Do you run?" I ask.

 

"Of course.  We wear long pants and tee shirts and run in the gym."

 

"People don't run on the street in Qatar," I say.

 

"No, but you can walk at the Mall or Aspire Park and you can run around the Pearl to the naked beach."

 

Naked beach?  MY beach?  I laugh.

 

The young Qatari shakes her head.  Not funny.  "We call it that because people wear very few clothes there."

 

Oh.

 

Conversation is a rapid-fire mix of standard and dialectical Arabic and colloquial English.

 

They want to know:

 

Do you live in a compound in America?  Do students wear uniforms to school?  Do you have pets?  How old are your children?  Are they boys or girls?  Tell me about your grandchildren?  Have you been to Boston?  Will you go shopping at Villagio with me?  Do you know Adele?  (Sings:)  "Someone Like You…"

 

I smile.  "Will you teach me a Qatari children's song?"

 

A student writes:

 

"mama jabat baby

baby helloo sagheer"

 

"It says, Mama comes with a baby; baby is small and cute.  We sing this when a new baby comes home."

 

"Do you have rhymes?  Silly fun songs?"

 

Of course!  "Twinkle, twinkle little star…Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall...Teddy Bear, Teddy Bear…"

 

"Our nursery rhymes are from America, Lebanon, Egypt and other countries," a student says.

 

"And television," says Teacher.

 

The students sing popular American and Arabic music in angelic soprano and rich alto voices, complete with Middle Eastern trills and runs.

 

I offer Baa Baa Black Sheep, Have You Any Wool…?

 

The bell rings and Teacher and I sing (although I only know the first part) a popular Egyptian children's song:

 Mama Zamanha Gaya

 

 

Mama zamanha gaya gaya baedeh shiwaya gayba al'ab wa hagat gayba maha shanta fiha wezza wa bata bi t'mel quack quack quack quack quack   arfel wad el esmo "Adel" gah doctor waamleh eh? eh? eh? laa regleh bao zayel fatal bas shewaya gowa eneh leh? Leh? rah nidiloh ho'na kbira aref edal el ho'na leh?   Leh? Leh? Ma bieshrabsh el laban el sobh we kol eshabo dehko alah ha ha ha! W hoa men yomha shereb w byekbar wetrabalo aadal fi ideh.

Mama is coming She is almost here She is bringing toys and gifts She's also got a box Inside there's a duck That goes: Quack quack quack quack quack.   Do you know the kid named "Adel" And what the doctor did to him? What? What? He found him all tired And looked inside his eyes. Why? Why? He's going to give him a big shot. Do you know why he gave him a shot? Why Why? He doesn't drink milk in the morning And all his friends laugh. Ha Ha Ha! And since that day he drinks milk And grows up And has muscles in his arms.

 

Fat in Doha

Sports Day fruit bar

In Doha, beards and neck scarves camouflage double chins.  Abayas and thobes hide protruding bellies, wobbly arms and wide back ends.  A niqabat wears tight clothes under her robe to remind herself not to overeat.

mafee mushkilla - no problem!  Weight reduction surgeries are free for Qataris at government funded Hamad Medical Center.  And card toting expats (like Bob and me) pay only 5,000 Qatari Riyal (approximately $1,400 USD).
 

 
Hamad performs 70-100 weight reduction surgeries each month, 85 percent of those on Qatari women.  There are 2000 people on waiting lists lasting 6 months to 1 year.  The youngest patient at HMC was a 13-year old boy who lost nearly 60kg (132 pounds):  "he had become obese only because his parents gave him too much to eat." (The Peninsula.)
 

Fat in Doha by the numbers:

• 30 percent of the Qatari population is overweight
• 28 percent of Qatari children are overweight
• 50 percent of Qatari boys between 12-17 years old have BMI* between 22 and 36
• 20.2 percent of the overall adult population suffers from diabetes
• 4th highest rate of diabetes in the world
• 2nd highest rate of diabetes in the GCC

The Peninsula

 

Individuals who don't want to wait for surgery travel to other countries or go to private local hospitals where the procedure can cost as much as 50,000 Qatari Riyal (approximately $13,000 USD).  Al Ahli Hospital performs 80 to 100 weight loss surgeries per month, most on women ages 15-40 years old who are preparing for marriage or having difficulty becoming pregnant.

 

"In our society men would like to marry slim women.  For some women obesity is a hindrance to getting pregnant."

-Dr Abdul Azim A W Hussain, Senior Consultant Surgeon, Medical Director and Director of General Surgery Department at Al Ahli Hospital

 

Fat in Doha is not just a Qatari issue.  And western expats in tight jeans and snug tops with popping buttons do not necessarily intend disrespect.  Sometimes it's just a Middle Eastern flu known as, I-moved-to-Doha-and-now-I'm-fat.

 

It's not food's fault

 

Doha's "VLCC" teaches more than 250 people a day (80 percent are Qatari women) how to manage weight issues through nutrition, diet and exercise.  Grocery stores sell crisp apples from France, crunchy cucumbers from Saudi Arabia, Hillshire Farms' deli thin oven roasted turkey breast and the very same frozen vegetables we pick up stateside.  Restaurants serve halal grilled chicken salad and low fat vegetarian pizza.

 

And the whole "you gotta drink the sugary tea and eat the fried-to-juicy sweets or offend your Middle Eastern host" thing?  Doesn't apply when expat/local interactions are rare, nonexistent or with modern Arabs (who only eat like that at home, behind those 10 foot high walls where, btw, YOU are not invited).

 

Marhaban (welcome)?

Don't blame exercise

 

The Walk the Mall guy
 drinks water

It's true that under construction Doha is not a walking city.  There is no (safe) jogging route that extends from one end of town to the other.  Plus, traffic is so dense that our 6-mile job site commute can take more than an hour to drive - one way.  Factor in a few torturous round trips to the grocery store, work, class, social events - and that's a lot of muscle-atrophying, brain melting, energy-sapping, butt-widening time in traffic.

No worries - chances are there's a work out facility close by.

 

Gyms in malls, hotels and every tower at The Pearl.  Sporting clubs.  Sport Day.  Weight loss centers.  Joggers pound the boardwalk under our balcony, clog the Corniche, dot Aspire Park.  All over town, billboards promote fitness.  Step into Health Magazine offers weight management support and fitness tips.  The Walk the Mall program features a "perfect workout, alongside controlled temperatures; it provides a clean and safe environment to exercise."

Join up and you'll get a free pedometer too!

 

The AWOL workout in between

 

"But, Cindi, how do you manage?"

-a non-Western friend when she learned that I don't have a maid

 

What's missing: mow yard.  Weed, hoe, till, plant garden.  Collect trash, sort closet, sweep garage, spray foundation.  Change oil, wash car, tickle baby, climb jungle gym.  Chase neighborhood kid, walk around the block.

 

You know, everyday life stuff; chores and personal responsibility kinds of things.  Car, yard and household maintenance tasks.  Unclog drain, dust, vacuum, move furniture.  Pick up Carrefour display your kid knocked down, bus table at the food court.  Push grocery cart, load van, change baby's diaper while cleaning house, fixing dinner, doing laundry and taking a shower.

 

You see, in Doha, there's someone to do that.

 

A "tea boy" to prepare, deliver, collect and clean up coffee/tea/water.

 

A maid (nanny) to cook, clean, make the bed, prepare kids' lunches at home and carry bags, purse, planner, cell phone while remaining three steps behind you at the mall.

 

A nanny (maid) to push strollers, herd toddlers, oversee activity in Chili's upstairs play area (while Mom and Dad eat downstairs).

 

A driver to wait - sometimes for hours - by a sparkly, just washed sedan, van or Suburban in case you feel the urge to go…wherever.

 

A guy - leaning on that railing over there, waiting, waiting, waiting- to do whatever you ask.

 

In Qatar, these jobs are filled by individuals from Asian countries who are rarely, if ever, fat.
 

 

sweeping up during Sports Day

 Consider, for example, the physical requirements for taking out the trash:  lift 5-20 pounds.  As weight is carried up and down stairs, in and out of rooms, arm and leg muscles contract and relax, feet move from heel to toe and back again.  Balance and coordination skills are utilized to lift bag without spilling (at which point workout ensues for sweeping, vacuuming, mopping muscles).  Employ arm, calf, thigh, shoulder, core and back to relocate waste to curb.

 

Other benefits to a good health prescription that includes what some might consider everyday chores include:  humility, discipline, organization, pride in one's work and appreciation for the efforts of others.

 

Because whether in health, marriage, school, business or taking out the trash, the real reward is in the finishing.  And there are some things that money just can't buy.

 

"I think it's very important that the authorities consider this as a disease and provide insurance cover."

-Dr. Hussain

 
____

*BMI: Body Mass Index measures a person's body shape using an individual's mass and height:

BMI less than 18.5: Underweight

                  18.5-25: Normal Range

                     25-30: Overweight

                  over 31: Obese

-Wikipedia

 

Resources:

Saleem, Fazeena. "Slimming through Surgery." The Peninsula, Doha, Qatar 14 Sep. 2013: Home 1-2

The Sweet Epidemic (website)

International Diabetes Federation

On Missing Eyebrows (and other Doha realities)

Missing Eyebrows

 

The well put together local woman sports perfectly shaped, beautifully manicured, smooth, dark, thick, salon tended designer eyebrows.  She covers her skin with abaya and sheyla, and stays indoors when it's hot.

 

Expats wog, wander and hang at the beach where the only thing warmer than the water is the scalding white sand.  The respectful foreign guest covers from shoulders to knees, minimum, and protects remaining exposed areas with sunscreen 45.  But in a place where temperatures regularly exceed 120 muggy "real feel" degrees, roasted skin and sun bleached hair, including eyebrows, happens.

 

I paint the missing color in.

 

 

But I don't pluck:

 

With regard to dyeing the eyebrows or a part of them with a blonde colour or a colour similar to that of the skin, there is nothing wrong with this, as was stated in a fatwa issued by our Shaykh 'Abd al-'Azeez ibn 'Abd-Allaah ibn Baaz (may Allaah have mercy on him and raise his status). He also stated in a fatwa that it is permissible to remove hair growing between the eyebrows because this is not part of them, but he stated that it is not permissible to trim the eyebrows if they are not troublesome or causing harm.

islam-qa

 

Bananas go from green to yellow overnight

 

grass green yesterday

 

In Doha, hard, green, just bought bananas are soft and yellow by morning, banana bread ready in three short days.  If anyone you know likes a banana a day to replenish minerals lost after climbing 12 flights to the sky on a sunny, muggy, hot-air-pummeled Doha jobsite…buy a bunch!  But just 3- 4 at a time.

 

You say: "Shukran" she says: "You're Welcome"

 

There is no bookstore at Qatar University.  No game day tee shirts in Arabic, school pens, mugs, water bottles.  Looking for an Arabic language tee shirt to take home to the fam?  Good luck - because it's all English in Doha.

 

Cashiers, sackers, managers and stockers, service and salespeople at Carrefour, H&M and Zara, Asian cleaning crews, strangers on the street, hawkers at the souq, the covered lady in the bread aisle (she's not necessarily Arab):  there are three times more expats than locals in Doha and they all wake up expecting to spend the day in English.  There are a few phrases every nationality seems to understand and an Arab busy thinking in English appreciates: "shukran" (thank you), "ma'a salama" (good bye) and "wayn al hammam?" (where's the bathroom).  But - expect the response to be in English, no matter where the queried person is from.

 

Afternoon Siesta

 

There is morning, where office clerks file, take calls, fill orders…shops are open and it's possible to get business done.  Then there is Doha afternoon:

 

Katie and Kimber attempt to shop the souq one afternoon

(if there were crickets, they'd be chirping)

 

At 1pm, an unsuspecting reader (me) is asked to leave the Qatar National Library.  A mall bookstore closes and the clerk waits for shoppers (also me) to notice.  All over the city, workers rush home to eat, sleep, pray, sip tea, pet the falcon.  This is family time, when non-worker night-living people are (finally) out of bed and worker bee types break.

 

Hey, it's doggone hot in the afternoon (see above).

 

Some (Middle Eastern flexible) time around 4pm, shops unlock, libraries and bookstores reopen.  Locals parade through souq shops and Arabic is heard on the street.  Fast moving Suburbans flash lights in rearview mirrors, teenage boys chase one another through traffic in Porsches and Camaros, traffic snarls around fender benders...and worse.

 

We tend to stay home at night, wrapped in fuzzy blankets, watching Conan (O'Brien).  We don't hear a lot of Arabic this way (see above), but it does keep us alive.

 

Shoes

 

Sports Day, abaya, children, sand

silver shoes, henna

purty shoes a must

 

There is Drinking in Doha (but not at The Pearl)

 

Once upon a time there was alcohol at The Pearl.  Every night a live band played to sellout crowds at the restaurant below our balcony and it was standing room only at the billiards and sports bar beside the terrace pool.

 

Then "something happened": an "incident" involving an expat, too much drink and an outdoor space.

 

*Snap* no more likker at The Pearl.

 

Today in the evenings, a scattering of tourists and locals wander the first curve of the Pearl's boardwalk where lonely salesmen and women (check facebook, send email, play games on phones and ipads) inside gleaming upscale shops selling $1,000 dresses and $700 shoes.

 

The rest of the resort is quiet.  Security guards wander empty boardwalks under tarp covered, unfinished towers that circle the bay.  Nights, Bob and I wog in the darkness beside docked yachts as Simon and Garfunkel's "Bridge Over Troubled Water" pours from speakers tucked in the palm trees.

 

Margaritas are available at international hotels in West Bay or the airport and mix (and other stuff) may be purchased with a license at the country's likker establishment.  But there is no more drinking (shoppers, diners, buyers) at The Pearl.

 

Threshold Pools

 

Inside Doha is cold:  freezer-chill Suburbans drop moms wearing ski pants at the mall where babies in snowsuits enjoy ice cream cones at indoor amusement parks.  Expats in sweats and double socks huddle in fuzzy blankets and sip hot cocoa while warming hands over steamy dinners.  Water transforms to ice on kitchen counters.

 

I might be exaggerating - a little - about the ice cubes...but it's true that if you spend much time indoors in Doha it's easy to forget just how hot it is "out there."  Where pudding air shimmers over a charcoal and barbecue pavement.  Heat melts the soles of tennis shoes, burns up generators, fries car batteries, sears nose hair, bleaches eyebrows.

 

And moisture fogs glass, transforms into liquid that rolls down the sides of buildings, collects in moat-worthy puddles at thresholds.  (Wear shoes, step wide…)

 

fogged glasses, fogged camera

Oh the Hawtness

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