Charles Hedrick Birthday and Poetry Month: Ode to the Mundane

Charles and Peggy Hedrick (and me)

 

"The most effective poems are those in which the poet is sharing an experience in heightened language…objective of poetry is to be understood…the author's meaning, however, does not control the poem once it is published. At that point it belongs to the reader…"
- Charles Hedrick

 

Charles Hedrick has a PhD in Religious Studies from California's Claremont Graduate School. He's an author, pastor, army chaplain, professor and linguaphile who's appeared on tv, consulted for films, worked archaeological digs and travelled the world where he's "hobb-nobbed with some near celebrities." His resume is so long it's properly called a Curriculum Vitae and gets its own web space. His books and articles cover a variety of thoughtful topics, including God, the Bible, spirits, church, religions and much more. To learn about Charlie and his fifty plus years of doctoral theological linguistic authoring travel and rabble rousing check out his blog and website:

 

Visit Charlie's blog at http://blog.charleshedrick.com

Go to Charlie's website at http://www.charleshedrick.com

 

This great man is also my dad and April is his Very Important Birthday month. As all Charlie ever wants for his special day are socks and poems and I'm too far away to pony up the argyles - I've posted April's blogs as 80-word poems in his honor. This is the last of four entries. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I've been challenged by it - phew, poems are hard!

 

Happy birthday Dad!

 

Doha's Expat Wife Life

 

Ode to the Mundane**

(Song of an Expat Wife)

 

Woebegone endeavors,

Deported bureaucrat:

lift weed tote cart walk; here

there's someone to do that.

 

Thou vanquished commonplace,

Exquisite everyday.

What thy presence giveth,

absence taketh away.

 

Unbiased taskmaster,

O virtuous mundane.

Parts once winsome mighty,

now jiggle sag complain.

 

Ordinary petty,

prosaic humdrum life.

Pedestrian plain tasks

elude this expat wife.

 

Concealed behind this hedge,

no capricious whimsy.

Hiding from helpers who'd

whisk my humdrum from me.

 

Truant common chores plus

sedentary gnome, in

languorous malfeasance,

carries groceries home.

 

 

**I don't speak for all expat wives, many of whom find a way to maintain muscle tone without benefit of the great and glorious everyday mundane. In fact, some expat women don't miss scouring, scrubbing, mowing, weeding, or sticky-papering-the-cabinets at all. Like, for example, those who travel with children or work regular jobs while living abroad. Plus, even if everyday tasks existed here in Doha, once traffic years were factored in even the most ambitious spouse-on-duty wouldn't have time to complete them. (Doha traffic is the real reason that God invented maids and nannies...but that's another blog for another day.)

 

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

Now Pretend You're a Horse

Imagine Field Day, the office picnic and a hundred corporate team-building events rolled into one giant activity.  Now implement this activity across the entire country...and you have Sport Day in Qatar.

 

On Sport Day, normally closed stadiums, arenas, athletic facilities are open.  Activities abound for participant families, kids or just-the-ladies.  Opportunities abound, too, for gate crashing, sight seeing, picture taking non-participants (like us).

 

What we saw: rock climbing, ball playing, beach combing, a rousing session of "now pretend you're a horse."

 

kids line up for the opportunity to jump like a horse (with assistance) in the Al Shaqab arena

 

Sport Day is the brainchild of HH Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani, the Deputy Emir and Heir Apparent of Qatar who, in Emiri Decree No. 80, set aside Tuesday the second week of February each year for sport. Government and private offices are closed. Gyms across the country are legislated open and free to the public "…to allow them practicing sport and gain further knowledge on sport culture." (http://www.olympic.qa/en/NewsCenter/Pages/Qatar-Celebrates-National-Sports-Day-.aspx)

 

Employees of private companies (like Bob and his coworkers) receive letters encouraging participation in the athletic pursuit of their choice.

Employees of public companies receive a list of events in which participation is expected.

In order to celebrate Sport Day with activity I run 6 miles; Bob plays golf and watches the KSU (versus somebody) basketball game via slingbox at 4am at Therese's.

 

Yes: 4am.

 

(After Bob's nap) we discover a new (to us) beach where UDC employees play cricket and do sumo wrestling in the sand.

 

just…awesome

 

We walk the length of Katara Beach where a mix of companies sponsor picnics, rides in swan-shaped paddle boats, sailboat races.

 

 

We tour Education City where Qatar Foundation employees and their families bowl, play table tennis and chess and ride ponies in the architecturally amazing Al Shaqab Equestrian Center.

 

curving roofs, sloping handrails, electronic doors that open at angles

 

There is running, walking, soccer, baseball, volleyball, dodge ball, Badminton, Yoga, Zumba and Frisbee.  Basketball, football, ping pong, bicycling, tennis, handball, karate, tug of war, carriage rides, free flights up a water spout. 

 

 

A few events are open to the public (advance registration required), but most are exclusively for the sponsoring company's employees.

So, no, we didn't get to play pony.

Still, since it's a national holiday, everyone gets the day off.

Except, of course, for this guy:

 

And this guy:

 

rag used to dust handrails

 

Ahhh, but that's a different blog.

 

camera on a timer outside Al Shaqab

 

Why Do Qatari Men Touch Noses?

Watch this funny video from Iranian-American comedian Maz Jobrani for the answer:

 

  

I know, I know - I promised:  a blog every Friday, no matter what.  But today…I'm just too tired.  After a (busy, but fun) week of 9-hour and an 11-hour shifts with students at Weill Cornell Medical College.  A week of early mornings, hurried shopping, midnight laundry.

 

A week of language classes missed.

 

A week of sunshine lost.

 

I'm befuddled in English, confused in Arabic, mixed up in Khaleeji, Masri, FusHa.

 

There are the usual distractions muddling my horizon - half marathon training after a long setback.  Missing family, faraway car troubles, taxes due, FAFSAs to complete…five babies I haven't seen in way. too. long.

 

And new distractions like Bob's guys-go-golf trip to ABU DHABI this weekend (clicker to myself! Snacks and sweatpants in front of the tv!) and deciding if I should run tomorrow's inaugural "Doha Marathon" along the Corniche - just advertised in yesterday's paper.

 

If I were blogging today I might write about stuff in the news…for example how all women (teachers, administrators, support staff) were suddenly banned from working in Independent Boys' Schools (ie, Qatari public schools). "For fear that (young boys) may start imitating their behavior or mannerisms."  (Doha News Link)

 

Or about Sheikha Moza's nanny training school where "the goal of the academy (is to) protect children from other cultures that diffuse into the society through Asian nannies in particular." (Doha News Link)

Or maybe I'd tell you about red suburbans and motorcycles and drivers with guns who park in the middle of roundabouts, blocking/clogging roads, so whomever-high-up can get from here to there unimpeded.  And how it used to be interesting to watch the long line of black cars stream past and wonder, who-might-that-be?  But now when I see those speeding flashes of red…I whip the car around and consider how wide a circle I'll have to make to avoid the inevitable traffic backup. 
 

 

unrelated palm trees pic

 

Nope, I'm just not up to blogging today. Instead I'm gonna watch another funny video, drink some coffee and…wait for the sun.

Five Favorite Doha Somethings

In honor of the anniversary of Bob's first year in Doha (October 16, although he didn't actually arrive until nearly October 18) here are five of my favorite somethings about the country:

 

The People

 

Family Day at the park

 

It's hard to meet Qataris.  Women cover with niqab.  Locals live in walled compounds, rest in the  mornings, and do what they do in the afternoon, evening and overnight.  Women and men (officially) don't mix so I won't be able to tell you much about the men.

 

But the women?  The few I've met in a personal setting are smart, kind, hard-working, interested and interesting. They work in education, politics, travel and family…and roll their eyes at the Western notion that Men Make Them Cover.  I like them.

 

Seventy years ago Qatar was a vast expanse of sparsely populated land with Bedouins meeting seaside for summer pearl diving and doing the camel and goat raising thing in the winter.  Drinking water was shipped in from Bahrain.  The country's first schools weren't built until the 1950s.  Oil and gas was discovered in 1939 but took ten years to produce since the British were busy with WWII.  Even then, the people didn't share in the wealth until Emir Hamad Bin Khalifa Al Thani came to power in 1995.

 

That's not even twenty years ago! Qatar hasn't had time to produce its own experienced architects, engineers, contractors, lawyers…there are no local professional mentors and internships, as we (ie, Americans) know them.  Rules are inconsistent because Qataris are still figuring out what works.  Some say that the under-30 generation has been handed too much too soon too fast - and that subbing out the lowest level jobs (ie, starting their kids out at the top of the food chain) hurts the country in the long run. 

 

Yet, somehow, in under one generation Qataris have gone from this:

 

my photo taken of a museum video, early pearl diving and fishing in Doha

 

to this:

 

West Bay from the Pearl's beach today

 

I think that's pretty amazing.

 

Call to Prayer

 

There's a saying: the family that prays together stays together. What about a whole country of people worshipping side by side?

 

Once upon a time the muezzin climbed to the top of the minaret to announce prayer. Today, a select few who've learned the recitation rules called Tajweed intone from a microphone inside the mosque, broadcast to the city through speakers in the minaret.  Sometimes individuals recite from boats, sitting cross-legged in a park, standing alone on a street.  Prayer times are determined by the sun and moon, but the moment the muezzin steps up or the individual begins varies slightly.  The result is a sonorous, peaceful sort of musical round that coats the city five times a day.  I always stop to listen.

 

minaret from inside the Grand Mosque

 

West Bay at Night

 

No worries over the light bill here.  Empty buildings and those under construction are lit too. It's doggone purty.

 

West Bay at night via Cindi's little camera

 

Corniche

 

A green-lined boardwalk that circles the water overlooking lighthouse Fanar, funky cool Islamic Museum, step pyramid Sheraton Hotel and Palm Tree Island with its one lonely Eucalyptus.  Where dates hang in heavy bunches from palm trees and dhows wait for passengers.  It's a scenic, popular, marked 6000-meter run/walk that spans West Bay and leads into downtown.  Ladies in abaya wearing red adidas stroll alongside Europeans in shorts and tank tops.  Children ride bikes, pull wagons and toss birdseed for flocks of pigeons.  Awesome.

 

Plus, if you park close to the Sheraton, there's free internet.  :)

 

 

Winter

 

While folks in my homeland (Missouri, USA) toss ice-melt on the driveway, crank up the heater and haul out the snow shovel, we're waking up to Spring breezes, California beach sun and endless (constantly tended) rows of flowers.  Survive July and August - and, okay, September…and, yeah, most of October…winter is the payoff.

 

But the best thing about Doha in the Winter?  When these two endure the two day journey (again, soon!) to give me a holiday squeeze:

 

Christmas 2011 in Doha wit' me gurls: happiness redux very soon!

On 86% Humidity

When desert air is humid:

  

 

1.  Slog, don't jog.

2.  Cover your knees and shoulders (remember you're in Doha).

3.  Bring water, duh.

4.  Expect to sweat (wear inappropriate absorbent attire under tee).

5.  Sunglasses necessary.

6.  Carry a towel.

 

Because it's not just "hot."  It's not just "humid."  It's breathing melted cheese while jogging underwater inside a sauna.  It's a Phoenix, Arizona summer cuddled up to a Riverside, California smog alert.  Really, you shouldn't be outside at all when the air is this thick.  A few things about 86% humidity: 

• air is heavy, tangible, thick, wet:  99 fahrenheit with humidity equals 128 "real feel" degrees
 
• water blankets the city, shrouds the skyline, fills lungs
 
• moisture streaks windows, waterfalls to pavement, creates moats
 
• soaked cotton glues to skin, burps when tugged
 
• air pudding coats lung lining like cake batter in a bowl...complicates breathing
 
• slippery skin glistens with drops drip-drip-dripping from nose-elbow-fingertips (ick)
 
• enter a cold space and sweat crystalizes, flakes to the floor like summer snow (double ick)

• puddles form on concrete, ears clog, glasses and phones fog

• the world is a heady mix of locker room and air freshener - a sweet, acrid, salty perfume

This is the time of year that loosely worn abayas, dishdashas and gallabeas make sense.  Strangely, the more you wear the more comfortable you are: skin is sun protected, air moves, sweat dries, stains don't show.

As long as you spend most of the day...indoors.

Rocking the Parkway

Burns & McDonnell Half Marathon done:

Wore tee shirt signed by Bob and his coworkers, ie, Burns & Mac Doha bunch:

Hurt a lot (note upside down water bottle)

Now – back to todo list, gym, Bob and…

Bassam Ibrahim (in black in front) – Lebanese Kickboxing Champion…and gym-domo at Tower One, the Pearl, Doha, Qatar.  J This guy’ll get you in shape!

Running in an Abaya

Note to self: when morning temperatures exceed 6,000 degrees (exaggerating a little), it's best not to wear long, longish or - well, any length - cotton pants to run.

Aspire Park trail map

Because it doesn't matter whether you’re fat, thin, old, young, in shape or flabby.  It doesn't matter whether you run long-legged strong or slog injured, like me.  When you run in temperatures this hot…You. Will. Sweat.

When a person sweats into cotton, the material gets wet….in some of the most awkward places.  What's more…it stays wet.  Pretty much until removed.

No pictures.  Use your imagination.

As I bemoan my situation, a fully covered, head-to-toe black abaya-sheyla-niqab AND gloves-clad lady strolls by.  I'd seen her as I whisked (using the term loosely) around the park: her elbows out, head and shoulders back.  A solid pace, even as she wears thick sandals.  I'd found her eyes, greeted her - she replied through the veil.  Now sunglasses hide her eyes too.

HOW?  I wonder.  WHY?  The abaya is light weight, sheer, even.  Hold one layer to the light, you can see your hand.  Wind butterflies in and out as she moves, teases the material, perhaps cools her skin?

Perhaps.

But still.  The fabric is hot-attracting black.  And there's so much of it!  Does she wear runner's spandex beneath?  Wicking tee?  Nike shorts?

For sure she's not wearing cotton.

Thanks to my experiences at the Fanar's exclusive third floor ladies area

where sheylas are loosened and abayas (sometimes) drape across chairs - I know that, given the right opportunity, I might ask her.

But not today, as moisture wicks from my body and into the ill-advised and previously mentioned cotton garment.  As my pants droop like a two year old's beach diaper and darkness ebbs down my legs.

Nope, today I hold my head high, pretend the wetness doesn't matter…and head for my car.

Maybe I need an abaya.

Bob Goes to the Hospital

A solid gym workout.  A night of howling wind and spitting sand.  Hazy, thick morning air. Coffee, tea, meetings…and then: broiling chickens on an indoor grill.  Upstairs lunchroom.  Hot air rising. Hot "Egyptian Chicken."  Hot.  Space. Hot. Rice. Hot…

 

…water?  Too late.

 

Helped downstairs.  Sandy air refreshes.  "I'm fine," he says.

 

But the boss insists, so he goes:

 

To hospital.

 

Gets EKG.  Everything looks good (black sox excepted).

Blood work done.  No problems there (doesn't watch).

Waits.

Waits some more. Keeps waiting. Waits a lot…just like in every hospital in every city in the world.

And finally, the prescription:

If you live in a place where the air looks like this:

And the temperature feels like this:

And you're doing much of this:

It's important to drink lots and lots of this:

So your healthy, happy life may continue…like this:

Happily, Bob is FINE, everyone!  :)

Open Letter to the Sun

Dear Sun,

It's been three long days since I felt your kiss warm on my face.  Three days since your light has brightened the sky, shimmered against the water, reflected itself in glass.

Three days of cold wind and blowing sand.  Three days of watering eyes, absent horizons and gritty floors…inside the house.

Three days, Sun.

Remember how we helped Hannah find seashells on the beach?

Have you forgotten the great time we had jogging at the park and snuggling by the pool?  Those intimate walks along the Corniche?

Did it mean anything to you, Sun?

They tell me that your hazy bed is a merely a prelude to a summer of boiling water and scorched earth.  That you'll be back with a vengeance to belie our earlier closeness.  That one day soon even the sand and wind won't be able to cool your fury.

Must you withhold these last few days of dry, blue, beach sky?

I miss you.

Signed, an admirer

What We've Been Up To...

Bob:

works

Cindi:

hitched boat ride around Doha Bay...

...with this nice group of international teachers (would love to send this pic on with a working email address or phone number)

Meanwhile, Bob:

still working

Cindi:

ahhhhhhhhhhh

And Bob:

hangs at the job site

Cindi:

enjoys hot tea ("shay") in tiny little mugs

Of course, it hasn't been ALL fun and games.   Bob does this every evening:

power walk and gym time

While Cindi enoys an everlasting never ending all day all the time takes 4 hours to do a handful at a time lot of this:

ughhhhhhhh

We both do a lot of this:

But only Cindi does this:

Arabic lessons

 In this amazing place:

fanar building

unmarked ladies entrance

seriously, don't even think about it

Taking advantage of opportunities to try new things:

As we make the most of our time together:

dancing

Love you, miss you, keep those cards and letters (ie, emails, facebook, comments) coming!