Habib's Story, Part 3: The Gift

The next morning, I got a note from Vee.  By royal decree, Saudi's ban on bird imports is absolute.  No manner of help or contacts will allow her to take Habib to her new house.  Even in her short message, I could hear how distraught she was.  She did not have any other immediate options here.

I read her note and felt so bad for her--it was just the level of frustration and sadness I had felt having to give up El Jefe...except I had three children to distract me, and El Jefe had not been the miraculous story that Habib was.  I felt heart sick all over again, only for this lady I hadn't really met.

Then it occurred to me: a possibly wacky idea going against what John and I had envisioned and because we had in fact tried it in the past but then here we were in a totally different situation compared to the U.S. and here was this incredible story about this bird being rescued and tamed and loved so much and yes, it WAS a little outlandish and no, she didn't really know me and she might think I was totally crazy, but we did have experience with African Greys and she really DID seem to be out of options and it would be such a joy for us and maybe could be a comfort to her and what if...what if...I mean what IF we offered to adopt Habib?  My heart started racing and I got all giddy even at the idea.

But I knew I had to convince John first.

So, being the writing teacher that I am, I (in my head and probably talking aloud to myself) started composing a tightly structured, all-angles and questions addressed, well presented, logic-driven but with the perfect little sprinkling of pathos on top argument that I could present to John.  I listed all the reasons it would be good.  I thought through the struggles.  I practically had to sit on my hands not to call him at work right that second. But I didn't.  I sat or rather sort of danced around thinking about the possibilities...assuming she really really really couldn't take Habib with her.  A bird. An adoptive home.  A solution for Vee.  A new family member for us.  A special friendship all around.  It was all I could do NOT to sit down and write a PowerPoint presentation reinforcing my arguments.  Yes, I am a complete nerd.

I would have to talk to John but then if he was okay with it I could offer the idea to Vee...but how could I let her know that I wanted the offer to be a kind extension and not that I was just grabbing for this precious bird that she loved?

And then, literally as I was pondering and dancing and feeling happier than I'd felt in a while, another message came to my inbox.  Yes, it was just like that Sleepless in Seattle..."you've got mail!"

Vee asked me if I would consider adopting Habib.

What?
Are you kidding me?
This was like the pet universe winding up and delivering me the most awesome gift, like a payback in happiness for all the sadness we felt leaving El Jefe and the cats and the dog with other loving homes.  And the irony and timing and cosmic alignment or fate or coincidence was so amazing that I still feel a little drunk thinking about it.  John and I had just about come to the depressing conclusion that we would not be able to have a pet in Doha, I reach out to one last seemingly random person for any advice, and because of the struggle she is sadly facing, we may be able to not only help her but have our wishes come true.  Crazy.  Universe.

No I didn't drop everything and call John right that second. I resolved to wait until he got home from work.  That lasted 15 minutes, and then I called him.  I started with the story of Habib's inability to go to Saudi (John already knew about Vee and Habib's background).  He knew exactly where I was going with my spiel, but not that Vee had extended the idea.  He listened. He agreed!   We could adopt Habib.

I let Vee know that we would love to be Habib's adoptive parents, and she said they would be leaving some time in September.  She was so heart broken but wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

Part of me was actually praying something would work out with Saudi, that she would be able to take him after all, just because I felt so bad for Vee...but then part of me was over-the-moon about adopting him.  That is a very strange combination of emotions...like being multiple personality but knowing it.

Now, despite dragging everything out up to this point...I really did this for myself...I want to remember every detail of this incredible friendship for the rest of my life...I'll summarize the difficult next phase:  About a week or 10 days later, Vee decided that it would be better for Habib to get settled with us before they left.  We made a date for all five of us to go see him and meet Vee and her husband in person.  They are the nicest people, originally from South Africa and with family there as well as in Doha, and looking to return to South African after retirement.  Everything with our meeting and Habib went well, so we brought him home last weekend, about three weeks following the start of this story.

For all the "blank spots" in that summary, you should probably fill in reminders of how hard this has been for Vee.  She has been so gracious, but I  know she is mourning the loss of her boy.  Vee and her husband actually lived in Houston for a while, so they are good with our Texas twang, and they were so sweet to our kids (who made themselves right at home in Vee's house...even putting their feet on her furniture!  Argh! No home training for my heathens!).

Marhaba bik, Habib!  Translated from the Arabic: A special welcome to you, Sweet Boy!

Now, my next post will be about the re-homing process and a couple of fun stories.  This is one smart bird...and Vee did an incredible job of taming him.  My heart and thanks go to her about a thousand times per day.

He's not mad, he's curious:
This is Habib looking into the camera on my laptop.  

The "fish eye" filter is turned on so his head is a little distorted (looks bigger).

Habib's Story, Part 2: A Lucky Friendship

I signed up for the bird forum and sent Vee a private message, explaining our goal of ethically adopting a bird as well as all the dead ends/frustrations we had faced, and simply asking if she had any wisdom to share.  I felt so blue and just hoped that maybe she just knew of a reputable bird store or seller or way to adopt.

And then I proceeded to check my email once an hour to see if she had responded. :)

Don't you hate that about what electronic communication has done to us?  We tend to hope for immediate response, even when we know that's crazy.

I heard back from Vee the next day, and while she empathized with my situation, she didn't have any magical answers to good bird sources in Doha.  In fact, she shared part of a rather amazing tale with me: her Congo African Grey, named Habib, had been rescued from a worker camp here in Doha.  They had been feeding him some of their rice, but his environment was poor.  Not knowing the workers, I don't know if they did the best they could or if they were mistreating him.  No use in hypothesizing, but one of us will someday write a difficult blog posting on some of the living conditions we see for hard-working laborers here...it is not easy to describe, understand, or consider.  The bottom line was that Vee had taken Habib into her own home as a wild, frightened creature. It had taken her eight months to touch him, but through three years of her patience and love, she had bonded with Habib, and he was her trusting friend...completely hand-tamed, talking, happy, and healthy.  With Vee's two children grown and out of the her nest, Habib (which means "my love" or "my sweetie") had become her baby.

Having known the difficulty of approaching Cosmo's cage and sharp beak, I thought this was incredible.  I was also under the initial impression that adult bird were unable to bond or go through significant rehabilitation/taming.

In fact, I was wrong about those initial impressions...those are common misperceptions, in fact.  Adult parrots can be "re-homed" into a new environment and with care, time, and patience, can become excellent family pets.  Before leaving Texas, I had consulted with the local breeder from whom we had bought El Jefe, and he also reassured me that "a good bird is a good bird, no matter what its age."

Thinking about Vee and her success with an adopted adult bird gave me some hope.  Maybe we didn't need to seek out a baby or very young juvenile to have a great pet.  Maybe we could rescue a bird, given the right situation. I pondered these possibilities and thought about talking to John...but worried because he and I had been very set on doing this the "right" way (including a very young/bondable bird, clear breeding papers, etc.).

Unfortunately for our possible friendship, Vee was scheduled to relocate to Saudi Arabia this September, so I knew that she would be very busy getting prepared to move.  In relation to that, I asked her about her experience with the CITES permit process (That's pronounced "sight-ees"...for more on the treaty to control import and export of threatened and endangered species, click here).  She said she was having a difficult time, but that she was hopeful over a special contact she had found.  Knowing the pain and frustration of trying to get permits for a pet bird, I had my fingers crossed for her.

Wow: For Qatari Culture, Read This

I was looking around the web at pictures of the souq, when I stumbled upon this blog/personal site:

http://www.catnaps.org/islamic/design.html

If you are interested in Qatari history, architecture, and culture, then I strongly recommend Gulf architecture, society, and Islam.  He has even written on falconry.

The posts are long, include pictures, and fascinating. 

Habib's Story, Part 1: The Preface

Some of you will remember this post about saying goodbye to our bird, cats, and dog back in Texas.  Just looking at their pictures still makes my heart ache, and in some strange way is the most vivid reminder of the huge changes we've made to our lives.  When we see P & B online, the one cat (Shady) is often in the background, and just seeing her perched in the window gives me such comfort.  We're also lucky that the dog is with the Sante Fe Sisters, so we can sometimes see his drooling snorting bundle of energy and stink, too.  (Nelson has been entered into a beauty contest?!?)  We know all of our creatures are well loved, but the distance is still difficult.

So in the midst of the trip taking the dog to Santa Fe and during the painful goodbyes for the bird and the cats, John and I thought of what we would do about pets here in Doha.  I am just not a dog fan...I don't like being followed around or the natural "eau de doggie" that is a part of having one (and I'm not talking dog farts...I'm talking about the fur and funk smell that is just normal).  John generously tolerates my cats, but they are not his favorite either.  The litter boxes have a significant stench, and the cat hair is all over everything...these things are the bane of living with the felines.  We had a large fish tank for a while, in fact at one point we had two, but that is a lot of work as well.

So the only thing we can really agree on, in terms of entertainment, love, and work, is a bird.  We loved El Jefe, and he was such a low-maintenance creature.  He was happy to sit and watch the household chaos, and he was so tame...no biting for me or John and some predictable body language with others.  He and I had special whistles we would call to one other, and he loved to sit on my shoulder and preen my hair.  I could scratch his head and preen his pin feathers and handle him in almost any way and he completely trusted me.  His cage was a mess, and he had a daily screeching period around 5:30-6 PM (right when I'm cooking dinner), but overall, he was a great pet.  And since we raised him, we had a special attachment to him.

Prior to El Jefe was Cosmo, whom some of you will remember well.  Cosmo was a Congo African Grey, who lived with us before we had kids.  Cosmo could talk up a storm, and we had years of serious laughter with that bird.  To this day, the stories make us laugh all over again.  Cosmo was not hand-trained.  He had a history that we didn't know but was probably wild-caught in the 1980's. After he bit a hole in my lip, we stopped with the kisses, too.  I finally got him to trust me enough to step on my hand when I had a hankerchief wrapped around it for protection...and he and I felt like we had accomplished a huge feat.

So when John and I considered what sort of pet we would have in Doha, we both longed to have an African Grey again.  This time, we said, we would get a very young bird from a breeder.  We would hand-tame him to trust us.   We would take care of the paperwork on this end (verifying captive breeding, etc.) early, so getting him back to the US would be no issue. We would keep him with us forever (a 30-50 year life span).  Maybe buying one here would even be a little less expensive, since we are closer to their native lands.

And then we learned about the pet situation in Qatar...

Cats: Love of cats goes back to ancient times here.  The Prophet Mohammad showed kindness to a cat who was asleep on his prayer mat.  Cats can find tiny shady spots and can be independent.  So cats fit into the history and rhythm of this region.  They have more angular faces and are typically long and thin (even when relatively healthy).  We could adopt a great indoor or outdoor cat in a heartbeat.  Getting a cat home to the US requires only a vet certificate and a carry-on cage.

But we had agreed not to have a cat.

Dogs: Qatar tolerates many dog breeds and are even proud of the desert Salukis (who can outrun a Greyhound).  They have a list of those who are not welcome in the country, typically because of rumors related to being fierce.  Nelson would not have been welcome in Qatar, but with his short nasal track and propensity to overheat, he would not have done well here anyway.  Lots of Westerners here have dogs.  Adopting a dog would be no problem.  Getting a dog back to the West requires only a vet certificate and airline fees.

But we had agreed not to have a dog.

Birds: Bird breeders are non-existent in Doha, at least as far as I have been able to find from talking to pet owners and local veterinarians and from looking online...and I mean HOURS searching online.  Birds are still imported or perhaps bred by the most questionable means--this is not a good place to be a bird.  Below is a picture from Souq Waqif in the pet area.  There are at least a dozen pet "stores" which are small stalls (air-conditioned inside but open to the brutal summer heat), and they keep/display their animals mostly in crowded cages like these.  Cages will be full of birds or cats or rabbits.  You do see dogs in cages, but either only littermates or single dogs.  Some of the larger birds are chained to bird trees/perches where they can be fed sunflower seeds.  The cages *are* generally clean and have some sort of food/water, but overall this is bad especially in the heat.  For cats and dogs, there is the Qatar Animal Welfare Society as well as vets who will help find adoptive homes, but the souq or a few similar independent "pet shops" are the only place to find a bird in Doha...

A home just doesn't feel complete to me without a creature.  So after our initial week of getting settled, I started excitedly seeking info about birds...that turned into obsessively trying to find ANY legitimate sources for birds (even in neighboring countries)...and that turned into a feeling of depressed disappointment that the only source of a bird would be through the questionable (illegal? ethical? even passably humane?) markets above.  And then the bird might be sick.  Or totally wild and freaked out.

With no help from any of the sources I mentioned above, I found one last potential idea.  A woman with the username Vee had been active in an online discussion forum about African Greys.  Her location was listed as "Doha, Qatar."  Maybe she would give me some advice?

Marhaba Bik, Habeeb!

For Chantal, Not to TeaseBut to Wish You Were Here

Without giving away another's personal info, let me just say that I have a beautiful, smart, all-around fantastic friend named Chantal in Texas.  She speaks with a great French-Canadian accent, has three precious and handsome boys, and cooks like...wow.  One of her specialties is baking, and whenever I know Chantal is coming to a gathering with something from her kitchen, I know we are in for a serious treat.

One of the treats I've been the lucky recipient of is her Baklava (pronounced bak-la-wa here...you would have laughed to see me trying to name it using a "lava" ending and the confusion it got in response).  Click here to see about it on wikipedia.  Chantal swears it is easy to make, but I think it must be a labor of love.  It's a layering of filo dough, butter, pulverized nuts (typically either walnuts or pistachios), some spices, and this gorgeous honey syrup.  You pour the syrup over the layered "casserole" and let it sit and absorb.  So good baklava is both crunchy and syrupy/juicy at the same time.  For you hot tea drinkers, it is the perfection of accompaniments. 

Just thinking about it makes me drooooooollllll.

So all sorts of baklava and related treats are common here.  Here is a plate of goodies that I got from one of my favorite shining fancy superstores, Lu-lu.

I am not smart enough to know the names of all the little items...but I can tell you what's in them.

Around the plate edge are six dates. John already did a blog post on those, so I don't have to be smart about them.  Reds are from Qatar, and yellow are from Saudi.  The baklava is the little squares stacked on the upper right.  On the left is a little fold-over of filo dough stuffed with pistachios and the syrup.  Around the front are little rolls stuffed with pureed dates and chopped nuts or pureed dates and whole pistachios.  The one sort of in the very front/center is then rolled in sesame seeds.  Toasted sesame seeds...another holy-cow-I-want-to-drown-in-this item for me...

Notice there is no chocolate on this plate.  That does NOT mean there is no chocolate in Doha.  Quite the contrary...but that's another blog post...

Chantal!  I miss you! :)
PS: Yours is even better than the stuff we bought at Lu-lu.  Seriously.

Right Outside Our Door

Our compound is a group of 140 houses plus a really awesome pool/clubhouse surrounded by a wall (all compounds and many houses are surrounded by stucco walls).  Earlier this summer, management announced it was going to make some improvements, including the addition of a convenience store for things like milk (yea!). Well, our actual house (here they are called "villas") is two doors away from the main gates.  And literally right in front of where the little store will go.  As in, you will be able to walk out of my front door, go straight 30 steps, and be at the milk-buyin' place. 

Construction on these improvements started about a week after we arrived.  Included in this activity is TEARING UP ALL THE ROADS IN THE COMPOUND.  I mean literally bulldozing them to the dirt and repaving.  It is going to be fantastic when it's done, but for now it is a hot dusty loud mess.  For the last how-many mornings, I have been awakened at 6 AM by the "beep beep beep beep" sound of large machinery backing up...or the window-rattling rumbling of the steam-roller thingy compressing the new road base.

Did I mention that construction in a Doha compound is nothing like construction in the US?  There are no designated detours or pedestrian walkways.  There is just the huge construction zone, the cars, the people, the God-bless-them-how-do-they-work-in-this-climate workmen, and a lot of required patience.  Here are some pictures.

I'm standing at the base of the road rubble in front of our house.  The pile was maybe 6-8 feet tall?  This is when they were ripping up the road surface.  Behind the pile is our house and driveway.

A picture from the driver's seat of our car...I mean SUV...which has four-wheel drive.  That pile is directly in front of our garage, which is barely one car-width wide (two cars deep).  You had to put the vehicle in 4 WD to get over the edge of the pile of rubble (while also driving on the sidewalk).

 

The construction as of yesterday morning, when Hannah had her adventure.  The road will remain across the bottom of what you see here.  Starting at that curb and going back to the clubhouse will then be grass, a fountain, a play area, and back to the left (where you can see the concrete blocks in a small pile in front of the front end loader) will be the store. This photo is taken from the window in our master bathroom.

Some of you saw on Facebook the mention of Hannah's early morning walkabout.  Here are the two versions of the story, with mine first because it is much less interesting.

7:10 AM: John leaves for work.

7:15 AM: Hannah comes in, gives me a kiss (I'm still in bed), and disappears in the house to play.  She often will go get in bed with Hank or Jack and even go back to sleep...or sometimes she and Jack get busy playing video games or "baby tiger and the tiger trainer" (our game of the moment).

7:17 AM: I am back in some la-la land of mostly asleep but occasional consciousness...typically when the front end loader or steam roller is backing up and making that beeping noise.

7:45ish AM:  The phone rings.  I am confused because (1) this phone doesn't ring like a "normal" phone and (2) no one EVER calls us on our home number.  I don't even know our home number.  So it takes me a minute to even know what that noise is.  I have to get out of bed and walk to the next room to answer:

"Hello?  Misses Nancy?  This is the front desk.  Your daughter Hannah is here with us in the club house.  Can you please come collect her?"

Of course my first thought is the damned beeping steam rolling earth moving child crushing heavy machinery and big rocky sandy hole between here and there and immediately picturing my bare-footed, pajama-ed tiny little four year old somehow wandering through that by herself?!?  I get dressed, run over, and collect Hannah, who is looking a little shaken but otherwise just fine...sitting with a gentleman named Chito (yes, pronounced Chee-to) and having a cup of water. I don't ask many questions, but just apologize profusely and thank them 100 times and avert my mascara-smeared, sleep crusted eyes, and move back towards the door and home.

And now, Hannah's version, as told to me twice (so although she isn't sitting here reciting, this should be pretty accurate).

I wanted to go out and look at the pretty flowers.  And so I went out the door [to the garage].  And then I looked at the flowers and came back to the door.  But the door was locked [it was too difficult for her to open it from the outside] so I went to the backyard and sat down and cried.  And then a man was in our backyard and he could walk and sit on the wall! [They're putting decorative lights on the compound's outer wall, and a man was at work accomplishing this on our part of that wall.]  And the man saw me crying and he asked me what was wrong and I told him I couldn't get in the house because it was locked.  So then he left and I went to the other place [front porch?] and then a beautiful beautiful lady came wearing a skirt and it had some pink on it [we have no idea who this was] and she took me to the club house and they gave me a drink of water and were nice.  They asked me my name and I said Hannah and I don't know my last name [?!?!?] and then they called you and I sat with a man named Chito and then you came to get me.

This whole walkabout was performed in her Dora the Explorer pink flannel nightgown, pullups, and barefeet.

All I can say is that I have never been in a situation where my four year old could have possibly been any safer, even with the earth-moving equipment and complete lack of "designated pedestrian areas"
 and significantly different languages spoken.  That is a pretty lucky thing to say.

And yes, she has learned not to leave the house without a buddy or parent.

Three Words:Indoor. Amusement. Park.

What do you do in a region where the summer temperatures regularly reach the 120's and occasionally venture into the 130's, where wind and dust storms are frequent during those hot months, where people have large families, and where women and children request a certain level of privacy?

You build INDOOR AMUSEMENT PARKS. And I don't mean Chuck E. Cheese (which I have not seen here...PTL).

Apparently each western-style mall has one. The Villagio mall, which is about 5 minutes from our house, has a huge one: four-story-tall ceilings and the square footage of a Super Walmart. Complete with its own food court (despite the mall food court being literally right outside the entrance), 10-lane bowling alley, go-cart race track, bumper cars and other carnival rides, trampolines, gigantic tube/shoot/ball pit thing (like an indoor McDonald's play area), and full array of arcade games. Unbelievable.

Each park works a little differently, but for this one, entry is free and then you pay for each ride or activity. Cost-per-ride varies, from 5 Qatari Riyales (about $1.50 USD) per person for the Ferris wheel, kiddie train, and other "milder" rides, to 15 QR (about $4.12 USD) for the roller coaster. You get a swipe card, load it with whatever money amount you wish, then reload it when you run out. If you have money left on the card, then you just save it until next time. I put 150 QR on my card. That "150" sounds like a lot, but it's actually $40.12 USD, and when you think about entertaining 3 kids for any length of time, that's not a terrible amount of money.

Here are some pictures of the place and its rides. Sorry about the lesser quality--I took these with my cellphone camera, and I turned off the flash. Because of the sensitive nature of photographing women and children here, I had to be discrete.  A reasonable number of people were there--no real waiting for rides, but enough people to not feel deserted.  I think it got more crowded later in the day.

Looking inside the entrance to the arcade area.  That's skee-ball on the left and air hockey tables on the right, with other games straight ahead.

Hannah atop a camel ride.  It wasn't working, but my guess is that it "walks" in place.  She was about 7 feet off the ground, so a frozen camel was fine with me...

On the kiddie train.

Yes, an indoor log ride, just like the one at Six Flags.  The boat goes up a big incline (on an track of water about 18 inches deep), to about 3 stories off the ground.  It then slides down a big hill/track and careens into a long flat water shoot, which makes a gigantic splash.  The shoot has tall plexiglass sides on it to keep the water inside but allow you to see what's happening.

The full-sized Ferris wheel, which is almost four stories tall.  All three kids and I fit in one of the cars. And yes, the height scared the crap out of me.

The roller coaster and crazy spinnacker ride.  

The boys rode the roller coaster along with about a dozen precious Qatari girls in their abayas (traditional long black robes).  I couldn't take a picture because of the girls, but they were so cute--ages 12 or 13 and having typical fun just like you would see anywhere in the US...whispering, giggling, comparing new purses, texting, screaming on the roller coaster.  It was awesome.  And it was really cute to see the two boys' little blondish heads amist all that.  The coaster track doesn't loop but it does have a good-sized drop and lots of curves and bumps.  It travels around about 1/2 the indoor area (generally overhead). For 15 QR each, the boys got two turns on the ride. 

That big arm thing, covered in lights and pictured in the middle, starts off parallel to the floor.  It looks like a windmill laid on its side, with three arms of seats.  The kids get in the seats and are secured with those big over-the-shoulder padded restraints, the same ones they have on the biggest roller coasters at outdoor parks. The "windmill blades" (holding the seats with the passengers hanging down) then begin to spin...faster and faster...and then the arm holding all of it raises up 90 degrees, to be perpendicular to the ground...so the seats are now spinning sideways four stories in the air.  It was terrifying just to watch. None of us chose to participate (and Hannah is still too small for the coaster or for this).

This is just about 1/2 of the main rides (not including the go-cart race track).  Some other rides were very popular and to take pictures that were clear enough to use would have been difficult.  But it was really fun to see the girls' abayas and the boys' thobes (traditional robes) flying around in the air, as these very "exotic" looking kids had a good old "Texas/American" good time. :)

A Chart of the Doha Week

Okay, I have fallen into a state of never knowing what day it is.  The reason is that I still expend brainpower thinking in terms of Texas days and mentally converting times.  For example, when someone says, "I'll see you at 2 PM on Friday," I think to myself, "Oh, Friday here is like Saturday in Texas...and when it's 2 PM here, it's 6 AM Texas time."  Why do I do this?  I don't know.  My guess is that the habit will fade away.

But just for the sake of explaining, here's a chart of the Texas week vs. the Doha week.  Disregard all time differences for a moment.

Texas Day	Doha Day	Explanation
Monday	Sunday	First day of work week
Tuesday	Monday	Work day
Wednesday	Tuesday	Hump day
Thursday	Wednesday	Work day
Friday	Thursday	Weekend is here!
Saturday	Saturday	Day to relax, do chores
Sunday	Friday	Day for church/mosque and family

So you see that the work week has some overlap, but the rhythm of how things progress is a full day off ("Monday" or the busy day of trying to get back on track and make progress is actually "Sunday" here).  After hump day (Weds in Texas but Tues is Doha), the week starts to wrap up.  Doha's holy day comes first--before their "Saturday."


Now throw in the time difference.

We are currently 8 hours ahead of Texas.  However, Doha does not practice daylight savings time, so in October, when Texas "falls back," we will be 9 hours ahead.  That means that when we get to work on the first day of the work week (7:30 AM Doha time on a Sunday), it is actually 11:30 PM Saturday night in Texas.  When we are out partying on the last day of the week (9 PM Thursday night in Doha), it's the middle (1 PM) of the Thursday workday in Texas.   When Qataris are in "church" (mosque), it's 10 AM on Friday in Doha.  That means they're at church/mosque at 2 AM Friday morning Texas time.

As I am writing this, John is at work on the first day of the week...while in Texas, you are asleep on your way to Sunday morning church/family time.

Beyond wallowing my own little OCD issue, I think this is fascinating because you have a home campus (TAMU-College Station) that must on occasion coordinate and must frequently communicate (typically via email, I would guess) with this campus in Qatar.  The situation leaves just an hour or two (8-10 AM Texas time/4-6 PM Doha time), three days per week (Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday) when people are at work at the same time.  Thinking of the bureaucracy, especially at the giant main campus, it's pretty amazing that anything ever gets worked out.

And hence, it is also not so amazing that I am in a state of not knowing what day or time it is.

Falcons and Scorpions and All Around Awesomeness:Another Trip to Souq Waqif

I have decided that Souq Waqif is one of my favorite places ever.  Even if I am lucky enough to visit 100 more countries in my life, I think this will remain one of my favorites.  The architecture and the smells and the interesting people and the exotic things...for your Harry Potter people, it is truly the Diagon Alley of the Middle East.  Next time we go I'll try to get a photo of the narrow corridors of shops.  (Taking photos here is tricky--it is very rude to photograph women and children especially--and while the locals are generally rather patient and generous with visitors, we don't want to look like dolts.)

This Thursday (which is like Sunday in the US--Mosque in the morning and then family activities in the evening), we went out looking for a couple of small furniture purchases.  No luck on that, but we decided on the spur of the moment to go back to the main souq.  We arrived at about 4:45, which is perfect--parking is still available but the sun has moved to an angle where the heat is starting to subside and shade is more abundant.  It's still warm (~110 F in the late afternoon) but the heat is dry and after surviving highs around 120 during the day, it feels like some relief.

Here are some pictures from that adventure.

John grabbed this picture of the main "street" (no cars, just pedestrians) through the Souq.  The two women on the right have their backs to us, which is okay (not as rude for us to take the shot).  On this main central street/aisle are many restaurants and sheesha (flavored tobacco) bars.  It's where people come to hang out for dinner, smoking, etc.  The tobacco smells like flowers or fruits, with only a slight hint of the cigarette stench one is typically used to.  Hank doesn't like the smell of sheesha, but I think it's sort of an interesting part of the souq.  It's one of the smells that identify the place.  To the left and right off of this main passage are hundreds of booths and stalls lining dozens of much smaller interior passages.  The inside of the souq stays cooler both because of the construction materials/methods and because some areas are air conditioned.

This is the inside of one nice shop.

We are having some traditional Arabic seats made for our upstairs "den/playroom."  The seats/small couches have a wooden base, about 10 cm off the floor, and a back (I think the back is 50 cm tall?).  This base is covered in a traditional woven material (see the bolts of it on the left?).  Then cushions (another 10 cm thick) are made to go on the seats and back.  Additional rectangular cushions are made for arm rests.

Hannah, John, and a better shot of the fabric bolts.  Our seats will have a red pattern covering the wood with a complementary red solid for the seat/back cushions. Red is apparently the more traditional of the colors.

"Five thousand riyales for the bird.  Special today: crazy girlchild free with purchase."

Falconry is a traditional and popular (and expensive) sport here.  Souq Waqif includes a number of falconry shops, and most of them sell live birds.  The birds are very well cared for.  Hannah is actually touching the back on this one.  They removed his hood, so we could see the whole bird, but then recovered him for the close proximity to yummy little lollipop fingers... I couldn't get my phone camera to work, and a nice British gentleman took the photos and then emailed them to John.  Yea for technology and friendly people!

Also in the falconry shop were some live desert scorpions.  This one was really fat, and we wondered if it was pregnant.  Just looking at the picture gives me the willies.

And thus is the eventual outcome of a visit to the magical Souq Waqif...

Yes, The Ice Cream Tastes Exactly the Same

Happy to see something familiar.  And cold.  And out of the sun.

I wish I could pronounce it (and translate it) in Arabic...but the lemon-shape is all we needed.

An enlargement of the menu, which has some things in common with a Texas DQ and some things are different.  For example, on the breakfast menu is "ultimate hashbrowns" which seem to be covered in stir-fried bell peppers?

The prices are in Qatar Riyales, and the exchange rate (which is set) is $1 USD = 3.64 QR.  So a 15 QR cheeseburger meal (no bacon!) costs about $4.12 USD.  No sales tax.

While We're Discussing Fixtures...

Hannah and I have had two major bathroom adventures in the last few days.  While we've grown used to the ever-present bidets and added hand-held squirters that are in every bathroom in the country, we were both a little surprised to go to a restaurant serving Western food and find NO TOILET PAPER.  No toilet paper roller. No hand towels.  No tissue paper.  Nada.  Toilet + squirter + sink + soap.  The reason for visiting the ladies loo was not to be dismissed, so we had to deal with the situation head-on.  I won't go into details, but suffice to say it was awkward.

BUT

NOT

AS 

AWKWARD 

AS

THIS

also found in a very Western-style mall:

One of my friends, who is American but grew up in this region, calls this a squat pot.  I believe they are common in Asian countries, but I'm not sure.   It is made of porcelain, and you put one foot on each side of the opening, squat down, and do your business.  There was no clear bar or rope or any means of keeping your balance (the small while tube you see on the back right had to do with keeping the facilities clean). On the far left is on of the hand-held sprayers I mentioned above.

So we were in the mall, and Hannah declared that a potty trip was necessary.  I took her to the mall's restroom, and upon entering the stall, this is what we found.  She had to go RIGHT NOW, so we did not pause to wait for another stall to come open.  Instead, I just whispered the procedure in her ear, and she looked at me incredulously.  Even at home, we very very rarely stop for kids to pee on the side of the road.  Even on long road trips, they know to hold it until the next town.

So we attended to the task without further discussion. Of course, then I had to grab my new smart phone and take a picture, because I'm just tacky and adventurous enough to find it important.

We still don't know why there was a fresh green bean on the floor on the right...

Doha Logic: Hot and Cold

Shortly after we all arrived on the 30th, John made a passing comment to me: "hey--the hot and cold on the faucets are all backwards."  I had about 497 other things going through my head at that moment, so I'll confess I just let the comment enter my ear and go straight to the black-hole storage container known as my brain.  A couple of days late, I looked carefully at the faucets, and everything looked normal to me, so then I decided either I didn't hear things right or John is crazy...Of course, all the on-off switches are wackbards here (lights are off when the switch is up), so the whole thing already has me confused.

Here's a picture of a faucet.  Hot on the left, cold on the right.  Looks normal, huh?

Well, it would be normal...except for this:

On the left is the water tank for our house.  Every house has one of these.  I'm not sure how they fill them...I think from a pipe under ground.  It's like our own private water tower, except it's only about 8 feet tall.  Notice the top of the tank.  I'm not sure what those little castle-like ridges are around the top.  I suspect they're simply for architectural "camoflauge," as these are typically put on top of houses/buildings.  Notice also that our own private water tower (still on the left) is located in an enclosure in our back yard.  Notice that the enclosure is open to the sun.  Notice that the temperature here is typically in the 110's to 130's in the summer.  Today, the temperature at noon is 43 C, which is 104 F.  Humidity is 48%. With the heat index, the current temperature is 50 C, which is 127.4 F.  Think about that water...sitting there in that tank on the left...in the sun...

Then consider our hot water heater, pictured on the right.  It's housed in a small, covered (typically with the door closed) concrete shed right next to the water tank.  The hot water heater sits in the dark all day.  It's insulated.  Ponder that.

I bet you've figured it out by now!  Yes, the practice (and logically and rightfully so) here is to turn off your hot water heater and use it as a water "cooler."  So you turn the faucet (or washing machine or shower) on hot to get cool water and on cold to get steaming hot water. 

Today, I washed all the white towels on the "cold/cold" setting. 

I'm still not sure what to do about the dishwasher...put it on energy saver?

Now I'll leave you to ponder what that means when you flush a toilet.

I Like Dates

Most likely, dear reader, you're already aware that dates are both common and ancient in the Middle East. If you are like me, however, you may have some confusion about just what these little boogers are, and how to use them. Some of you (this was me a year ago) may have mistakenly believed that dried dates are the same as a prune (Not true. Not even close to true).

Date palms have been cultivated for thousands of years, and are an integral part of culture here. They are mentioned repeatedly in the Holy Qur'an, and in fact there is a Hadith about the Prophet's favorite kind (Ajwah - mildly sweet and very black when dried). There are many, many different kinds (over 300 varieties in Saudi Arabia alone) and different ways to prepare and use them. Much to the confusion of my trying to learn Arabic, that means there are a thousand words to use to describe them all.

Kimri (unripe), Khalal (full sized but still crunchy), Rutab (soft and ripe), and Tamr (ripe but sun-dried) are the ways you can find them. I think there are even names for when they're in between stages.

I find that I like the smaller sun-dried (tamr), firm, and sweet ones - I'm especially fond of a type called Safawi that you can buy packaged at grocery stores.

I keep wanting to try the Ajwah, but these are QUITE expensive and I just haven't spent the money yet. We did go to the Omani Souq and buy two types in bulk (by the Kg), both somewhere between khalal and rutab.

Yes, they're looking a little funky (especially the yellow ones) but the mushy-looking stuff is the best part.

The Omani Souq is a whole other blog entry, as it is a very smelly place of joy and wonder. Hannah walked through it with me while everyone else stayed in the Pajero and covered their noses. You see, dear reader, among the other myriad of items to be found there is sundried fish (like whole, and sundried means literally dried out right there. In the sun). You can smell it from blocks away. But just for a teaser:

Khalas (It is finished).

Food Shots from NRLS

Some people are talented gardeners and some of us just want to take photos of and eat the stuff that the gardeners grow.  While I loved learning about our veggie garden in Texas (and very much want to have another veggie garden one day), I moreso fall in the latter of the two roles mentioned above.  So now for my fellow foodies, here's some stuff...

Fresh-baked bread abounds here, from all sorts of bakeries.  The little market near our house sells stuff from a Korean bakery. Very fine sandwich bread.  And yes, they get Skippy in Doha.

Yummers from the Arabic bakery next door to one of the restaurants that serves camel meat (John posted a photo of it and the barber shop/saloon a while back).  These were varieties of tea-cakes (sponge-type cakes with cream frosting fillings).

As the Stewarts say: HOLY SCHNIKIES.  This is the standard sort of "Tex-Mex" around here.  The odd thing is that you can find it (hummus, tabbouleh, fatoush, etc.) in many, many restaurants, but I had to go to four huge Western groceries and two small local markets to finally get the "take home" version.  This trio of lovelies was procured from Lulu Hypermarket, a big beautiful grocery/Walmart type carrier of everything from paper towels to lentils (red beans, yes...pintos, no!).  No dryer sheets either (and the static electricity shock from a Persian Gulf clothes dryer is not insignificant).

The top photo is, from left to right, chopped olive salad (sliced green and black olives, tiny diced yellow and red and green bell pepper, whole kernel corn...maybe with a tiny bit of olive oil, but not much), then tabbouleh (parsley salad with fine chopped tomatoes), and standard hummus.  The Arabic flat bread shown above was STILL WARM IN THE PACKAGE when we took it off the shelf.

Now, different folks would maneuver this creation using a wide variety of methods.  I'm sure, like how and where to pile salsa, there's a "normal" method, but in my own home, I am not concerned with normal...and I make all sorts of obscene moaning noises when I eat something fantastic...and this is truly fantastic.  So I schmeeeeeeer hummus on the flat bread, add a couple tablespoons of tabbouleh  and about a quarter cup of that olive salad).

We hear that there are special stores where the native Qataris go for especially heavenly hummus.  Oh my...

Garden Shots for PAYS

Each of my loved ones has special talents--most of have many special talents, in fact--and John's Mom (P.A.Y.S.) has a true gift for gardening.  Her backyard looks like something out of a magazine, and she provides all the sweat equity to make it that way.  B.J.S. helps, too.  Their back yard is amazing.  She is also fearless--moving plants from pot to ground, repotting, splitting, using natives, trying out non-natives, maintaining incredible rose bushes.

John certainly inherited some of this skill, and as soon as he got to Doha, he started working to improve our tiny back garden/yard. When he got here, it was patches of spotty/dying grass.  He has worked with one of the compound gardeners, a gentleman named Guru (who also has folks that work for him), to get our oasis underway.  Guru knows magic, too--he does things like splitting off bougainvillea and moving plants from one area of the compound to another.  John has spotted a small palm  growing outside the compound that he's going to try to talk Guru into digging up and potting.  I know my place in all this machinery: stay out of the way and watch the cool stuff happen (taking some extra photos along the way).

Here are some gardening photos for Pat and with thanks to Guru, Guru's guys, and John.

John under the table and umbrella he wrangled.

The view from John's chair.  He's standing in the kitchen doorway.

The view from the opposite side of the yard.  Under the two trees (one large, one small) is flowering yellow Dahlia.

Another worker, Samuel, had just washed the brick.  Everything here gets a coating of fine sand dust on it.  I can't imagine the labor involved in keeping this compound (in fact, the whole city) from being ruined by the sand.

Back yard flower hedges and vines (and close-ups below).

Bougainvillea in a pot on the front porch.

Flowering tree in the back yard. 

Flowering small tree/large shrub in the front yard.  It's not a Magnolia--John thinks it's native here.

Potted plant on the front porch.

You may recall John's post on the work ethic here.  These (mostly Filipino) men take enormous pride in what they can accomplish with small budgets/water and big smarts/work/sand/heat.  I think we're pretty lucky to witness the outcomes.