Oh man, does time ever fly. Last time I wrote was June 1. So much has happened since then. For now I’ll fill you in on my recent experience visiting a mosque for the first time.

KATARA MOSQUE TOUR IN A SANDSTORM

I should explain that as I understand it, whether or not mosques are open to women is variable. Here in Qatar, women may enter a mosque (as long as they are properly dressed, i.e., in an abaya), but they are completely segregated from the men, who pray in the large, common area. The same sort of variability applies to whether or not mosques allow non-muslims. In Qatar, (again, as I understand it) all but two mosques are closed to non-muslims. On 3-June, I went to one of them. I participated in the mosque tour arranged by the Fanar Islamic Cultural Centre. The centre is right near the souqs and we were asked to arrive at 14h30. When I came out of my apartment building – I couldn’t believe my eyes – it was foggy! Or so I thought. Actually, it was disgustingly humid and sandy. Aw! Joanna’s first sandstorm. Talk about strange – like pea soup fog, only gritty and bad tasting and very damaging to cameras. And when I say humid, I mean like nothing I’ve ever seen before. People’s glasses fogged up the instant they stepped outside. Wonderfully weird. 

Anyway, the Fanar centre has a small exhibit and literature on Islam and Islamic views on various topics, as well as major contributions made to the betterment of the world by muslims. Very interesting. Here are some things I learned there:

MENSTRUATION AND ISLAM

When a woman has her period, she must not pray, she must not fast (for Ramadan). The idea behind it seems to be that she needs her rest. God knows there are times my period makes me feel so crappy, I wish I could just crawl up into a ball and not do anything. Same rules apply to pregnant women.

ISLAM AND WATER

Water is a bounty from Allah. It must not be wasted or used except when absolutely necessary. Another example of the unbelievable hypocrisy I see living in a muslim country. For a country ruled by Islamic law, you’d think that having a huge, lush green lawn or washing the pavement for no apparent reason would be outlawed, but nope.

ISLAM AND ANIMAL WELFARE

Allah forbade the mistreatment of animals or the killing of animals except when absolutely necessary to feed one’s self. Animals must be treated humanely. Hmmm. How humane is it to dye chicks and bunnies all kinds of colours (a toxic product which usually ends up causing their death within weeks) and then stuff them into a cage barely bigger than themselves to be sold in the souqs? Amazingly, I was told that there is a vet, who has his practice right near those very same animals. I just want to add that last weekend I was there again and saw a rainbow lorikeet who had been given sunflower seed mix for food. Lorikeets are nectar feeders – they are incapable of surviving on this kind of diet.

THE ACTUAL MOSQUE TOUR

The Fanar Centre lends women an abaya. Putting the shayla (head covering) on and getting it to stay on was nearly impossible. It has to completely cover your hair, ears and throat and there’s nothing to pin it together. I must’ve spent more energy continually pulling it back up over my hair than doing anything else that day! Oh, and for someone with super pale skin and nearly no makeup, this getup is not a great look (see photo). Hmmm, I wonder if that’s why the Qatari women make themselves up so heavily.

So we got on a bus to Katara, which is a cultural village. They brought us into a large room where they have a diorama of the eventual completion of Katara, scheduled for 2016. This place is going to be UNBELIEVABLE. Like a total paradise. Hundreds of unique villas, two apartment complexes (all gorgeous), shops, restaurants (there already are a number of restaurants), entertainment, basically a fully enclosed miniature city. Too bad about the weather because taking photos outside would have been great. But no big deal, I actually went back this morning at 5h30, and had the whole place to myself and took some of the most awesome photos of my life (which I will post on facebook once I finish editing them). However, I will attach some below from that day. The one directly below is Friday mosque, and the one below that is ceiling detail in the building with the diorama. 

Then inside Friday mosque (shoes off). I have to admit, it did occur to me to wonder when was the last time they cleaned the carpet because I was sitting on it and touched it with my hands and I mean living in this heat, let’s just say even my feet aren’t the best-smelling they’ve ever been, and these are mainly boy feet that have stepped on this carpet and those of you who know me best know my disdain for boy feet. We had a guide with us, originally from England. He was excellent. We also got to meet an imam who spoke English (by his appearance, my guess is he’s Ethiopian or perhaps Sudanese). Also excellent. And then there was the main imam, a Nepalese man. We received  a very near overload of information about mosques, about islam, about how to pray, about the islam views on the sexes, some of which I’ll detail below, if you’re interested. I will say that it was one of the most interesting and eye-opening experiences of my life. In the photo below, the Nepalese imam is on the right, further back and the Brit is the other guy.

THE MOSQUE

Ever wondered why the mosque has a dome shape? It’s because that shape provides the most architectural strength to the roof, reducing or eliminating the need for supporting columns, which would interfere with worshippers ability to stand shoulder to shoulder, which they are supposed to do. It also allows you fit more people into the same space. The mosque always has a mirhab, a recessed area in the wall, indicating the direction of Mecca, where you must face when you pray. The other essential element is the minaret. That’s where the call to prayer is emitted by the mullah, which is sometimes also the imam. In fact, the sight of minarets poking up everywhere with their loudspeakers and the sound of the call to prayer will be one of my most cherished memories of Qatar. Other elements, like the pulpit are not essential elements of the mosque. There are thousands of mosques in Qatar. Every little neighbourhood has a mosque so that people can get to a mosque quickly when the call to prayer sounds. However, most of these are very small. There are way fewer large mosques, that hold hundreds or thousands of people. Friday Mosque is one of the larger ones. It is beautiful.

HOW TO PRAY

Well, first the imam performed the call to prayer, which is hauntingly beautiful. Unfortunately, the video won't upload. He faces the mihrab and covers his face and sings the call, which basically starts with Allah akbar (Allah is great) and then basically goes on telling people “come to the mosque”. Ten minutes later, another sung call is used to indicate that now it’s time to pray. There are VERY specific positions, some of them extremely uncomfortable that you must adopt while praying. First, you hold up your hands, then cross them in a certain way over your chest. Then hold them back out. Then bend over double. Then crouch down in one smooth move (sucks if you have knee problems), with your feet in a certain position. Then on your hands and knees, in a certain position for the feet. Then on hands and knees. Then touch your forehead to the floor. Then back up, then crouch, then sit back on your right heel, with the foot pointed toward your left foot, and the ball of your left foot squarely on the ground. OMG so painful. Then a series of repeated movements. You don’t say much, you are reflecting. And these moves are supposed to take a certain amount of time. Below is a shot of the imam (centre) teaching two willing participants how to do the moves.

WHERE TO PRAY

The world is your mosque. Meaning, when it’s time to pray (5 times a day, never at the moment when the sun is touching the horizon) you may do so anywhere, with or without prayer mat. But if you can get to a mosque, you must do so. Men must pray in a mosque. Women may pray in a mosque but are not obliged to do so. Why? Because basically, they have to take care of the children, so it would be too much of a hassle to pack up the kids and go to the mosque 5 times a day and make sure they don’t misbehave while you’re praying. However, women pray up on a 2^nd floor, and can only see the imam through a kind of screen.

A FEW THINGS ABOUT ISLAM

1.       SPIRITUAL LEADER: Unlike Christians but like Jews, Muslims do not need a man to be an intermediary between them and Allah. The imam is simply there to lead the congregation in prayer. There is no such thing as a holy man, no such thing as a son of god, father, holy ghost. The imam, unlike a catholic priest, but like a rabbi, can marry, have kids, etc. In fact, he is supposed to do so, because Allah says all men (and women) should do so.

2.       BURYING THE DEAD: Unlike Christians but like Jews, Muslims do not cremate the dead. The dead are buried, and they are never buried in a cemetery beside the mosque, i.e., unlike many Christian cemeteries beside the church.

3.       TATTOOS: Unlike Christians but like Jews, Muslims are forbidden from permanently marking the body. I still don’t understand why you can get piercings.

4.       IMAGES/ARTWORK: Islam forbids the worship of idols, just like Judaism, unlike Christianity. Therefore, there are no stained glass windows with images of Mohammed, of animals, etc. Moreover, Islam does not allow images of animals in artwork, so artwork typically consists of incredibly intricate uses of Arabic calligraphy and is exquisite.

5.       CHILDREN: Allah says you should have children. You should not worry about providing for your children, but instead have faith that Allah will do so if necessary. Therefore, if you have a child and you can’t afford to feed and clothe and shelter it, have another child. If you can’t afford to feed and clothe and shelter that 2^nd child, have a third child. And so on and so on.

6.       Islam IS NOT SYNONYMOUS WITH TERRORISM. I shouldn’t have to say this, but unfortunately, too many people believe that to be true. Islam is peaceful. It seeks to provide guidance, clarity and comfort to its practitioners. Yes, much of the terrorism being perpetuated in the world today is being perpetuated by arabs. But if you think that terrorists are doing Allah’s bidding, you are wrong. Like in all major religions, Islam does not condone the killing of innocent people.

7.       POLYGAMY: A Muslim man is allowed a total of four wives, with the condition that he be able to maintain all four of them in exactly the same standard of living. That’s why most of them only have one wife. Also, depending where you live, and it certainly is the case in Qatar, the first wife has to agree that her husband take a second wife. Many women refuse.

8.       STATUS OF WOMEN: Islam accords the woman higher status than the man. Interestingly, women don’t seem to be treated this way. To my eyes, they seem to be treated kind of like children and there’s a lot of subservience and my impression is that the man is cock of the rock.

9.       RAMADAN: During Ramadan, you must fast from sunrise until sundown. This is a time of careful reflection. It is illegal in Qatar to eat in public during those hours, for example, for westerners, pregnant women, menstruating women, diabetics and other people who don’t fast. Elsewhere in the arab world, it’s just considered very rude.

June 1 - it's already been a month!

I know it’s been a while since I last updated my blog, so here’s some random things about what I’ve been up to, things I’ve been thinking about, things I’ve learned about life in Qatar.

ALL ABOUT THE SEXES – THE SUPERFICIAL AND THE NOT-SO-SUPERFICIAL LOWDOWN

One of the first things you notice when passing women in public is the odour. Holy crap, they love their perfume, and they wear so much, it’s like they bathe in it. Although to be fair, the men seem to be just as enthused with cologne. Beyond gross. There are huge stores everywhere devoted to nothing but the art of selling mass-produced and making up customized fragrances. Never in my life have I seen such an obsession with scent. For someone like me, who detests most artificial fragrances, it’s really quite unpleasant. I truly don’t know what’s behind this – do they have an inherent fear of smelling bad?

Overall, there does seem to be an awful lot of emphasis on cosmetics and the beauty industry. The cosmetics section of the grocery store is twice the size of what you’d find in North America. All manner of lotions and potions can be found, including endless varieties of skin-whitening creams. Women may be covered from head to toe with an abaya or a niqab, but regardless, they are made up to the nines. Foundation, heavy eyeliner, mascara, blush, lipstick – and whereas we might make ourselves up like this for a fancy night out or a wedding, this is their everyday look. There are exceptions, and my one Qatari student is among them. She neither wears makeup nor perfume, and frankly I think she looks and smells better than most of the other GCC (gulf cooperation council, i.e., countries including Saudi Arabia, UAE, Qatar, Bahrain, Oman, Kuwait) women I’ve seen. One of my students, Mahsa, grew up here, but her background is Persian. She is absolutely lovely and was in fact chosen as the model for the UCQ ads you see around (see photo). As for me, I’ve already gone for a pedicure and a manicure. These were cheap, well-done, relaxing (included thai massage) and, conveniently, about 400 m away, just around the corner. Of course, I nearly melted walking over there.

As for men, God only knows what is up with the footwear. I’d take pics, but you can’t really take photos of these people. You’d have to see it to believe it. I mean, they deck themselves out in the gaudiest, most expensive watches and jewelry money can buy but wear the ugliest sandals I’ve ever seen. If my boyfriend wore sandals like that, I’d be like: “listen, it’s me or the sandals.” I mean, I don’t like boy feet at the best of times, but shod like this, they’re enough to make me vomit in my mouth a little bit.

Oh wait, sometimes they dress a little better: many guys will dress up in western clothes and then come to the hotels so they can drink. Alcohol is illegal here, unless you have a liquor permit, which you can only get if you’re an expat with a certain kind of visa, which I don’t have. I’m allowed to drink in a bar or a hotel (as long as I show my passport), but can’t go buy alcohol in a liquor store. Anyway, they try to pass as non-Qataris so they can drink.

So enough superficiality, let me tell you about sexual socialization.

And that’s all I have to say. Seriously, there is none. You do NOT see girls and boys or young men and young women together. Ever. I was at the Grand Hyatt pool on Friday with Pamela (we had an incredibly awesome day), and around 16h00, it suddenly got really loud. I was like: “WTF is going on?” She was like: “wait, you gotta see this.” So she takes me over to the edge of the pool area, which is kind of along the beach, but really it’s this huge canal. And there’s all these jet skis with young men on them shooting up and down this canal, chasing after speedboats so they can do crazy jumps in their wakes. One of the strangest gatherings I’ve ever seen. What was equally strange was all the spectators: huge groups of young men in thobes (the white robes they wear) and, of course, grotesque sandals, with not a single young woman among them. See video. Hmmm, that didn't work: it says "sorry, there was an error uploading your video - server rejected". I'll try tomorrow from work. Ooh I think I know what's wrong - the video might be too long.

ARRANGED MARRIAGE

So, it seems if you don’t have a sibling of the opposite sex, you may just not have any contact with peers of the opposite sex until your marriage is arranged. I talked with Abdullah (my driver) about arranged marriage. His was arranged by his parents many years ago in Kerala, India. Now, bear in mind this was many years ago and today things are a little different. They may also be different in GCC countries than in India. In any event, he met his wife, Nafisa, exactly once before they got married. Both sets of parents wanted to match up the kids. So Abdullah went to go see Nafisa. Both sets of parents asked them what they thought of each other and whether they were okay with getting married. They both said yes. That was step 1. Step 2: Abdullah’s female relatives went to investigate Nafisa, met with her, made sure she was in tiptop shape (he literally said they checked to make sure her arms and legs worked properly and that she wasn’t messed up in the head). They approved, so they gave her a piece of jewelry. Step 3: the marriage. This consists of a ceremony between the groom and the father of the bride, who essentially shake on it. The Mullah sings a song pronouncing the marriage valid. The bride isn’t even there. Then there are two separate receptions: one for women and one for men. This description of the marriage particulars seems applicable to all Muslim countries. These days however, once the marriage is arranged, the prospective bride and groom at least get to know each other a bit over the phone before the actual wedding day and have the opportunity to call it off if they can’t stand each other. I don’t really know what to make of this. I mean, I’ll judge their footwear, but who am I to judge their way of life? Divorce is much rarer here than in the western world, although to what extent that’s because of societal pressures as opposed to the real desire to make a marriage work, who knows? But it did get me thinking that perhaps if my parents had arranged my marriage, maybe they would have done a better job than I obviously did.

THE GOVERNMENT AND SHARIA LAW

Here’s what I learned from Sara (my student), whose dad is a judge. The laws that apply depend where you’re from. If you commit a crime in Qatar and you are a GCC citizen, then you’re subject to Sharia law. So, if you steal and are found guilty, they will cut off your hand. But not here; instead they’ll send you to Saudi Arabia to take your punishment. If you kill someone and you’re found guilty, they’ll send you to Saudi to be executed. As I understand it, Saudi is where there’s a kind of centre of Islamic law, so that’s where the punishments are applied. Sara explained to me that if you’re arrested for a crime, and you’re guilty, you’ll confess because they’ll send the imam (Islamic version of a priest, though not quite the same because he’s not an intermediary between you and Allah – instead he’s more like a rabbi, I guess) and you’ll tell him the truth. So I asked her: “what if you either don’t believe or don’t want to admit it?” This was an utterly foreign concept to her. She said that if you’re a GCC citizen, then you’re a good muslim. Hmmm, so what to think of the men in thobes coming out of the Chinese body centre (massage parlour) around the corner from my place at like 1h00. Or the young men who try to pass as westerners so they can drink? Anyway, you go to trial and you’ll have a lawyer, but he, like the judge and all members of the court are actually religious men.

If you’re not a GCC citizen, but your country applies Sharia law (for example, Iran, Indonesia, etc.) then you might receive the same punishment as a GCC citizen. If you’re from a non-Islamic country, you’ll essentially be banished forever from all GCC countries. But you’ll go scot-free, is my understanding.

I talked with Sara a little bit about why Canada doesn’t have capital punishment, i.e., the reasoning my dad once explained to me, that it’s better to let 10 guilty men go free than to execute a single innocent man. And I told her the story of David Milgard. She was quite interested and seemed to get it. I also asked about freedom of speech, and whether you are free to oppose the government. So I gave the example that if I wanted to, I’m free to march around anywhere I please with a placard proclaiming that Stephen Harper is the devil incarnate. Or that George Bush is a total idiot. I asked if Qataris could do the same in relation to their emir. She was flabbergasted. Not because that’s against the law, but because the emir is such a wonderful person that EVERYBODY loves him. I told her about how Falun Gong practitioners in China risk being thrown in prison, or worse. She asked whether it was a religion. I explained that it was more of a philosophical movement, nothing really to do with religion. She had never heard of this, didn’t really know what communism was, didn’t understand the whole concept. Here in the GCC, your religion is indicated on your passport and that’s all that matters. She said to me: “doesn’t the Canadian government know your religion?” I explained that not only does my passport bear no mention of religion, but also if I want to practice a religion that worships the man in the moon, I’m free to do so, as long as doing so doesn’t require me to break any laws. It was a very interesting conversation, to say the least.

WHY YOU DON'T WANT TO HAVE A CAR ACCIDENT IN QATAR - AT LEAST NOT IF YOU'RE A NON-GCC

Last friday, I spent a lovely evening with a new friend, John, hanging out at his apartment, drinking a copious quantity of white wine (he's been here 6 yrs and so has a liquor permit), listening to and talking about music, and just shooting the shit in general. What a nice guy - very interesting too. Anyway, he's lived here for a long time and gave me lots of great insight, and told some interesting stories, including about car accidents. Incident 1: now, I can't remember who this happened to, someone who worked at UCQ, but who's no longer here, so I haven't met her. She was driving in a roundabout with a couple of passengers in a fairly small car, when a qatari man in a land rover (what else?) smashed into her from behind. The cops showed up, rubbed noses with the qatari man, discussed stuff with him in arabic and he got in his undamaged vehicle and happily drove away. She and one of her passengers were injured - badly enough that they had to go to hospital in an ambulance. Not only was she later found to be at fault for the accident (which she wasn't), but also, she was charged with abandoning her vehicle following an accident. She had to pay two stiff fines. John himself had a similar tale. Also an accident in a roundabout. Basically, a qatari guy did a sudden move into his lane and he had no time to do any evasive manoeuvre, and there was an accident. But in this case, the offending driver was a traffic cop. So whose fault was it? Yes, that's right. John's fault. When he went to to cop shop, he tried to protest and explain his side of things but ultimately realized the futility of it all, and paid the fine. So that's how it is in Qatar. If you're GCC, you're golden. Otherwise, you're in deep doo-doo.

THE TEACHING

Imagine my disappointment. Of my 3 students, 2 failed the midterm. I totally took it personally, felt like I was a shitty teacher, but after talking with several other instructors, it seems this is not unusual. The two who failed were Mahsa and Sara. Now, it might be relevant that Mahsa has missed 5 of 12 lectures/labs/tutorials (and never comes to class having completed the assigned readings) and that Sara has missed 3 (and usually doesn’t do the readings). I spoke with Stephany (perfect attendance record), who came to my office to view her exam and when she looked at it, she saw immediately how she made her mistakes, but said the exam was fair and held no real surprises. I hope they do better on the final.

FOOD

Going to the grocery store is weird. I’ve found a better place to do my shopping. It’s called Lulu Hypermarket. It’s gigantic and has a great selection, way better fruits and veggies and is cheaper than the others. However, things are very strangely organized and it’s amazing to me to be in a store that has 50 varieties of mangoes (no joke) but hardly any coffee. Oh, and Luxury seems to be the keyword in brand names. My hand soap is called Lux, my TP is called Luxury toilet paper, my cereal is called Luxury oat & nut crunch, you get the idea. None of these items are particularly luxurious – I guess the word “luxury” just makes things seem more appealing. What else? Oh, there’s an entire aisle devoted to dates (and let me tell you, after having eaten dates over here – well, let’s just say I don’t think I can ever go back to the crap that passes for dates in N. America). So, if you’re wondering what I’m bringing you back as a gift (assuming you’re on my gift list), wonder no longer: dates. I may have to bring a suitcase full of dates. But I have to say overall, man, is the food ever AWESOME here. Especially the fish, so fresh, it’s caught the same morning it arrives in the grocery store. The nuts (all kinds of incredible flavours) are amazing. Hummus, tabbouleh, baklava, and, like I said, dates. But not just plain dates. Chocolate covered dates. Dates stuffed with nuts. Dates with a nut inside, and wrapped in a chocolate-coconut soft delicious melt-in-your-mouth kind of confection.

NEW FRIENDS

At the time I left, despite my excitement over my upcoming trip to Qatar, I was terrified. This was my 1^st time travelling alone and I was going so far, leaving my boyfriend, my bird and my friends behind, and heading to something completely unknown. I remember it was about 3 nights before I left – that was the first time I nearly broke down. I was standing outside the Blind Beggar and Davey (Greg’s bandmate) said: “what – you’re leaving Sunday? Can we see you again?” Then he turned to Greg and said “Can we see your girlfriend again before she leaves?” I nearly burst into tears right there. But I didn’t, I saved that for the airport (oh man, the drama).

Anyway, one of the things I worried about was what the people at UCQ would be like – would I fit in, make friends, etc. However, at the same time, I knew full well I’d only be here for 2 months and that it would be best not to get attached to people or let them get attached to me. But if you know me at all, you know that was a losing proposition from the get-go. Of course I made friends, how could I not? These people are great.

In particular, and most unexpectedly, I’ve met several women I just click with and laugh hysterically with, who understand me and what I’ve been through and seem to appreciate me for who I am. So I thought I’d tell you a bit about them.

CJ is the go-to-girl on campus when it comes to IT. When you tell her you have a problem – she kind of gives you this look and spouts off something like “yeah, the computer does that just to mess with your head”. But she comes and fixes it like it’s no sweat. She’s super chill, despite the fact that she’s also in school at the moment and changing jobs in September. Oh, and I bet you she’s the only IT woman anywhere who strides all over campus in these beautiful, but horribly impractical heels. She admits to being turtle-obsessed (thank god!) and is extremely funny, resilient, intelligent and down-to-earth.

Suzanne is fascinating. Parents from Egypt, but born in Ethiopia, but grew up most of her life in Toronto. Eventually moved to the M/E, lived in Egypt (where she met her husband) and Bahrain, before coming to Qatar. She’s a chemist and teaches biology in the foundation program (sort of like our freshman courses). She’s got little kids (so cute) and tons of energy. And she’s hilarious. So far, we’ve managed to destroy two voltage converters and part of the electricity in the lab together (well ok, that was mostly me). Nothing bonds you like the smell of burning plastic. We’ve also managed to nearly mow each other down in the hallway, prompting Elyssa (who’s very pregnant) to say “I’ll give you two a wide berth”. I realize this is totally immature, but a pregnant lady saying this (i.e., the word “berth”) when I was already laughing my ass off totally sent me (and therefore Suzanne) over the edge.

Then there’s Pam. Man, I love her. She’s in marketing. She’s a total girly girl (admits to being HM) super fab. She’s super soft spoken, has been through a lot of the same things that I have, and so gets me 100%. Talking with her is like therapy. What I admire about her is that she’s got 2 kids but recognized the need to do something that was totally for her. She is giving up one year with her children (who are with their dad, in Calgary) so she can have them come out here the 2^nd year she’s here. I think it takes a very strong person, first of all, to survive the kind of crap both of us have, but second of all, to do what you need to do for yourself so you can, in the end, be a better person for yourself and for your kids. On the weekend, we had a total girly day at the Grand Hyatt pool, then the most fabulous shower of my life at their spa, then dinner and drinks and it was the most relaxing day I’ve had since I got here.

Here's a video taken the last time we four went to try and see nesting sea turtles and had an absolutely awesome evening, despite not actually seeing any turtles. One turtle did come up on the beach while we were there, but changed her mind and went back to sea. Haven't you heard? Changing your mind is a female's right.
OK, this video, I'll also have to upload from work, which has a direct high-speed connection to Calgary. Because it's really short but it's been uploading for an hour and a half now with no end in sight. Man, does Qtel ever suck.

And then there’s Joanne. Her last name is Divine, and man, is she ever. She too has been through the man-wringer (a very common theme among UCQ women) and so yes, she gets where I’m coming from. But it’s more than that. Despite a fairly significant age difference, she and I laugh till our stomachs hurt. There are all these “Joanne-isms”. For instance. Me: “why are these cars parked on the sidewalk”. Her: “it’s not a sidewalk, it’s an extension of the road”. Me: “why is there a rihyal (Qatari paper money) sitting in the drink holder of your car?” Her: “I think it just blew in through the window”. Yeah, like there’s so much bloody $$ here, it just blows in through the windows. Oh and then there’s the whole Psycho shower scene thing (sorry, inside joke which I included so I won't forget it - this blog is for me too!). But she’s also a tremendously inspiring person. She has travelled the world, sometimes alone, sometimes with other people and there’s nothing this woman won’t tackle. She goes biking in the desert by herself, is planning a trip to Iran by herself and one to China, she has so much inner strength that I wish I could be like her. In the beginning, she had no choice but to hang out with me as she was assigned to be my UCQ buddy. But man, I’m so glad they put me with her and that she chooses to continue hanging out. Here's a video we took at the gold souqs.

These four women in particular are really special, but I really dig nearly everyone at work – it’s a great environment. And I've become quite close with Abdullah - I mean we spend at least a half-hour together in the car every day and we talk about all kinds of stuff, and he's just a fantastic human being. The crappy thing about this, of course, is that I’m already attached to my new friends and it’s only been a month. As much as I miss everyone in Canada, I know leaving Doha is going to be heart-wrenching, not just because I’ll be leaving behind an incredible place and adventure, but also these beautiful people.

Day 15 – 17 May, 2011

SOUQS

Went to the souqs last night with Joanne. What a blast. The souqs is a gigantic market, rife with narrow passageways and all manner of shops, restaurants and people. This wasn’t my first time, I went once before by myself, shortly after I moved into my apartment. However, that time, I stupidly wore my normal western clothes, which, in my case, isn’t a whole lot. Little sundress with spaghetti straps. Didn’t take me long to learn not to dress like that in the souqs. With my upper arms and lower leg, covered in tattoos, I got a lot of unwanted stares. This time I wore my work clothes (we have to wear sleeves that cover our elbows and pants, shorts or a skirt that covers the knees). However, I still can’t hide the huge tattoo on my calf or the one on my wrist. So I got fewer stares, but still quite a bit of attention. Tattoos are forbidden in Islam, because it’s defiling the body. Now, some people are open-minded and understand I may have different beliefs than they do and I do sometimes get compliments. But last night, there was this one man in a wheelbarrow (passageways of the souqs are full of men, shopkeepers and old men with wheelbarrows who will carry your purchases if you want) who saw my tattoo and did some wild gesticulating, pointing at his calf, shaking his head and clucking his tongue, and then raising his arms up to the sky. Despite the lack of verbal expression, it was pretty clear he was letting me know I was offending Allah. Oh well, I guess I won’t go to muslim heaven after all. So the next two photos show one of the wheelbarrow men and the Fanar Centre (the spiral mosque), an Islamic cultural centre.

Anyway, Joanne had a couple of errand type things to do but mainly we just walked around kind of aimlessly. We stopped at the camel lot (where they sell camels). I asked her how much she thinks a camel costs, she figured perhaps upwards of 500 000 QR (around 135 000,00 $ CDN). Too bad – I was planning on buying a pair, now I guess I’ll have to limit myself to one. In particular, there are piles of shops that sell fabric, in fact, I’ve never seen so many bolts of fabric in one geographic area, let alone a single market. There are also many shops that sell the traditional arab garb, nuts, spices and sweets, strange and unusual trinkets and toys (there’s one shop that sells more sponge bob things than I could have ever imagined existed.

Quite disturbing was the domestic animal area. Bunnies, cats, dogs, ornamental pigeons (Darwin would be thrilled, I bet), ducks, parrots (mainly budgies, Congo African greys and blue-fronted Amazons, nearly all very young individuals, but also some cockatiels, ring-necked parakeets and a green-winged macaw). Many of these animals are in deplorable conditions, crammed several individuals into small cages (see photos), though less so the parrots, they were mostly out of their cages, free to bite the closest unwary finger. Of course, their wings were all trimmed incorrectly, outer primaries intact, but inner primaries and outer secondaries clipped so that the bird can gain speed and lift but can’t land safely without smashing its keel or beak on the ground. But most appalling was the dyed animals, specifically baby chickens – see video below. I can’t begin to understand what that’s about.

We also went to the gold souqs, which is an area (indoors mainly) of stores selling nothing but gold. I’ve never seen anything remotely like the jewelry these people covet. It kind of defies description. The gaudiest, heaviest, most ridiculous stuff. I asked about this one necklace which was like a series of interconnected shields, with all kinds of fancy filigree and ornamentation. I asked where people here would wear something like that (to a wedding) and how much these pieces weigh (up to a kg!). Holy moly, that’s a whole lot of gold. I’ve attached a video.

The best part of the evening was our dinner. We went to an Iranian restaurant, called Isfahan. Never in my life have I seen a décor like this. It was absolutely incredible. Extremely ornate, with mirrored mosaics, crazy chandeliers, a fountain, amazing wall decorations (these murals and sort of statues built into the walls). It was way, and I do mean way, over the top, but exquisitely beautiful just the same. I was completely enthralled. I’ve attached a photo of a chandelier – I took video as well, but I have to rotate it and that takes forever, or I may not have to - let's see - if I can, I'll put the video instead. The meal was great, the service was too, and they had live Iranian music – a violinist and a guy on keyboard/vocals. The violinist was amazing – both Joanne and I detected a slight Celtic influence in some of the songs, which was really unexpected, but very cool. Man, I’ve missed listening to live music (and my practicing barre chords is more torture than listening pleasure.

Tomorrow, I’m supposed to go back to Fuwayriit to see if we can manage to see a female sea turtle actually laying her eggs. CJ and I (and possibly Suzanne) will leave straight from work, have a picnic on the beach and hopefully await the arrival of a turtle.

One last thing. I have NO MONEY. My bank card for some strange reason simply wouldn’t work, not in any of the 5 ATMs I tried. I haven’t had any problems till now and I phoned the bank when I got back to my appartement last night, but they couldn’t see what the problem was. I did try again this afternoon – same deal. I may have to ask someone to wire me a large sum (via western union) and I’ll pay them back immediately via email money transfer – please let me know if you’re willing to do this. I do have the money to cover it.

Oh, and I can’t phone anyone because out of the blue, for like the first time, skype asked me for a password. I have no bloody clue what it is. Greg set up my account for me and I thought I knew what it was, but clearly I don’t. That’s mildly annoying. And the reset email they sent me for some reason hasn’t arrived – how long can that possibly take?


UPDATE: Skype situation fixed this morning (wednesday) and $$ situation resolved by CJ, who offered to take me to a better bank this afternoon and if that doesn't work, to exchange cash for friendship (haha!), no to exchange cash for an email $$ transfer. Man, the UCQ people are awesome.

Day 11: 13-May-11

JOKE’S ON ME – HAHA NOT FUNNY AT ALL

So yesterday I had a bit of a morning from Hell. The night before, I planned to be a good girl, finally go to bed early (this getting up at 6h15 business is kind of not what I’m used to, especially not when Greg stays over at my house, because God knows he doesn’t like to get up early and reacts to his alarm like a teenager does – and I mean that in the nicest possible way). Anyway, I started to get ready for bed at around 22h00. I’ve been using my ipod touch as an alarm clock – but for some stupid reason, every time I connect it to the computer or to the external speaker (which also charges it) the time seems to get pushed back an hour (it’s like daylight savings time every day!). So every night, I double-check that the time is correct before going to bed.

Every night except that night. My alarm went off yesterday morning at 6h15 and I could barely open my eyes, which I thought was kind of weird. I also thought it was kind of weird that it was darker than normal at that hour in the apartment. In any event, I ate my juice and cereal and had my coffee and made my lunch and then thought I should check how much time I had left before Abdullah was going to arrive (he picks me up at 7h30). I turned on my mobile phone only to find that lo and behold it was 6h00. I literally swore out loud – man was I ever pissed. I tried to go back to sleep, but who can sleep right after drinking 2 cups of coffee and getting all angry? Instead, I played video games on my ipod and did a little research about this problem. Apparently, it’s kind of common. But talk about annoying!

WHO THE HECK IS IN MY CLASS ANYWAY?

So I was truly exhausted all day. Oh, and today I only had 2 students: Sarah and Stephany. Oh wait, let me back up – I just realized I haven’t really explained what UCQ and my job and my class are like. First things first: my students. Hmmm, to be honest – I’m not really sure who’s in my class. I was originally supposed to have 18 students, but a number of them failed the pre-requisites. Then I was supposed to have 9 or 10. Then 7. Two of which approached Sondra Hutton (in student services) and told her they didn’t want to take my course because they don’t like biology and they didn’t like it in high school. OK – let me get this straight – you don’t like biology, but you want to be a nurse. Interesting. Actually, it turns out, many of the students at UCQ are only doing this because it’s what their parents want them to do or to have some way to pass the time. So the first day of class, 2 students showed up: Stephany and Merdh (pronounced Merda). Merdh is Qatari, Stephany is Malaysian, originally from Sarawak, which is on the island of Borneo. Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather. I’ve never met anyone from Borneo, which is the place I want to visit more than anywhere on Earth.  Anyway, I didn’t end up giving the lecture, figured I’d give the students another day to turn up, instead I talked with the two of them and got to know them. They are both delightful. Stephany’s parents have lived in Qatar for many yrs – her dad’s a professional. She and her sister lived in NZ for several yrs (her sister is still there) but she came to Qatar about a year ago.

When Sondra found out how few students showed up, she tried to find me new students and managed to scrounge up 3 more. All of them are in the foundation program (it’s kind of like a freshman year). Their names are Safa, Wafa and Garyhian. Safa is Qatari, Wafa was born in Qatar, but her family comes from Sudan and Gahryman is from Turkmenistan. They showed up on day 2, along with Stephany, Sarah and Mahsa, (born in Qatar but family from Iran, speaks perfect English). Day 2 was awesome. I taught them about Darwin’s theory of natural selection, some aspects of which go against the teachings of Islam, but I made it clear that they were free to retain their beliefs, but that I was teaching them the scientific view of things. It went fantastic. These students are sharp. Plus, Sarah, who’s a total attention-seeker and talks all the time out of turn, but still has relevant things to say, came up to me at the end, told me she really enjoyed my class and presented me with a sandwich that she bought me. White bread (crusts removed), butter, cheese, lettuce. Told me it was delicious. I thanked her profusely, ended up giving the sandwich to Abdullah, because of course I can’t eat anything with milk (so no white bread, butter or cheese). However, Merdh did not show and hasn’t shown up since. As for Gahryman, he was there, but after 2 hrs of a 3 hr lecture, he stood up and asked to be excused because he had to go do something for his mother.

On day 3, I had everyone from the previous day except Gahryman and the lecture was pretty much all about the origins of macromolecules and of life on Earth. Again, it went great. On day 4, which was a lab/tutorial orientation (yesterday) only Stephany and Sarah showed up. Sarah asked me what was going to happen to the other students that were absent. I told her to concern herself with her own performance and not that of her classmates and not to worry, I had things under control.

THE HUMAN HIERARCHY – BEING QATARI IS GOOD

So you see, I really don’t know who is in my class, i.e., who will show up on a given day, but apparently this is normal. Now, I realize you may be wondering why I gave all the details as to where every one of them is from. Well, I thought you might be interested to learn about the hierarchy of people in Qatar. It’s all about where you’re from. If you were born here, it doesn’t necessarily mean you are a Qatari. It seems that Qataris are only considered as such if their lineage is Qatari.

These people are the uppermost echelon of society. These are the filthy rich folks I was talking about. Sarah told me some interesting things. We were talking about the unrest in this part of the world, especially Syria, Lybia, Bahrain, Oman. She said that won’t happen here because everyone loves the Sheikh. I asked why. She explained how wonderful he is, mainly, I gather because of the distribution of wealth. She told me (and I verified that this is all true) that Qataris (and only Qataris) enjoy free utilities, health care and post-secondary education. Furthermore, upon graduation, a position will be waiting for her, whereas poor Stephany (her words) will have to look for a job. Oh, and don’t let me forget: while she goes to school, she earns a salary. She told me the minimum is 8 000 QR (the equivalent of about 2 125,00 $ CDN). I said: “per year?” She laughed and said: “no, per month”. But she earns much more than that, this is just the minimum. When Qataris get married, the government buys them a piece of land and/or a house. Yes, life for Qataris is very easy. No such thing as poverty.

Below Qataris are other Arabs. Next come the expats, which have their own hierarchy. Whites are at the top – they occupy professional jobs. Next come Philippinos – they typically occupy white collar jobs or are in the service industry. After that are Indians – like my driver Abdullah. Many of them come from the same state as he does (Kerala) and they occupy labour positions, like drivers, cleaners, etc. Next come the Bangladeshis and Sri Lankans. At the bottom of the heap are the Nepalese. And these people, the Indians and below, are treated openly as lower class. No wonder Abdullah loves Canadians so much. To me, this is the ugly side of Qatar, one of the most racist, classist societies I have ever seen.

SOME FACTS ABOUT WOMEN IN QATAR AND ISLAM

I also wanted to explain to you about the dress here. People in the west seem to think that the niqab and the abaya are signs of oppression, and that these women are meek and mild and beaten down in a way. Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, whether a woman wears an abaya (face showing) or a niqab (cutouts for the eyes) is totally up to her as an individual. She only removes the garments in front of her family and other women. These girls and women are definitely not meek. They are typical semites (essentially Israelis and Arabs). Outspoken, pushy, impolite by our standards, but totally genuine – and to be honest, I quite like them. Wearing these garments is not a matter of religion, but rather a matter of culture. Oh, and I learned something very interesting about Islam. I noticed that Abdullah doesn’t wear a wedding ring, despite being married. I asked him whether they exchange rings in India. He told me that he gave his wife a ring and a necklace but that he received a watch. I joked that he got the short end of the stick. But then he told me that wearing gold is forbidden for Muslim men, but didn’t know why. It turns out that gold is deemed to be for women (as is silk, by the way) and that the Qur’an forbids men to “act like women” and vice versa.

MEETING NEW PEOPLE

They had a gathering yesterday afternoon for international nurses' day and to welcome me. It was interesting - i met one guy, John, who is also very into music, knows Los Morenos from Calgary, plays guitar, he was like "we should jam sometime". I laughed. Earlier, I met this other guy, who's in charge of IT on campus. He also plays guitar, told me all about his custom 1978 Les Paul. So I showed him a photo of Greg's guitar and told him that I also play a Les Paul. He suggested I sing with him and a few other guys at this end of the year chili cook-off thing they're having at the end of june. We'll see. Well, actually he suggested I play my guitar and sing. I laughed. Hard. Although, last night, for the first time ever, I managed to play a 3 chord song without looking at the guitar at all. Right now, I'm trying to learn "Yellow" by Coldplay, which has a bloody barre chord (F#minor), but it's actually going not too badly, although the strumming pattern needs serious improvement.

BIRDWATCHING

OK, so my day today: well, I was already exhausted, so I figured, why not get up at the ungodly hour of 4h15 and then leave at 5h00 to go birdwatching in the desert with Eric Tull, his wife and a couple of British gents? I know, I’m crazy. Qatar is, of all countries, the most impoverished in terms of wildlife habitat, being the only country to have no open fresh water. So where to go birdwatching? A farm in the middle of the desert, where they grow forage for camels, followed by a trip to a lovely sewage lagoon. The farm is interesting – small, a few groves of some kind of tree (maybe olive?), and not much else for habitat, other than the electric wires and some irrigation puddles. One thing you notice in Qatar: a constant parade of sewage trucks on the highway – bringing raw sewage to the lagoon. Guess who drives these trucks (yes, that’s right, Indians). Anyway, I wanted so badly to see rollers and bee-eaters, and I saw both. So here’s the list:

Larks (crested and hoopoe); Spanish sparrow; bush robin; doves (collared and namaqua); pallid swift; European roller; spotted flycatcher; white-eared bulbul; common nightingale; black-crowned sparrowlark; shrikes (red-backed, isabelline and southern grey); common redstart; greater flamingo; black-winged stilt; tern (either little or saunder’s – couldn’t ID); pied avocet, little grebe; common moorhen; collared pratincole; dunlin; little stint; ruff.

Plus, I saw camels, uromastyx (although I believe I may have caused the death of one – don’t really want to discuss that) and a gerboa (which apparently was very lucky).

This afternoon, for some reason (actually I know the reason, I just don't care to discuss it here) I felt super homesick and lonely. So I called Greg, crying. As usual, he made me feel better and as usual we ended up laughing and having a good conversation. Not surprisingly, when I phoned him (9h45 MST) he was still in bed. Haha. Oh God, I'm so in love, it verges on nauseating - or maybe I'm still jetlagged. Kidding! Seriously, what's really good is I'm way less stressed than I was when I first got here about him cheating on me while I'm away (although I suppose that fear is totally understandable given, well, wait - if you know me well enough, i don't need to spell it out for you). I can tell he totally misses me.

OK, that's it (long enough for you?). I miss home, but don't worry about me. I love Qatar.

PS: ugh, looks like i'm on the hedgehog/nocturnal insect night waiting list.

much love and peace to all,

Day 8 10-may-2011 – sea turtles at Fuwayriit

CJ and Lisa came to get me at 17h30 and after grabbing some quick takeaway at yet another highly opulent shopping centre food court, complete with merry-go-round, we were on the road. It’s about an hour’s drive to Fuwayriit beach, on the northeast Qatar coast. Most of that drive is on a brand new, smooth as mirror 6-lane-hwy with nothing but desert on both sides. But then a small, yet not insignificant part is driving pretty much through that desert, in CJ’s Honda Civic. All I can say about that is, well, wow. And it was like “hmm, I think we’re supposed to go around this outcropping, hmmm, do you think it was along this depression in the sand, or that one?”

When we parked the car, we had to walk through the desert in the dark, which was very cool, and then you come to a sort of fence made of fabric with several “doors” in it. We marked the door with my bandanna so we’d find the car again on the way out.

Hawksbill sea turtles nest on various Qatari beaches but face, much like sea turtles everywhere, tremendous pressures. In this case, the main problem today is vehicles driving on the beach and disturbing turtle nests. Currently, Qatar has lost > 80% of the sea turtles it once had and they are legally protected. People used to dig up the nests and eat the eggs (gross!) or else hunt the turtles and eat the meat. That is now illegal and less of a problem. It seems that Qataris recognize the need to protect this species. So the government has a protection program in place, essentially, a guy (Shafeeq) in an Atco trailer on the beach, who scoots around every night during nesting season in a dune buggy, searching for nesting females. When he finds one, he marks the spot, then when the female is finished laying (this can take hours) he measures her, tags one of her flippers, (in some cases) puts a satellite transmitter on her, and then digs up her eggs. These, he moves to a specific location on the beach that he can keep watch over, making sure these new nests aren’t disturbed.


By the time we arrived, a fairly small female, and by fairly small, I mean at least 25 years old and slightly over a metre long carapace (the shell on the back) length, had finished laying and covering her eggs and was actually flipped over on her back, trying to figure out where the hell that darned ocean was. Shafeeq’s boss, from the Dept of the Environment, who was there tonight and drove us out to her got out of the dune buggy and turned her upright. This turtle had quite the hard time figuring out which direction to go in, was it the lights of the dune buggies that confused her or was she just slightly dumb? Who knows. Either way, the whole spectacle brought tears to my eyes. She was beautiful, although the barnacles growing on her head and carapace were somewhat unattractive, and incredibly exhausted. 

Then it was time for Shafeeq to tag her (while Lisa held the flipper) and measure her (WHILE I GOT TO HOLD HER IN PLACE!!!!!!!!). Definitely one of the highlights of my life. And let me tell you, that mama was strong – it took all my strength to keep her in one place and at one point she was literally dragging me along the beach. Amazing. 

She eventually made her way to sea, and by that I mean Shafeeq’s boss picked her up, brought her closer to the water and pointed her in the right direction.

Then Shafeeq dug up the nest, which was about 45 cm deep or so. It contained 61 eggs, most perfectly round, slightly soft and similar to a golf ball in size. Some were much smaller or deformed – apparently those aren’t viable and clutches typically contain some non-viable eggs. He moved the eggs to another spot, which already has 9 other clutches. It takes about 2 months for the eggs to incubate, so the first ones should start hatching in mid-june, which we’ll definitely be able to see. We’ll probably also go back to watch nesting females again too.

Now, I should explain that sea turtle survival is typically low. I have no idea what it is for this population. I also know that the depth of the nest (and nest temperature) is what determines the sex ratio of the offspring, as opposed to genetics, as in mammals, for example. This is really a rudimentary conservation operation – I didn’t even bother mentioning to Shafeeq that if they aren’t careful about how they relocate the eggs, they may end up with highly skewed sex ratios in the population. To learn more about the trajectory satellite-tracked females make in the gulf, visit http://www.seaturtle.org/tracking/index.shtml?tag_id=105847&anime=1

We then had the amazing experience of swimming in the Persian gulf in the moonlight. The water was warm, clear and the current was strong. But everything about tonight was an absolute delight and the weather was perfect. Oh, and Shafeeq took my contact info because they’re looking for a wildlife biologist. Hmmm, in particular, it seems they want someone to help out with a shark project. Oh my God, what I wouldn’t give to work with sharks. I told him that I’m more than willing to get my diving certificate and that I’d jump at that opportunity.

There are so many reasons why I love Qatar, this is just one more.

Below is some video I took.

Peace to all.

Day 7

May 8, 2011

They call it a Doha moment. What is it? It’s what happens to everyone who comes to UCQ (University of Calgary Qatar). The jetlag is so bad that you go to work your first week in a complete and total fog and remember very little. Apparently, for every time zone you cross (and I crossed 9) it typically takes one day to adjust. I thought I had some kind of magic forcefield protecting me. And by forcefield, of course, I mean little blue sleeping pills. Not to mention, I figured I was super adaptable to time changes given those 3 summers switching from being a normal, diurnal human being on a reasonable work schedule, to working all night long every night and then some (man, those 18-hour days were totally insane). But I guess nobody gets off scot free. My first night in my apartment (Wednesday), I slept a total of zero hours. Instead I tossed and turned for 3 hours, then gave up and spent the wee hours playing video games and chatting with my brother and then my boyfriend on skype. Unfortunately, this was the night preceding my first day on campus, which was therefore a maze of faces and corridors, none of which I really remembered. Thus (and I’m skipping ahead), when I went in to my office today, I had a ridiculous amount of trouble recalling who I’d met, where my office was, etc.

Still, I did meet this really great girl, CJ, that first day and she took me to lunch at the Villagio (a shopping centre which is a total knock off of the Bellagio in Vegas, complete with canal and skating rink, not to mention Van Cleef and Arpels, Cartier, Versace, BCBG, etc. What do you think I did? Blow the bank on diamonds and pearls, of course ;-) Anyhow, she and I really connected and one thing she told me was that most of the women she’s met who’s come out to UCQ have some hideously traumatic breakup story that preceded their departure for the Middle East. Hah! So I’m not the only one. Good to know.

She also told me that even after being here for 3 years, she has very little insight into the lives of Qatari women. Although they’re definitely not meek, it’s a totally closed society, one whose people don’t mingle with the expats that outnumber them. I’ve learned (from CJ and Joanne) that women here are steadfast about removing all body hair, often wear trashy clothes under their niqabs or abayas, often have vitamin D deficiencies (!), and I certainly don’t need anyone to point out that many of them may as well have their mobile phones surgically attached to their ears. Hah! My students are in for one hell of a rude awakening in their first class with me tomorrow. I’ve indicated in the course outline that texting or otherwise using their phones during class is prohibited and I will ask them to leave if they do so, not to mention that they must arrive on time (apparently they tend to prance in whenever they please – as my hundreds of previous students I TA’d discovered, I’m a super enthusiastic teacher when it comes to bio and I’m fun, but I’m a total hardass when it comes to following class norms and performance on assignments and exams).

CJ also told me that she’ll take me in late June to go sea hawksbill sea turtles hatching off a Qatari beach. All I can say is if that actually pans out, I’ll just about die. Before I even started my Master’s, I went and did a tropical ecology course in Barbados, did a mini-project on sea turtles and got to see a female covering up her clutch of eggs in the middle of the night and then lumbering off to sea, which totally made me and many other students cry. I said at that time that I would give anything to study sea turtles. I said the same thing when Paul and I were in Hawaii and green sea turtles were swimming all around us and I had tears pouring down my face, which totally didn’t surprise him because he knew how I always get emotional when it comes to wildlife spectacles (man, you should have seen me when I captured a female bat with her pup attached to her, or heard me squealing and crying the first time I saw a Townsend big-eared bat). Anyhow, to see a new generation of a highly endangered population (Qatar has lost >80% of its sea turtles) go off to sea would be a highlight of my life.

Oh yeah, I was talking about jetlag. See? I just had another Doha moment. Well, I did actually get off quite lucky. That was my only foggy day. I managed (with tremendous difficulty) not to nap that day and got about 6.5 hrs of sleep that night (Thursday), slightly more Friday night and last night I slept from 00h00 to 7h15. I feel pretty good, hungry at roughly the right times, etc.

Getting used to my life here. I cook now in my apartment, I’ve been practicing guitar, and I even have a ritual: I go up on the roof every day at sunset (but not  today because I was too busy prepping for my first lecture tomorrow – and man oh man, am I ever nervous) to hear all the mullahs doing the call to evening prayers. There are so many mosques – the singing seems to come from everywhere. Haunting, beautiful, spiritual and moving.

And I’m really getting to know Abdullah, who’s an extremely nice, honest and intelligent person. I totally love him and he said he’d drive for me my second month and work out a private arrangement with me so it doesn’t end up costing me 5 200,00 riyhals (= approx. 1 600,00 CDN). His living situation (like that of many migrant workers): he shares a 7 bedroom place with 9 other men, and in the bldg, there’s a total of 4 bathrooms for 46 men. Oh my God. The next time I feel like complaining about cramped quarters or my living situation, I’ll remember that. He totally freaked when I told him what it costs me to rent my house in Calgary, because it’s about 3 times more expensive to rent something equivalent here in Doha. Back in Kerala, he has a 3 bedroom house, with 3 bathrooms for just himself, his wife and 2 kids. I’m quite honestly having a very hard time dealing with the ostentatious display of wealth by the Qataris. Plus, I’ve seen how many of the women treat their drivers, which Abdullah basically confirmed for me. Basically, they barely talk to their drivers – treat them like they’re not of the same caliber of human being – so contrary to my view of people. Abdullah says he loves driving for UCQ people and finds Canadians to be the nicest people – no sense that we’re the boss and he’s “just” the driver. I don’t know – I mean here is a 55-year old man, who’s been away from his children most of their life, just to try and give his family what they need – how can you not respect that?

Hmmm, I gotta go get ready for bed, but I’ll update again within the next few days. BTW: it’s bloody hot as hell here (in the high 30’s to low 40’s) and it’s bound to get into the 50’s within the next couple of weeks. My hair is already completely hideous, puffy, frizzy. I was the only idiot yesterday walking to the grocery store – no one actually walks around here. In fact, exercise is only just starting to become commonplace – traditionally being fat is desirable – a sign of wealth.

Missing Canada, my family, my boyfriend, my bird and my friends, but adjusting.

Oh, and I can count to ten, say please, thank you, you’re welcome, sorry in Arabic.

Much love and peace from (and to) the middle east, J

Day 2 – 03 may 2011

Dinner last night at the Four Seasons was super fantastic. Middle Eastern buffet. Fatoush salad was the best I’ve ever had, but hummus and tabbouleh, though excellent, still weren’t as good as mine or my mom’s. Middle Eastern desserts are super yummy (duh!). Went for a long walk to take photos of Doha at night, trying to cross the roundabouts unscathed was an exercise in survival. Oh, and pretty much only men drive here and just about every one of them honked at me/yelled/whistled out the window. Mental note to self: even if the front desk tells me I’m dressed appropriately, err on the side of caution. Hmmm, maybe the fact that one of the guys at the front desk practically begged me to come back, offered to take me out for Middle Eastern cuisine should have tipped me off. But no, I’m an idiot that way. So men here definitely do more than glance, but they seem pretty harmless.

My driver, Abdullah, is from Kerala, India. He’s been here 4 years, left behind his wife, 16-yr old daughter and 14-yr old son. He’ll go home in july for the 1^st time. Why did he come? Because the unemployment rate in his village is 95%. He pointed out a restaurant to me and suggested it. I asked how he liked the food. He said he’d never been because dinner would cost him a month’s salary. My waiter at dinner, was Jeff, from Nakuru, Kenya. His dad’s the head warden of Masai Mara Reserve. He’s been here 3 yrs, before that was in Riyadh. Two men who left behind their families to try and make a better life.

Breakfast was a buffet akin to what’s on offer at the Banff Springs Sunday brunch, only middle eastern. Ate a weird fruit called dragon fruit. Carrot-zucchini muffins were to die for. Charmed the chef (French guy named Loic) into giving me the recipe. Score!

Left the opulence of the Four Seasons and moved into my apartment, only to find a small flood on the floor of the powder room. The apartment has zero natural light, the microwave beeps randomly (so I have to unplug it when I’m not using it), shower is more like a trickle, big cracks in walls. The weirdest thing is that this building was only built 4 yrs ago and yet in many ways it’s falling apart. But that’s how it is in Qatar. Buildings go up like gangbusters – never have I seen this much construction – and workmanship suffers. Not to mention that things just aren’t built to last in the desert. No  bloody clue how to use the washing machine – the instruction manual explains everything except how to start it, and instead the control panel is a jumble of cryptic symbols and letters (what the hell is a blossom supposed to mean? And how is cycle A different from cycle B, C, D?).

I have a UCQ buddy. Her name is Joanne Divine (gotta love that). Her role is to help me transition into Qatari life. She’s really nice, arranged to go out for dinner with me, following consumption of contraband alcohol in Leslie’s apartment. But the best part about her is that when I arrived at my apartment after spending a small fortune on very unfamiliar groceries (which by the way was a total adventure), I felt totally overwhelmed, discombobulated and alone. This after blowing the fuse on my voltage converter immediately upon plugging in my North American power bar – that was a mistake. Oh, and I realized I left the battery for my SLR camera in the charger, plugged in at home. Tried to replace it, but it would actually be cheaper to have Erin (my lovely housesitter and awesome friend) mail it to me. Anyway, Joanne phoned me and immediately heard in my voice that I was a little freaked out and told me to come right over (she’s down the corridor). I walked in her apartment and she gave me a great big hug. We spent the whole evening together, lots of laughs, especially at a very strange sounding menu item (see photo) at a restaurant that also offers “massages”. Hmmm. She’s 55, been here since UCQ campus opened in 2007, has traveled all over, most recently to Nepal and Bhutan last month. Very cool lady. I feel quite a bit better, like I have a friend, someone who realizes how totally foreign this all is and how scary it can be at first.

Some of the things I’ve gathered so far. Don’t cross the road like you’re in Calgary. Pretend you’re in Montreal, you’ll be just fine. Roundabouts everywhere, watch out for drivers who suddenly decide to take to the sidewalks. Never seen so many cell phone stores – I don’t get it – is there a shortage or something? Oh, and Abdullah, my driver, says to me: “when I arrive, I’ll miscall you”. What that means is people here just let the mobile phone ring once to avoid paying charges and they use that as a kind of code. Funny – the best part is I’ve started doing it too. These are the filthiest rich people I’ve ever seen. I bet when they go to the bathroom, they poo money. Few women drive, but the only Qatari woman I saw driving today was in a pink hummer. Hah! Per capita pollution is higher in Qatar than anywhere else in the world. Today I saw an Aston Martin, a few Porshes, God knows how many BMWs and Mercedes, numerous Range Rovers. You get the idea. Consume, consume, consume. No recycling, but more unnecessary packaging than I’ve ever seen. The Qataris are like ghosts – the black ghosts are the women and the white ghosts are the men. Most Qatari women seem to wear the niqab (black ghostlike robe head to toe, with slits or even cut out circle things for the eyes) but some wear the abaya (face showing), in particular the Malaysian women. Most of the population (around a million) is expats, mainly from India and the Philippines. Qataris seem to have quite the sense of entitlement. Case in point: we went to a takeaway shop after dinner, and people drive up and honk their horns and get extremely impatient if they don’t get served immediately. Man oh man, makes us Canadians look even more overly polite. Some of the rules: don’t sit with the soles of your feet pointing toward your host, don’t eat with your left hand, no alcohol, no pork, if you run a red light, the fine is 10 000,00 QR (approx. 3 000,00 $ CDN), forbidden items to mail to Qatar include greeting cards with chimes (WTF?). Oh, and a tattooed girl certainly attracts a lot of attention.

Tomorrow I go to the campus, meet some people, get my office, etc., basically get myself set up. I’m hoping this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach goes away, and that’s it’s just homesickness and not something more icky. Oh, and you can’t drink the tap water here, but nobody can tell me why not. Basically, this is going to be a true test of my adaptability. I mean, lord knows I’ve rolled with some major punches this past year and proved myself to be quite the weeble – let’s just hope I continue to go with the flow, inshallah (that means God willing - I'm learning some Arabic from Abdullah).