This Week in Doha: Oman

R&R time

 

Qatar-bound Westerners trek to Oman in the way that Missourians "go to the lake."  This is Middle America-Speak for: run up to Hy-Vee for chips, hot dogs, buns, marshmallows.  Gather fishing rods, floaties, towels, waterski equipment, barbecue tools, sleeping bags.  Drive 2-4 hours (in any direction) where holiday-making ensues.

The only way out of Qatar overland is through Saudi Arabia - a complicated endeavor that requires weeks of embassy hoop-jumping, reams of paperwork, proofs of things like income, nationality, marriage.  There are limits as to how long a person may be in country, rules about with whom and how a woman may travel and many, many other considerations that make a road trip out of Qatar difficult to, well, not feasible.

So when it's vacay, git outta Dodge, needa break time (most Qatar expats and others) fly - a quick trip to Dubai, UAE or a short hop to Oman (other weekend possibilities are Bahrain and Kuwait).  Inexpensive, one hour (and less) flight to history, culture, shopping…food, fun, beach.

This trip, Bob and I did Oman, where we stayed at a "cute little place" just outside Muscat:

popular getaway location for Qatar's expats and locals
 

we stayed here

 

this is what we did: ahhhhhhh

The official national language of Oman is Arabic, just like Qatar's.  There is sun, desert, men in dish-dashas and ladies in abayas, just like in Qatar.  Money is the Omani rial and only comes in paper (ie, no coins).  There are souks stuffed with people…
 

Mutrah Souk

 

forts…  

overlooking Mutrah bay

 

interesting historical displays in front of official looking buildings…

 

seen enroute

mosques…

overlooking Corniche

camels…

beach camel ride, anyone?

and a Corniche crowded with men from (India, Nepal).
 

expansive Corniche overlooking the water between Muscat and Mutrah

Unlike Qatar, Oman features miles of beauteous rocky mountains

 

GOHJUS - but very little vegetation (wouldn't want to get lost out there) 

Also unlike Qatar, we met local people…everywhere.

"With limited oil revenues…a policy of 'Omanisation' in every aspect of the workforce is rigorously pursued…" (Oman, UAE & Arabian Peninsula, Lonely Planet, 3rd Edition, September 2010.) 

Omanis are taxi drivers, hotel maintenance staff, managers, servers, shopkeepers and more.  Many spoke English, but most seemed to prefer a slow mix of easy-to-understand colloquial Arabic.  No rapid fire, head spinning language lessons here:  "Kayf hal?" (How are you?) said the bellhop.  "Matar?" (Airport?) said the taxi driver.  And to our affirmative "aye-ee-wah, matar, shukran" (yes, airport, thank you) - nobody laughed. 

Nice.

 

 

 

Corniche Potty Break

I know it's environmentally (and politically?) correct.  It's probably more sanitary and maybe easier than paper…once you get used to it.  One expat wife said she found the spray "refreshing."  But I wonder…

How to dry off before pulling up your…well, you know. Drip dry, perhaps? Have you ever squatted over a hole waiting on an air-out? 

I search the stalls for something familiar: 

 

 

Is the wet seat a product of the previously mentioned sanitary spray or something less appealing? 

What would you do? 

I place my feet in the marked position and send up a prayer of gratitude for gym lunges.  I assure you the device is architecturally sound as everything goes straight down the hole.  Perhaps it IS more sanitary, I think. 

And then…I drop my keys. 

Back at the Pearl…there are options:

 

  

Potty, paper, spray…and a little bottom sink. 

What would YOU do?

Story of a Picture

Moments after Kimber snaps this picture (via Skype) of me basking under the warm Doha sun - as if in punishment for rubbing coveted Middle Eastern brilliance into my daughter's chilly Middle American day...a blowing, gusting sand drenched wind spits kernals of dry stuff onto my resort-style patio.  I retreat to the confines of my cozy living room where the wind - and sand - take a backseat to the sun in all its clear skied glory.  Do I go to the beach today?

Well, what would you do?

To the beach, of course.  Before I can exit the hotel's warm parking lot and step into the bright Doha afternoon, beach security stops me.  "Pass?" he says.  He wears a winter coat, hood - and a paper face mask. He doesn't know me; he's new.  I show him my room key and he waves me on.  Does he roll his eyes and shake his head? Maybe.

The hem of my cotton sundress snaps at my knees.  Hair blows in my face.  Goosebumps tickle my skin.  How can the sun be so warm when the wind is so bitter, biting cold?

Sand may be fickle, but it tells the truth when it comes to the sun.  Sand does not engage in wind's lying game. When sun is warm - so is sand.  When sun is chill, sand is cold. Sand absorbs and radiates heat, whenever heat is present.  Hot sand trumps all, even a cold, cruel wind.  And hot sand against naked toes means stinging, pinching flotsam that's whipped into the sky against its will...is forgiven.

Along the shoreline, umbrellas are pinned closed and beach chairs lie higgledy piggledy.  Tide is drawn to sea and buoys rest on the smooth wet bank.  No sun bathers.

The wind is cold but...the beckoning surf.  The glittering water.  The rolling swells. And the sun!!  Oh, the sun!

Well, what would you do?

I pull a chaise to the relative shelter of one of Doha's ever present construction barriers.  I place one towel under me and another around me.  I pull out today's Arabic lesson.  Whine away wind, I do not belong to you.  Yallah, emshee; go away.

A beach attendant approaches my little alcove.  "Tekellam Araby?" I say.

"No, I do not speak Arabic," he replies...in English.

"Enta min wain?" I persist in the "official" language no one seems to speak.

"I'm from Sri Lanka," he says. He smiles and is silent, but I hear him anyway:

Crazy American!

October 17

Bob skyped around 4pm – midnight his time.  He’d arrived safe and sound and was in his hotel room – a two bedroom suite he’ll share with a coworker for about a month.  He looked great even though he was beyond tired with a laundry list of things to do in order to be ready for his 7:30am ride to work in the morning.

Yep, right to it!  It’s all good.  He’s looking forward to seeing the facility and finding out what he’ll be doing…and where.  J

A couple of wrinkles -  the converters we sent don’t fit the sockets in his hotel, and his great, new 21^st century phone has no service (contrary to powerful reassurances from the folks at T-Mobile).  He hopes to resolve those issues tomorrow, but we may not hear from him until his phone issue is fixed and his laptop can be juiced up again.