Is Qatar Safe?

 

The second most common question we're asked (after Qatar? Where's that?):

 

Is it safe?

 

After all, battle lights from Saudi Arabia, Syria, Iraq, Iran and Afghanistan sparkle over Qatar like a halo. The Taliban Five are housed here, those guys the US President controversially freed in exchange for a single American Marine. The five live in our resort "neighborhood," purportedly housed in a guarded, castle-like compound at The Pearl.

 

no matter your size, there's a thobe for you

display at The Pearl

 

The single land route out of Qatar is through Saudi Arabia. Permission to make the trip requires months of paperwork and is usually only given to drive straight through. A woman must be accompanied by her mahram and covered head to toe, even in the car.

 

There is the questionable treatment of migrant workers, Matthew and Grace Hwang, the unending parade of waste water trucks that disappear into the desert and return stocked with "potable liquid."

 

Plus, they wear thobes and abayas in Qatar, live behind forbidding ten foot walls, speak Arabic. And they're Muslim!

 

 

While it's true that there are cultural and ideological differences that sometimes cause conflict, if you read my blog, you already know that Islam is a peaceful religion. And Qataris are, in a quiet, non attention seeking way - Peacemakers.

 

the Peace and Love Guy dances on his truck

in front of the Amiri Diwan

 

In Egypt, Israel, Palestine, Syria and with the Taliban (who, it's said, have offices in Doha) Qatari leadership quietly broker discussions to further peaceful resolutions to end the cycles of violence. In taking the Taliban Five off the road, after the US President negotiated their release, Qatar assures the men's physical non-involvement in conflict. As the first Middle Eastern country to host the World Cup (in 2022, in case you've been living under a rock), they're breaking new ground in communication and understanding.

 

Qatar has opened its doors to an expat majority who don't dress, look, eat, play, worship - and sometimes don't even respect - their culture, religion and way of life. Yet, before the roads, water lines and electrical networks had traversed the peninsula, there was McDonalds, Dairy Queen, Chili's and TGI Friday's. A new modern mall goes in, it seems, every week.

 

There are Christian churches in Doha. And, even though it's haraam in Islam there is a liquor store that sells pork.

 

 

Sure, we feel welcome. But do we feel safe? We respect the culture, follow the rules, keep a low profile. And, yes, we feel safe.

 

giant pitcher on the Corniche

hospitality symbol

 

More safe than I feel right now, in fact, sleeping in my bed in America under a US government owned, 40 foot tall, 12 foot diameter dead tree. Paperwork, photos and bids have long been submitted requesting removal of the tree. Meanwhile, its 20 foot partner recently fell, taking out a neighbor's back fence.

 

 

Please Mister President, cut down your tree so that I might return to the Middle East where I will feel safe.

My First Qatari Wedding

a sweet little girl, henna, a shiny, sequined dress

 

"The Arab dance is like walking," said my new friend, when there was a break in the music.  She raised an arm shoulder high, wrist loose, fingers down, lifted a foot, took a step.  "You see? Easy."

 

In the middle of the room, ladies danced on a raised platform.  Like a model's runway it spanned nearly the length of the space, meeting the stage in the middle to form a "T."  On the stage high above the platform was a long white divan covered in luxurious white, gold and red pillows, flanked by columns and surrounded by roses.  Later, the bride would sit here.  Much later, the groom would join her.

 

Hips rolled, shoulders dipped, arms moved like ribbons on boneless bodies as ladies slowly circled the runway.  Thrumming, drumming, sinuous, sensual Middle Eastern style music resounded through speakers from the live (male) band tucked into a hidden space behind the stage.

 

Maybe walking was the first dancing lesson, but the rest of it?  Definitely.  Not.  Easy.

 

Some women wear abaya and sheyla to marriage events, but

traditionally each celebration is an opportunity to see and be seen

guests dress up hair, makeup, clothing

photo above offers a Very Conservative Sample of Qatari wedding attire

 

The hall was wide, bright and surrounded by a flowing white curtain to protect ladies' privacy.  Crystal chandeliers hung from a sky high ceiling.  Attendants in brilliant white and gold served sweets on luminous gilded trays.  Round tables decorated in white and yellow featured tall candles and vibrant bouquets of rich red roses.

 

Lines of velvet covered chairs flanked the runway.  Grandmothers, mothers, aunts, matchmakers and other relatives occupied these seats.  To enjoy the dancing - but also to consider the young, unmarried guests as prospective wives for sons, nephews, brothers.  Velvet seat relatives ascended the runway with stacks of QR notes which they shuffled into the air above a dancer's head.  Money poured like rain over the platform.

 

Special servers collected the notes in brown bags.  The money would go to the band.

 

my beautiful friends, Nancy and Ania

world travelling, multi-lingual mother-daughter pair

masha allah!

 

Here's what I've learned about Qatari weddings (from presentations at Fanar and personal experience):

 

There is no celibacy in Islam

Prophet Mohammed (PBUH)

 

Choosing a Partner

Most Qatari marriages today - nearly 100% - are arranged, preferably within the same tribe.  This is to keep money and property in-house, but also to protect the bride.  It's easier to know a man's true character when he's already a member of the same family.  Traditionally young couples spend the first week after the wedding with the bride's mother before moving into a space in the groom's family home.  Nowadays many young couples eventually move into their own, separate, house.

 

As Qatari life adjusts to meet demands of a changing world, more young men and women meet and choose prospective partners themselves - through work, school, friendships.  The arrangement process, however, remains the same - mothers, aunts and matchmakers consult, father's/guardian's approval is obtained.  The couple talk on the phone, email, meet (always with family members present) and the young man is allowed to see the young woman uncovered in a chaperoned setting.  If everyone agrees - including the young couple, each of whom may decline - the contract is signed.

 

The Contract

This is when marriage conditions are spelled out - like the bride's desire to finish school, work after marriage or be the only wife.  Potential disagreements are aired, discussed, agreed upon - like a pre-marriage counselling session with legal implications.

 

The mahr - a kind of dowry - is offered by the groom's family.  The money is a gift to the bride payable before the wedding - and usually (in Qatari society) spent on the wedding.

 

After the contract is signed, the man and woman are officially married.  Consummation of the union does not occur until after the actual ceremony.  A change of heart after the contract is signed requires a divorce.

 

Engagement

The engagement may last days, months or even (in the case of children promised to one another, for example) years.  There is an announcement party where the couple's intention is declared and sometimes a celebration called walimah, a banquet specifically for the families to become acquainted.

 

Weddings

There are two weddings: one for the women and one for the men.  Traditionally, the men's party takes place in tents outside of town and involves sword dancing, nose tapping, food and good hospitality.  Generally, it is an open event and invitation is by word of mouth.  To learn more about Qatari weddings from a man's perspective, read this wonderful 5-part account by Qatari blogger Osama Alassiry.

 

The ladies' wedding begins with the engagement party and includes a henna night as well as the actual wedding.  All ladies' parties are private events, usually held in a closed hotel space.  Printed invitations are issued and phones and cameras are taken at the door.

 

Other Stuff

Qataris are known for their hospitality and a wedding celebration is the ultimate opportunity to honor one another with food, nonalcoholic beverages, sweets, perfume and other gifts.  The cost of a Qatari wedding today may exceed 1 million Qatari Riyal.  Both the bride's and groom's families contribute to expenses.

 

gift bags: so pretty!

 

inside gift bags: harakat!

(Qatari dialect for wow!)

 

Sometime after 10pm, attendants pulled back a curtain and the bride appeared under a white arch.  She wore a modern, glittering white gown with a wide skirt and train.  Gems in her dress reflected the silver jewels in her hair, ears and around her neck.

 

So lovely:  masha allah.

 

Sweet bukhoor wafted about the room with as the bride made slow progress toward the steps leading to the runway.  Lit candles glowed along the platform, marked the stage, shimmered at each table.

 

There was hugging and kissing and whirling clouds of money.  Professional photographers took photos and video.  Sweets were offered on golden trays by gold attired servers.  A female singer performed inside the hall - and money filled the air - 1, 5, 10QR notes and American bills too.

 

At an unseen signal sometime after 11pm, ladies donned abayas and sheylas.  Arch curtains opened and the groom appeared in dress robes and flanked by his father, other male relatives and three young boys with swords.  The boys performed a sword dance as the group moved slowly up the stairs, across the runway and toward the stage where the bride waited, hidden now behind a screen.

 

More hugging and kissing, photos, video and a hurricane of QR notes.  The groom's male relatives and friends (those not allowed to see the bride) left the room.  The screen was removed.  The bride stood.  The groom moved to stand beside her and his relatives circled the couple.  There was hugging and kissing, photos, video and more raining money.

 

The groom joined his bride on the divan.  They held hands as money swirled around them.

 

A fantastic buffet dinner was served after midnight.

 

pretty table display

 

Around 1am, servers returned with bukhoor and bottles of sweet perfume, signaling time for the bride and groom to depart.  Together the young couple stood, walked slowly hand in hand across the stage, down the runway, through the curtain and disappeared under the arch.

 

We took a turn on the runway after the party was over, walk-dancing from one end to the other, waving arms and swinging hips.

 

No one tossed money.  Masha allah!

Six Days in Doha with Chris

The Riding a Camel Pic

 

What if you had just a few days in a Middle Eastern country - where traffic buzzes the city like bees searching for a hive, winter means beach sun and flowers, strange things circle the sky and jumping off a pile of sand into another pile of sand is a national pastime?

 

a guy (it's always a guy), a parachute-like thing, a great big, round fan

 

Oh sure, you'd hang with your way cool 'rents

 

working out at the Singing Dunes

not hot, windy or dry enough for music this trip

great for running and climbing

 

top it off with a cold one

at the Inland Sea

 

You'd tour a mosque and cultural center, study customs and religion, watch as a muezzin in traditional attire stands before a microphone, recites a beautiful, inspiring Adhan, call to prayer.  You'd jog a resort, wander a beach, jump into a dune

 

Wheeeeee!

 

Wheeee times three!

 

You'd view artifacts from all over the Middle East at the Museum of Islamic Art and walk the length and breadth of the fantastic Museum park.  Where there are outstanding views of West Bay, hills, a strange obelisk like thing, and cool, glittering water.  You'd ride a dhow around Doha's fabulous West Bay...

 

 

...drink sweet hospitality tea, eat shwarma, hummus, pita, kofta, babaganoush, awesome delicious rice.  You'd absorb the unique smells, textures and flavors (fats, sugars, carbs) and you'd not be sorry.  Not one tiny, little bit.

 

 

 

Not sorry

 

Because later - of course - you'd drink sweet Herbalife tea and sweat it all out at the gym.

 

Plus, there's the Inland Sea where you'd (watch Mom) swim under a gleaming sun in the warm appearing, but deceptively cold Gulf spanning the distance between Qatar and Saudi Arabia...

 

blue, beautiful

Inland Sea in January 2014

 

...dune bashing and sand golf (for Mary Ann and Gary)

 

This is the fairway

 

This is the sand trap

Yes, the sand course has a sand trap

aka "bunker" 

 

falcons, giant pearls, massive teapots

 

 

 

Qatari night life, camel races, unmarked desert bound Catholic church - and treasures to be found at the updated-to-look-old, modern, antique souq.

 

at the souq

 

Lucky, happy people - to get a great, marvelous, wondrous, whirlwind, fantastic six days in Doha with our beautiful, smart, fantastic son!

 

Video snippets from one wondrous Doha day, chosen by the camera

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

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

On Family, Foundations and Being Together

Family Friday at Aspire Park, Doha

 

I want to tell you about Family Friday in Doha: when related groups picnic at the park, hang at Starbucks, walk the Corniche, pray, eat and laugh together. When malls restrict men from wandering shops alone and eating in certain areas of a restaurant unless accompanied by a woman.

 

Family Friday at Costa Coffee

 

I want to outline how an individual's name traces lineage for generations - and how signatures give away secrets.  How young couples live with the man's family and title babies after dad's parents.  That a married woman keeps her name to conserve her own tribal line.

 

That dad's word may be law but businessmen cancel meetings to drive mom to the mall:

 

 

(Sniff. I love you, Mom.)

 

I want to tell you about Qatari hospitality: if your hostess pours you 1/3 cup of tea it means you should stay for more (a filled glass means it's time to go).  Your hostess waits nearby ready to refill the moment your cup is empty.  She'll continue to offer more until you shake your cup gently from side to side.  When your visit is over, she coats you in sweet, perfumey, smoke-like incense and waits by the door until you're safely inside your car.

 

I want to outline how Qatari faith is a lifestyle that strengthens families.  And Qatari hospitality is a principle that builds relationships and reinforces foundations.

 

But right now all I can think about is this:

 

Katie and Kimberly - now in Doha!

 

And this:

Chris, Krissy and Killian - faraway in Kansas City.

 

No matter how customs, habits and traditions differ, here's one way families are the same no matter where you're from:  it's hard to be separated from the people you love most. And there's nothing better than being together.

 

We miss you, Chris.

 

Family Lake Vacation c. 2009