The Doha Fellowship and Other Acts of Worship

Dorai and Nithila drive up to my villa in their Honda 4x4 just before 10 o'clock on Friday mornings. They come to pick me up for church. I have made their acquaintance through a friend in Canada, a connection that has proved to be so beneficial to me. Dorai and Nithila are from Tamila in India. They came to Qatar from New York City 4 years ago when Nithila was offered a position on the faculty of Weil Cornell Medical School. They are much closer to their homeland here, and Dorai visits India about every 2 months. Nithila amazes me with her ability to navigate the city. She effortlessly turns here and there, making u-turns at busy intersections with no visible trepidation whatsoever.

Most Fridays we attend the Doha Fellowship, a multi-cultural congregation of about 250 which meets in a villa turned meeting-place that has been provided by a wealthy sheik. Indian and African women in colorful national dress brighten up the drab interior of the villa. A variety of accents can be heard--South African, Australian, Indian, British. One woman said to me that it is just like heaven. She may be right. The music is loud and contemporary and is enjoyed with much bouncing and hand waving. Throughout the service various individuals in the congregation take the microphone to speak. I have yet to determine whether this participation is planned or spontaneous.

We have also attended the Anglican church, of the Diocese of Cypress and the Gulf, which meets in the gymnasium of the Doha English School. This is also the meeting place of the Qatar Natural History Group, I found out later. But that is a story for another time.The Bishop attended that morning to officiate at a confirmation ceremony. About half a dozen young people, all Indian I believe, and all dressed in brilliant white were to be dedicated to the Christian life. The Bishop was also in the city to conduct negotiations concerning the construction of a new church building on land donated by the state. His picture appeared in the Gulf Times that very morning. I find it surprising that the government of this Muslem country is so supportive of Christian congregations. I wonder if it is a subtle kind of control, this designation of specific spaces for Christian worship. It came as another surprise that there are several thousand practicing Christians in the country. It stands to reason considering that only about a quarter of the population of the country is actually Qatari.

Last Friday I had the privilege of joining in worship with a group of Tamil Christians. The only word that I understood was hallelujah, but the language of worship is essentially universal, and I was made to feel very much at home. I must have appeared very drab in my western style clothes and with my light hair and blue eyes as I sat on the floor surrounded by beautiful dark skinned women with shining black eyes dressed in brightly colored saris or shalwar kameeze. I had been seated for only a few moments before a woman behind me leaned forward to offer me an English Bible and a whispered interpretation of the scripture being read. Each time the minister announced another scripture, the woman would whisper to me in English where to find the passage. Before long the women all around me were joining in with whispered instructions. There were no language barriers for me that morning. And likewise no cultural barriers as I worshiped with my Tamil sisters. Following the service lunch was served, hot spicey Indian food followed by a sweet rice pudding. I will return to that congregation. These are people that I want to know better.
Thanks to everyone who have made comments on this blog. It's nice to know that you are out there and following the story. Yes, I do have 3 children--two by birth, and one by marriage. Take care and keep your stick on the ice.

Friday Night at Souk Waqif

The shopping malls are like nothing I have ever seen before for opulence and elegance. They are truly a reflection of the wealth of this country. Villagio Mall has a Venice theme complete with canal and gondola rides. The high domed ceiling is painted a sky blue overlaid with wispy white clouds. The entrance to City Centre Mall is complete with sweeping marble staircase, gold decorated pillars, majestic palm trees and fountain. Both malls contain a skating rink and amusement park,and retail stores from around the world.

The souks,as well, boast merchandise from around the world and throw in a taste of local culture (and color) to boot. Souk is the Arabic word for market, the olden day Bazaar used by the Bedouins to buy and sell goods. The Old Souq, or Souq Waqif, maintains the bustling atmosphere of the traditional market place.

Our first trip to the Old Souk was on a Saturday morning, in the heat of the day.The souks close at noon and open again after 4 pm when the sun's rays are lower, and the heat less intense. Poking around in narrow alley ways crowded with people we inspected shops full of cooking ware, spices, candies, perfumes, abayas elaborately decorated with sequins of gold and silver or colorful embroidery. We passed tailor shops and paused to watch the clothing being constructed. Several shops offered beautiful rugs of all shapes and sizes.

The souks, like much of public life in Arabic culture, are very much a men's area. Men run most of the shops,serve the customers, and haggle on prices. Women shoppers, if not in traditional Arab dress, are advised to wear covering of legs, arms and decolletage, or subject themselves to the outright stares of men. Having said that, I watched a diminutive Arab woman in black covering from head to toe, barter and haggle the best price with a shop keeper, then assertively direct a wheel barrow driver as he transported her purchases. Women know how function in a man's world.

The shop keepers expect that customers will bargain for lower prices. In fact, they admire a shopper who can wheel and deal. Almost as popular as "football" (soccer), haggling is a sport in itself. But there are deals to be had for those strong enough to stay the course. I am much too mild mannered, a typically nice Canadian, and pretty much fail in the bargaining department.

The Old Souq is transformed when the sun goes down. In the soft,mellow light of early evening in takes on an exotic air, an atmosphere of old Araby. The market becomes the meeting place. Arabs languish in outdoor cafes, smoking shisha,and drinking coffee. Groups of young men in thobes, and young women in abayas walk the avenues. Never the twain shall meet in theory. Young parents push strollers or take small children by the hand. Some buying and selling takes place I'm sure, but the evening is for food and socializing. If you are very lucky, you may even happen on a concert of Arabic music--violins, guitars, drums, clapping, vocalizing.

The malls and the souks--representative of the tug of war within this country. The push to modernize, to build, to bring in the best that the West has to offer struggles with the values of a bedouin culture stuck securely in the past. Desert people understand first hand the strength of nature, and the control it has on their destiny. Oil wealth is a very new phenomenon in this little arid strip of land. The changes that it is bringing have no grounding in the past and,like the foolish man who built his house upon the sand, could bring the house a tumbling down.

Getting lost and finding your way

Throughout our first weeks here, the university had provided new faculty and staff with drivers who faithfully and with good humor transported us around the confusing network of streets, highways and roundabouts which make up the road system of the city. On the Thurs before the Eid holiday week, this service was terminated, leaving many of us with the prospect of spending a week of isolation in the compound. This resulted in a flurry of activity as people rented cars and made arrangements with "fixers" to help them obtain Qatari drivers licenses. I am in no hurry to hurl myself into the speeding maze of Doha traffic, and opted to enjoy my villa for a week or accept invitations from my neighours to investigate the city and the country with them. What with Canadians being the kind and hospitable people that we are, I did not lack for invitations. My role became navigator from the back seat on many of these excursions as I perused the Doha city map and gave directions of "straight through at the next round about, or right at the lights.

It has amazed most of us that we have become so directionally disorientated in this city. That has much to do, I think, with the multitude of roundabouts which circulate traffic through intersections. Making a left turn requires that you initially go right. Being rather directionally challenged to begin with, I end up becoming completely misaligned and from there on directions all become counter-intuitive.

Another source of confusion is the near total lack of street signs, and absence of addresses. I have yet to discover how mail delivery occurs, or even if it does, or any kind of delivery for that matter. The Kentuck Fried delivery men defy the odds, however. I see them circling the compound on a regular basis, as well as the Pizza delivery and the bottled water delivery. I'm beginning to wonder if it is all a conspiracy to keep westerners confused. The trick, I'm told, is to become familiar with land marks--the Burger King roundabout, the Sports roundabout, Villagio mall, Landmark mall--then to count roundabouts and street lights, making the appropriate turns as required. I've begun to make some progress in that regard. This week I put away my map and carefully watched my surroundings as the traffic whizzed by on both sides. "Oh yes, I recognize that building, and this area is familiar to me. Yes, I know where we are now. This is the right direction." I could hear myself thinking. I am making progress.

The difficulty in designating landmarks is the virtual sameness of every area of the city. What you see on every side, whatever sector you are in, is construction. If there are any well-established residential areas in the city, I have yet to find them. Every neighbourhood is newly constructed, or in the process of construction, or a combination of the two. Compounds of varying degrees of completion are the norm, some of the villas lived in, some yet vacant. Elegant walled villas recently occupied are surrounded by more large villas partially constructed, the grey cement walls still dark and damp against the hot Qatari sun. As well, there is little variation in color here. The colors of the dessert are replicated in the architecture. Villas run the gamut of beige, cream, tan, with touches of terra cotta and yellow trim. The dust of the desert coats everything in any case, rendering all shades less than vibrant. On discovering an unusual green house near to our compound, we have named our own landmark on Al Shamal Road--the green house turnoff.

And so the brave souls among us have ventured into the intimidating traffic and have found that the driving is not so bad. In fact, I've been told that it is fun! It is like a real life board game where all the players are anticipating the moves of the others, and thinking in advance of where they must move on the board in order to avoid mishap or penalty. It has been encouraging to me to watch other middle aged female drivers get their driving bearings without too much difficulty. Even though from the back seat it feels like a combination of bumper cars and the tilt-a-wheel, I will eventually make the move to the driver's seat.

Our colleagues who have been here longer tell us not to worry about getting lost. "It is in getting lost that you are able to find your way", they say. That is a fitting metaphor for life in Doha, indeed for life in general.

Until next time...

I have been in Qatar for six weeks now and have finally figured out how to start this blog. Many Boomers, I realize, are more than happy to frig with gadgets and gizmos until they have it right. This Boomer has little patience with technotoys so if it takes more than one try to get it right, it gets put by the wayside. Like cell phones, for instance. I have not discovered how to store numbers in my mobile ( the life line of any expat worth her salt!) and have been unable this morning to contact a friend visiting from Dubai. If I learn anything from these few years in the Middle East, it will be to appreciate the wonders of communication technology.

If anything will motivate me to learn, it will be the need to be in touch with my kids. I have mastered Skype. If you haven't tried it you really should. It can put you right in the living rooms of those you love. All three children have had a personal tour of the villa, have observed their mother scratch and stretch and yawn through a conversation. The only deterrent to Skype is seeing yourself broadcast on that little screen to the bottom left--what a mess my hair is, and I'm looking so old! If you are particularly good looking, Skype should be a ball!

I have a few reasons for wanting to write this blog, not the least of which is to share some of my experiences with friends and colleagues in Canada. It will also offer me a chance to record my reflections, and determine what I really think about this Middle East experience. From what I have experienced so far, I realize that there is so much to learn, so many insights to gain. Finally, it will be practice writing, and much of it won't be that great. So be forewarned if you decide to follow this story to any degree. I'll be as forth right as I can--the writing will not be literary.

So let's begin.

We arrived in the oppressive heat of summer and were very quickly engaged in outfitting our villa. With the help of our wonderful driver, we spent two days scanning the malls for everything from groceries and sundries to towels , scrub pail and mop, dishes,pots and pans,super king size sheets, everything needed for housekeeping. Within the first week we were feeling pretty settled, having filled the cupboard and fridge with food, rearranged the furniture to suit us, and connected to internet and TV satelite and cable. Our compound is complete with fitness room and pool, and we were not long establishing a schedule of workouts and swims, mostly in the evening when the temperatures dropped to the low 40's.

Orientation for work started within a week of arriving. I've got to give the University of Calgary a lot of credit for the manner in which they receive new staff. Orientation was thourough and fun, and included the entire faculty who have only been here for a year after all, and who pioneered the project in Qatar, stumbling along by trial and error. It made us all feel welcome, and a part of a growing team.

Classes have been on now for 4 weeks. Working together and with help from the faculty in Calgary, course syllabi were constructed, lectures and activities prepared, and teaching begun. It has been a camel ride in many ways, but so is life in Doha. More about that in another entry.

This week is the holiday Eid Fitr, to mark the end of the holy month of Ramadan. Many expats use the opportunity to travel out of country and our compound is somewhat deserted. Several of us opted to "discover Doha" this week, and we have been having a good time at that. One thing that Doha has in spades is delicious, well priced international food. The Garden restaurant has wonderful authentic Indian food and great service in plain surroundings and at a remarkably low price. Most every type of food is represented here, and it is my goal to try them all.

More about life in Doha to come, but for now I will post some pictures--if I can figure out how.