RPH: Sponge Bob Pencil Sharpener

Thank you, Qatar Airways, for the kiddie entertainment pack containing the Sponge Bob Square Pants pencil sharpener.  Without it life would be dull.  HAR HAR.

Habib, Meet Steve Jobs

After three outgoing, friendly days, Habib had been shy again--I'd had the cage door open like a bridge to his stand all morning, and he had been talking and moving around and even coming out to the bridge but was not interested in the perch.

His cage is next to the kitchen as I work. So I thought I would play with him for a while, and he and I started with a good "fight" with his "keys" (it's actually pieces of flat plastic fruit shapes--a teething toy like the key ring things). He goes crazy when I dangle it around, giving great chase and chewing on it like it has seriously done him wrong. Then he came out right next to the stand, and we played "fetch," where I roll the tennis ball to him, he throws it on the floor, repeat X 10.

When that idea was worn out, I grabbed my iPad and turned on Dr. Seuss's "Green Eggs and Ham," a book application for pre-schoolers that reads the words aloud. Habib was *fascinated*! In fact, he was desperate to touch it, to the point of climbing down onto the floor and running over to it. He gave the iPad several nudges with his beak but did not try to bite it or my fingers as I swiped to turn the pages. He has never climbed to the floor to be with me (we're still getting used to one another). It was awesome.

Jack sneaked in and took this picture (attached) at the end, after Habib had climbed back up and was back to just watching. His interest didn't last through the whole book (it's pretty long) but we will be trying this again.

Later that same day, I got to give Habib a head scratch through the cage bars (first time he's let me do that)!

Shootin' the Bird

This is the view out of my office window.  Yes, a WINDOW!  Hello answered prayers for natural light!  It looks out onto a covered patio area, and the window actually opens.  Hello?  I'm on the third floor...reading freshman comp papers risks making me want to jump...  I'll grade from home.

So a very sweet colleague bought me some bird seed, which I put on the sill.  This is one big chicken, and he's spotted black and white. Luckily, he posed for a photo before flying off.

SCORE!

Plenty of Baskin Robins outlets are found around Doha, but until this lucky day, I had never spotted by most favorite bucket of sinful, calorie and fat laden, luscious delicious: PEANUT BUTTER AND CHOCOLATE.  Happy happy happy happy Mama!

Doha Beer Barn

Alcohol is forbidden in Islam, but Qatar makes one allowance for expats: an unmarked liquor store, located right next door to the Ministry of Islamic Affairs.  Isn't that sort of like putting the beer barn next to the Baptist preacher's house?

John procured a license to visit the beer barn, but it closes for Ramadan...so of course in the few days right before the holy month starts, every expat in the country runs makes a booze run.  People come out of this place with Sam's Club sized carts stacked with cases of beer, wine, and boxes of hard liquor. 

We needed one box of cheap white vat, two bottles of bubbly, and a bottle of more respectable red for John.  These are some photos I took while waiting in the car (I can't go in because the license isn't mine). Inside those gates is, indeed, a rather large parking lot, but it was full...so expat booze hounds were spilling out onto the street.

By the way...when you leave with your purchase, you have to drive straight home with it hidden in the trunk or in the back of your car.  If you are caught with it, you can be fined or jailed...yes, even if you have the license.

The Cooking Mystery Concludes... with Success

Presenting two chocolate frosted sheet cakes, a main staple of my grandmother Mamaw.  These were so popular around her small town that she made them almost once a week for weddings, showers, funerals, fire hall meetings, church functions, etc.  I think she got really tired of it by the time she was no longer able.

But you know what?  Labneh instead of milk works just fine.  Lack of measuring spoons, dry measuring cups, or appropriate mixing bowls didn't stop me either...although chocolate did get splattered all over everything.  Yea for success!

I know Mamaw is looking down, proud of me.  And today would be her 98th birthday, so good timing on the post. :)

hello

Hi people! I just wanted to say that I will be doing posts from here on out. You should know me by now. See y'all later.

Respectful but Friendly Parent Names in Qatar

A wonderful thing we learned recently...the friendly but still respectful names for other adults is built on the given name of the eldest son.  You then add "Umm" as a prefix for the Mom and "Bu" as a prefix for the Dad.  Of course, then I have to add my own touch to it.

Which makes us...

Umm Hanky and Bu Hanky.

The original Hanky.

Yes, I know this is problematic in terms of how girls and boys are viewed here...but that's a whole other big can of worms better left closed on the blog.

The Khaliji Host (Generous) & the Texus Girls (Goofballs)

I am not a morning person.

When we don't have anywhere to go, then we have "laundry conservation days."

This means no one gets out of his or her pajamas all day.

This is the least we can do to reduce our carbon footprint.

And all of this is dandy except when you live in a compound where Gurus and Samuels and construction workers and house painters and other random gentlemen suddenly appear in your window at unexpected moments.  Even with my long flannel britches and large t-shirts, I am too old and have had too many children to be spotted in my p.j.s.

So I asked our wonderful Qatari friend, the one who will patiently help me with all the crazy and obnoxious questions I have about living here, what "grown ladies" do here when drinking their morning coffee or tea.  Since modesty is such a huge deal, I might like to adopt local Qatari pajama and morning cover-up tradition.  So he explained that his Mom wears what is called a "jalabiya."  I think this is a generic term for "robe," but I'm not sure.  It's a silk or silk-blend house-robe that can be worn over pajamas.  It's embroidered with fancy threads and even beading.

So I thanked our friend for explaining and thought to myself, "Hmmm...maybe one of these will be on my Christmas list..."  What a nice guy to be willing to explain something so potentially awkward...yes, I basically asked him about a Mid-Eastern mou-mou, and he replied with grace and patience.

And then the next time I saw him, his Mom sent me one (!!!).  This is a prime example of the Qatari hospitality.  As I asked another sweet Qatari friend, this time a young woman, "how do I thank his Mom for her generosity?!?," she replied that no thanks is really needed--his Mom just wants you to enjoy the gift.  Of course, a note is always welcome, but I was advised that home-baked goodies might be liked as well...that leads to the post below...

But first, here's the house robe in action.

Hannah wants a matching one.  I think we're going to have to send John to the fabric store and to the tailor...but this morning, she made due with her Christmas dress from last year...

Hey, a girl has GOT to have her morning tea and the latest Facebook on the iPad before even thinking about being productive.

Cooking Visions and Revisions

What is all this stuff, and what will it be when mixing and heat are applied?

So from the post above, you'll see that I need to do something really nice for Umm Khalid.  I can't think of anything nicer than making her something from my own kitchen.  Of course, getting the supplies to even make the thank-you nom-noms is an adventure unto itself.

A common household activity here is shopping at not one (HEB) or two (HEB + Super Walmart) or even the dreaded trifecta (HEB, Walmart, Target) of stores.  No, women...and I say women because that's who tell me these tales...it may be men, too...visit four or five GROCERY stores as they try to stock their pantries and iceboxes.  The big four are Carrefour, Giant, Family Food, and Mega-Mart.  That is not counting (1) multiple locations for each store or (2) the hundreds of smaller "local" markets scattered all over the place.  My favorite place to shop is about the size of Franklin Market...they have green Tabasco, milk, chicken, fruit/veg, and about 85 tons of chocolate and cookies and other junk food.  But that's a whole other blog post.

So one of my own personal goals is NOT to have to drive all over hell and half o' Doha looking for the right kind of Fruit Loops or Pepperidge Farm Gold Fish.  I figure my habits will form in my first months here, and so far, I've been reasonably successful.

But then I had a vision of cooking for Umm Khalid.  And it took me three different grocery store trips just to gather the stuff you see in the picture above.  That's not counting the butter or eggs. Now, this very day that I'm writing this post, I don't have a bowl to mix it in.  But I have a large square "tupperware" type storage box that may work.  Multi-tasking kitchen items.  I haz 'em.

So now, before I actually try to perform this cooking feat, I'll give you a sample of what I'm up against...
XXX

For the recipe I needed buttermilk.
It doesn't exist in Doha as far as I can tell. 
That stuff on the left is actually "Labneh." 
Sort of read about it here...this is about its strained form and what I'm using looks like thick milk.

XXX

For the recipe, I needed unflavored Crisco.
I have "regular shortening" from Mazola.  Should be the same.

XXX

For the recipe, I needed baking soda.
After hitting my head against a wall for sleeping through CHEM 101 (I was a freshman, and 3-3:50 PM is my nap time!), I bought "sodium bicarbonate," came home and checked Wikipedia to make sure it wasn't rat poison.

XXX

For my recipe, I needed powdered sugar.
I got "sugar powder."  I'm assuming it's the same thing, but once you've looked all over the place for American "powdered garlic" only to find something that looks like flour but tastes like garlic but doesn't function like American powdered garlic, you get a little skeptical that anything is going to work the way you planned it.

XXX

The pecans...oh, the pecans. 
I must publicly thank the Griffins for the precious pecans.
I also must thank the Griffins for the mixer, which was a central requirement.
These can only be purchased here at great expense and (from what I've heard) only around Christmas time.  I pondered substituting walnuts or pistachios or even a mixture of chopped nuts for the pecans, but then I figured, "If Umm Khalid isn't worth going all out, then who is?!?"  Pecans it is.
XXX

I needed American measurements.
But I have European (metric) measurements. 
More self-flagellation for pre-Facebook, pre-texting activities like doodling and passing notes during the 5th grade lesson on metrics!  Also missing from my kitchen: measuring spoons and cups.  I do have a 5-cup pyrex thingy. That's going to have to be the beaker.
 XXX
 Fahrenheit.  I need Fahrenheit.
I have Celcius AND a convection oven.  Sigh.
$10 USD says it's going to be burned...

XXX
I'm sure I'll get used to all of this, but for now, the adventures continue...

Bird Watching

I am so thankful we have Habib--he is a "person" we can all talk about and talk to and laugh over...because sometimes I think we are getting a little tired of just looking at each other...

We had a couple of "blah" days with Habib last week.  He seemed out of sorts, which was especially disappointing since I spent quite a while one day scrubbing his cage and changing his toys.  Our main struggle had been getting Habib to and from his stand/perch (outside of his cage).  He wants to sit on top of his cage instead, which is a position of territorial dominance.  In addition to trying to get him to his perch, I had been wanting to work on hand training him.  He would step up on his previous owner's hand and hadn't bitten her in quite a while, and I want him to have a good quality life.  I feel sort of pressured for him to have all the sorts of interactions he was used to before.  Of course, he's in a new place and I'm not the sweet lady he bonded to.

So we had some nipping and grumpiness last week...both from him and me.  Then I read online that changing their toys (even with toys that may already be familiar) is a big source of stress for Greys. I got some great advice from other Grey owners online, put his toys back except for one change out, and backed off of pushing him so much at once.

We're working on only getting to the stand/perch out of his cage without difficulty, and he's had three great days in a row of doing that with no fussing or drama.  He's happy to sit and watch the chaos, and he'll even let me carry the perch into the living room (which considering that must feel unstable, I think that's a good sign of trust).  Yesterday, he sat on his perch and watched a cartoon with the kids, and then he watched me and Hannah put together a 200-piece puzzle.  I caught him with his foot pulled up and his eyes closed (napping) a couple of times...a great sign of contentment.

One thing he really loves is sitting in the window watching his feathered cousins fly free outside.  He flaps along with them a lot.  I imagine that he misses his own freedom, but at least he's not struggling through the August heat right now.  Instead, he's playing "psst psst psst...peekaboo!" with me through his maroon cage cover.

We've started feeding the birds in the back yard.  John fashioned me a bird bath, from a plant stand and a large terra cotta pot bottom. We bought pigeon feed at the souq, and I've been hanging on to stale bread (drying it so it will crumble easily).

John is my bird man, so I can't tell you what types these are other than something sparrow-like, something with a tuft, and some sort of pigeon.  Notice how wild and woolly the flowers have gotten in the background.  That, along with our backyard oasis of green grass and bougainvillea, makes me smile every day.  I'll try to get a picture of Guru, the Nepalese man who uses his talent to make John's excellent visions come true.

Can Yuh Traslate That to Redneck?

Every morning, I wake up to one of these text messages on my phone.  For all I know, it could say "pay your bill or we're coming on camelback for your oldest son!"  Every morning, I delete it.  And hope that any *important* messages will be sent in Arabic and in English...

Posted by JSS: Camel Sign and Camel Wagons

This was written and posted by Your Correspondent, JSS...In our collaborative adventures, it just got published under my name (The Lecturer)...and now, back to the show...

Above another RPH (random photo from here) which we took on the way out to the camel race track but that is strangely appropriate for what I want to write about today. And as with all sign (camel sign, bear sign, whatever), one should be careful where one steps.

So, I've believed for a long time that each and all vehicles possess certain traits, attributes, and even personifications, and clearly every machine has a personality. Maybe it's like animals where the owner takes on the pet's attributes after awhile, but maybe that's beyond the scope of what I want to avoid stepping in here.

I've had some pretty cool vehicles over the years, and I've associated each one with an animal. One was a drought horse (Ford truck), another was a goofy white dog (a Dodge), and I've had a sturdy little mule (Toyota Tacoma). Nancy has had an elephant in a tutu, but that's another story altogether (ahem, ahem). Anyway, the way a vehicle drives is usually reminiscent to me of some living being. Nancy's elephant was a huge white Bluebird bus. Close your eyes and imagine and you might see what I mean.

Over here we've leased our first vehicle, it's a Mitsubishi Pajero (aka Montero in the US) and is maroon. Really it's burgundy but as Aggies we can't call it that. Burgundy is so, well, Soonerish. It's a good reliable car and we all fit into it and can still carry groceries. It's kind of skinny and long and tall and it sways as it goes down the road. It's not very quick or fast but it doesn't drink all that much gas and the heat doesn't seem to bother it. It has a sort of humped back look to it, and the font grill is something only a mother could love.

We call it our camel wagon.

Do you see it? The resemblance????

What's she DOING?

I have no idea what this is.

Another RPH

Doha Pink Time

Taken standing on a wobbly plastic chair, balanced half on bricks and half in the flower bed, standing on my tiptoes, and holding the camera over my head so I could get a picture completely over the back wall.

HEY! You talkin to me?

The Habib Report: Highlights from Weeks 2-3

Habib has been with us between 2 and 3 weeks now, and I know he still misses him "Mum" and that she misses him desperately.  That sadness aside, we are really enjoying getting to know him and watching him take in and make peace with our chaos.

Here are a few highlights...

• Habib has started learning to whistle "Colonel Bogey" (a.k.a. The Comet Song or The Bridge over the River Kwai).  A video with the song is below.  I would also like to personally thank Mr. Lancaster of the Chisholm Trail Middle School 6th grade band.  For without him, I would not know this song and Habib would not be whistling it with me.
• He is starting to come out of his cage and sit on or close to his portable stand (with little or no encouragement).
• When I go to his cage, he comes very quickly to see me (out of happiness, not aggression).  He'll very gently take treats from me outside of his cage.  He did give me one very gently "test" bite the other day, but it was not painful, and neither he nor I freaked out.
• He shows kindness and patience to the little boys, who can feed him treats (shelled raw pistachio kernels) through the cage bars.
• He likes John (also takes treats from him).
• He played "soccer" with me on his perch/tray using a tennis ball and a pingpong ball.  That was exceptionally fun.
• He puts on a talking/whistling show every evening and on many mornings.  He'll even do this with one of us in the room if we're sitting quietly.
• He knows the first little intro "ba da ta ba da--dut dut" opening of the Green Acres song.  I didn't teach him that...

 Sitting on the "bridge over the River Kwai" (open door) between his cage and the perch/stand.

Jack has been reading the books on African Greys that Habib's Mom sent home with us, so Jack is our fount of knowledge.  I think Habib is ready for me to let him step up, but I'm still feeling chicken.  I know getting a bite or two is going to just be part of the story, but ohhhhhh, I remember how those can hurt.  The good news is that he doesn't seem to be truly aggressive.  I think he's a sweet, good bird.  The bad news is that even sweet good birds get spooked or annoyed and nip.

The Beach at Al Khor

We are lucky in a lot of ways. One of the main ways is the friendships we are blessed to have.  Back in Texas, we enjoyed getting to know two native Qatari students who were studying "abroad" at the home campus.  They are both some of the nicest, most generous people you could meet.

One of them took us to the beach outside Al Khor, Qatar, a smaller town (also growing rapidly, like Doha) about 25 minutes north of Doha.  The beach is quiet and secluded now, but come October, it will be solidly covered with family tents...a whole city of Qatari family tents.  Families set up camps for 6 months here, to enjoy the beautiful mild winter weather.

While we arrived at about 4:30 PM, the temperature earlier that day had been at least 50 degrees Celsius.  That converts to 122 degrees Fahrenheit, fyi.  This Qatari friend is kind and conscientious about our paleface people, especially the kids.  This is our second trip to a beach with him, and the first time he went out and bought a portable sunshade...like a really nice one...just to have protection.  This time, he brought his 13 year old sister with him...which I took as an incredible compliment, both from our Qatari friend and from his parents...that they would trust us to meet her and be good people.  Of course, the little sister just wanted to meet Hannah!

Here are some photos of the beach and some of the shells we had fun finding.  We also got to see the tide go out, to the point where the dead coral you see sticking out of the water was on dry sand by the time we left.  The dead coral was also home to snails and crabs, which were fun to spot.

Just as much fun was seeing the bluer sky and the stars.  No wind storms in the past few days, and this beach is far enough away from populated areas so the night sky is visible.  We stayed 5 hours, and it was a peaceful, lovely time.  Serious blessing time.

We drove right up to the water's edge.

Shells: that group on the left is the type of oyster that makes pearls.  These were opened (animal dead/gone) and either on dry sand or at the edge of the water...but they all still are "whole," both halves still connected, just opened.  The large pink shell in the middle has a sort of worm-like secondary shell "glued" to it.

More shells (three oyster shells at the bottom).

One Month Later: Eleven Things I Miss

Notice that I didn't say "people I miss," because that would (1) take a novel's worth of writing and (2) make me cry a whole whole bunch.

Important Disclaimers:

• I am only speaking for myself, not for John or the kids.  
• I don't expect anyone to "fix" these things, if indeed they could be fixed.
• Overall, we are so thankful to have this adventure.  

The Small Family of Doha have innumerable things to appreciate here, so while this post may be construed as whining, really it's meant to point out some basic differences of "living here" versus "living there."  I'm also interested to know, in 2 or 5 or 10 or 50 years when I look back on this, if any of these things continued to matter.  My guess is they won't.

Peering outside of our backyard wall.

Now having been in Doha for five weeks, I miss...in no particular order...


Garbage disposals: I know lots of people who don't have these in Texas, but that trade off is living in the country, hopefully on a pretty bit of land where a septic tank is required due to no city sewage.  Then the lack of a disposal is one of the trade-offs for a little peace and elbow room and a nice view out your kitchen window.  My kitchen window looks into my garage, and when I look out my bedroom window, I see the cornerstones of what I think used to be a neighborhood, a worker's shanty camp, and trucks, trucks, and more trucks...along with blowing sand on some days.  So I'm in a highly urban area.  I wish that meant I didn't have to pick rice, soggy fruit loops, grit wads, and other slimy things out of my drain strainer.


Dish Network and AT&T telephone CS representatives: Did your eyebrows fly up into your hairline?  Who, in his or her right mind, would say that?  I'll tell you who: someone who knows that any phone call to any customer service representative is going to result in significant communication issues stemming from both language and cultural differences.  You know the frustration of having to re-explain your problem every time you are required to call back or when you get transferred to someone else?  Now add on to that not being able to understand the person on the other end of the phone (and he/she can't understand you completely either).  Now add on to that people taking the whole month of July off for vacation and not delegating to others in their absence (so their voicemails are full)...  Therefore, instead of facing problems head on, I want desperately to avoid them.  And I have a black-belt in super-advanced avoidance behavior.  I got skillz.

Being invisible: Somewhere in my late 20's or early 30's, I became invisible.  This means that no one notices me unless I scream like a sailor at my children in public, and then they only notice me long enough to wonder if I've forgotten my meds.  In general, people are way too busy chasing their own tails (me, too) to notice a middle-aged woman with 20 extra pounds and a bad home-highlighting job and no desire to wear red lipstick or short-shorts.  But here, my hair color and not having my hair or face covered means I get looked at a lot.  By bus loads of foreign workers.  All of them men.  In jumpsuits.  Who haven't been home or seen a friendly female face in...like...a really really really long time.  So I don't think I've suddenly become some great fresh beauty.  I think it's more the shock of seeing blonde/grey hair and a face. And then sometimes Arab men give me odd looks...I would like to stop one and ask him why (exotic? offensive? big booger/right nostril?) but of course, I'm chicken.

Cheap do-it-yourself hair highlighter: Speaking of my bad do-it-yourself highlighting jobs.  Guess what they don't have in the Middle East?  DO IT YOURSELF HIGHLIGHTING KITS.   They've got plenty of dye kits, but that's not what I want.  I've looked at the four major "Western" groceries, and nada por la bleachy.  Don't tell me those European women are all 100% natural blonds.  I know I can go to a salon and get my hair done, but I think the salons who do highlighting would be "upscale," where the other women there do things like get manicures and wear clothes that cost more than $20 per item...and so then I feel even more self-conscious and peeved at the $150 the highlighting job costs.  I'm thinking of ordering a highlighting kit off of amazon.com for $10 and getting it Aramexed here for the extra $20.

MY kitchen:  The kitchen in our current house is lovely--a mile of granite counter top space, a glass cooktop, stainless appliances.  Yesterday, they replaced our faucet with a lovely new one.  I love the dishes they provided and the stainless utensils.  The cookware is fine.  We have way more cabinet space than we need.  It is spacious and functional.  But it's not my kitchen.  It doesn't have the accumulation of my "appliance of the month" acquisitions.  I love to cook, but now cooking means that I have to buy the supplies to actually make the dish (for example, I had to buy a glass baking pan to make baked chicken salad).   No food processor and no Kitchen Aid mixer limits my adventures.  I don't want to spend hundreds of dollars buying versions of these things for here.  Some "garage sale" shopping will help, but I long for my Franklin kitchen.


Chicken nuggets, pizza pockets, and mac & cheese: Speaking of kitchens...it's not just the appliances but it's the supplies, too.  I have vowed not to stock our house with crap food.  There's plenty available here, so this is all my own doing. But every evening at 5 PM, I look in the icebox and I look in the freezer and I look in the cabinet and I realize: feeding a family the "right" way requires ahelluvalotta thinking and planning and, when you're not adjusted to what's available, creativity and problem solving.  Yes, we are eating pinto beans!  And yes, I am making slow headway but it's a brainstrain.

Big blue sky:  The sky here is sort of a yellow color (dust suspended in the air).  I think everyone would be happier if we had a big old clear limitless cerulean sky.  Maybe if we had wind farms like in West Texas that could blow all the suspended dust away?

Iced tea:  If introducing big blue sky is a pipe dream, then let's be more realistic.  Temperatures in the 110s-130s during the summer.  Sand storms.  Hot curry food.  Why isn't this country addicted to iced tea?  Seriously. Why isn't it available in every restaurant every where all the time?  They did have it at Bennigan's, but nowhere else so far (and we're trying not to frequent American chain restaurants).  I make it at home, but it's not quite the same.

The mail: The school generously lets us use their P.O. box since we get so little mail anyway...but there is something really weird about not getting ANY mail at home.  Like when you leave the house for a trip but are 100% positive you've forgotten to do something (turn off the iron?  turn off the lights?  set the A/C?).  Just discombobulating.

The nightly news:  About 20 years ago I had a vivid dream that I was in my middle school cafeteria and Tom Brokaw was pushing me around in a grocery cart.  I still remember that dream, but I hardly remember Tom Brokaw because we haven't found anything approximating the evening news around here.  The nightly news is like my cue to start dinner and pour a vat.  Without the nightly news, I want to avoid making dinner and pour a vat at 10 AM instead.

School:  I miss this for myself, but TAMU-Q starts classes in a little over two weeks.  I am so excited to meet my students!  But really, my heart is aching for the boys.  Jack had made a good friend, but then that boy's two best buddies got back from vacation, and some sort of mysterious "blow up" meant that Jack is now being ignored by that first friend (and Jack never got introduced to the two other who just returned).  Hank hasn't met any boys his age.  The two of them are being such good sports.  They are not complaining outwardly, but I know this must be frightening and difficult for them.  Nothing to do but wait for school to start...in another SIX WEEKS...and enjoy the fun family time until then. 


Now, to balance my karma, I'll be thinking of a terribly up-beat, happy happy silly silly post for next time.

Dhow Ride!

Prior to the oil and gas boom, Qatar's economy was heavily reliant on pearls and fishing. For a great read on the industry and associated boats, please see Mr. Lockerbie's site by clicking here.  He discusses boats as a form of architecture (and therefore, a reflection of culture).  The traditional boats used for these and other purposes are called "dhow," at least by the expats and those catering to tourist activities in Doha.  Lockerbie has a great story about how the name "dhow" may have come to be...

Anyway, let's get away from all that smart people kind of talk and get back to my normal voice...a couple here, John and Terry, rented a dhow for an hour-long ride last night.  It started at 6 PM (still light) and ended at 7 PM (dark), so we got to watch the city light up at night.  When the dhow was moving, we had a really nice breeze.  According to our car's thermometer, the temperature was 97 degrees when we started on the trip.

The dhow had very comfy couches, covered in traditional Arab fabric.  The boat captain also played very loud music, what John has identified as "Punjabi/Hindi hip hop."  It was festive and inspired Hannah to dance...a lot...and at random times...and sometimes standing in the middle of the boat...and sometimes standing in front of men...  And she had picked out her favorite party dress.  If I didn't know her, I might have yelled "ALL YER MISSIN' IS A POLE!"  But as her Mother, this is really way way way too much to ponder.

Overall, even with the heat and music and dancing and John's anxiety over Hannah falling overboard (really, that would have been Jack's job if he were still four years old), the evening was really a beautiful treat.  We are already talking about when we might rent one this fall or winter and invite others to come along, too.

Here are some photos.

The dhow at the dock, before our ride began.  It held about 25 guests.

The partial skyline of "New Doha."  This is the modern downtown area--by comparison, we definitely live in the 'burbs.  And because this urbanized area is so built up, there's much less sand blowing around everywhere.  That makes where we live the Dusty 'Burbs.  Six or seven years ago, none of these high rises were here.

Hank trying so hard not to smile...

Our Captain Jack.

And the Frequent Boogier.

Hannah showing off her "I can chug while I salsa to Hindi hip hop" maneuver...

Hannah and Nening.

Too old to dance on tables but still having a great time.

New Doha starting to light up at sunset.

Gulf Arab Society Info No, Really...Read This

I've already posted once about this site, catnaps.org--Mr. Lockerbie's research and coverage are better than anything else we've found for this sort of information.  Here's the first page on Gulf Arab society.  Look over on the left for a long table of contents to the different sections, including information on family, society, religion, and dress.

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

RPH: Random Photo from Here,Inaugural Installment

John and I have been talking about doing this for a while:  we are just going to post a random photo from wherever we are--typically Doha...something that we find intriguing or amusing or ironic.  Very little or no commentary required.