A visit from the Queen

Two weeks ago Monday we had a royal visitor at the college. Her Excellency Sheikha Hind bint Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani made her first ever appearance at CNA. As you can see in the photo, she's young, but she's the chair of the Joint Oversight Board - the group who approves or disapproves any initiative proposed by the college. Her mother, Her Highness Sheikha Mozah Bint Nasser Al Missned, is the one under whose patronage the college was established 7 years ago. I'm not 100% clear on what that means, other than she's my "real" boss.

The state of Qatar is officially an emirate. As an emirate, all Qatari decisions are made by the Emir's family. I know very little about the country's ruling family, except that they're all from the Al Thani dynasty and that the current Emir, Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani, seized control of the country in 1995 while his father was on vacation. Sheik Hamad has done much for the country in terms of modernization, women's issues and education. In the three months I've been a resident of Qatar I've heard only good things about this family.

The Emir's wife and daughters are active in education-based initiatives in the country, and just reading the list of universities who have campuses in Education City in Doha is enough to convince anyone that they're doing something right.

On a practical level, her excellency's visit meant nothing for me except that I had to wear a jacket to work that day. She toured around the more important and impressive parts of the college such as instrumentation labs and health sciences facilities. Language labs just look like a bunch of computers arranged around a classroom.

Unfortunately I didn't even see her convoy on campus, although one of my colleagues did get a glimpse of her out the window of the classroom she (my colleague) was teaching in. Maybe next time she (Her Excellency) will stop by my office for a cup of tea! :)

Here's the official news story of the Sheika's visit.

EFL or Gr. 5 Science?

From the look of my desk some days this past week, one might think I was an elementary school science teacher. Actually, some days this past week I felt like one!!

My low level EFL class is learning about processes and procedures from Oct. 26-Nov. 6. As part of the electronic resource pack I was given in lieu of a textbook, I have worksheets that describe how to change a flat tire, how to drill a hole, and how to desalinate water, among others. These are all interesting -and more importantly, useful!- things, but paper is boring. So, in preparation for this topic, I spent a couple of days researching things I could actually *do* in the classroom that could then be described by the students in step-by-step fashion. My research (which incidentally started with wikiHow) took me to do-it-yourself science experiment websites. Let me just say these past few weeks have been a lot of fun!

Sunday, I had my students make paper helicopters. The looked at me a little strangely when step 6 was "Stand up and throw your paper," but once a couple of them did it, there was laughter all around. One student did comment, "Teacher, like babies," but I think it's just because he didn't want to admit how much he liked his paper helicopter!

Tuesday, pairs of students magnetized needles and made simple compasses. I gave them each a plastic cup containing a needle, a pin and a short piece of thread. As soon as the students got the materials, they attempted to thread the needles. No matter how many times I said "You don't have to thread the needle. The thread goes around the needle," their determination caused them to ignore me. So I waited until the needles were threaded and then asked them to take the thread out. I got some exasperated looks at that point, but just smiled. They should have been listening!!

This Sunday I showed the class how to roll a can using the "magic" of static electricity. Before my demonstration I asked if anyone could move the can without touching it. One student blew on it and it moved. Another lifted the desk the can was placed on and the can fell off. A third took a pencil and touched it to the can. I was impressed with their ingenuity. A fourth said "I can do it, teacher." So I brought the can to his desk and his hand immediately reached for it. I snatched it away and said "you can't touch it." "Ok, ok, teacher." So I put it back on his desk and again the hand went straight for the can, and again I rescued it just in time. "Don't TOUCH the can." "(smiling) Ok, teacher. Don't touch." But that smile said it all - after a third time through this little exercise I decided it was time for me to demonstrate my method - and for them to write down the steps...this time in both the active and passive voices!

Tomorrow will be the last demonstration. I'm going to stick a needle in a balloon without popping it - HOPEFULLY!! I have been practicing, but you never know...

The above-mentioned worksheets were also completed, but after describing something they could see and do. These students will go on to become process operators and mechanical technicians in the oil industry; they're hands on kind of guys! I think it's important to exploit that characteristic whenever possible. I believe it so much, in fact, that during the unit on describing objects (shape, material, use, etc.) I carried a big box of different items to class each day. I got a lot of comments and looks as I walked around campus carrying my big box brightly wrapped like a birthday present! No one seemed to say anything yesterday, though, when I was carrying a red balloon with the words "Happy Birthday" written on it. I guess all those who care to comment go home before 4:30! :)

I also experimented with pinhole cameras using Pringles cans (how to see something upside down without standing on your head), making waves in bottles filled with water, food colouring and mineral oil, and writing messages with invisible ink. None of these made it to class because each was either a little too complicated or didn't work as well as I had hoped. But I had fun doing grade 4 science experiments at the dining room table!!

Celebrating Hallowe'en Wanasa-Style

Some of our friends got into the Hallowe'en spirit this year by dressing up and attanding a Mobsters & Molls ball. They had dresses made and judging by their facebook pictures, looked great and had a good time. The extent of my hallowe'en celebrations was a 20-minute learning activity where my students described how to carve a pumpkin in class. (They're studying processes and procedures this week.) So for Hallowe'en I was a Canadian expatriate living in Qatar. Original, no?

But that doesn't mean I didn't celebrate at all this weekend. Thursday night there was actually a party for ladies being held at the college campus. It was called a Wanasa Night. I heard about it weeks in advance and wondered what Wanasa meant. I asked my class and they had a hard time explaining. Keep in mind that I teach what is currently the lowest level of English on campus. The conversation went something like this:

Larissa: What is "waSAna"?
Students: What wasana, teacher?
L: (looks at paper where she had written the word) No, WaNAsa. What is wanasa?
S: (Laughing) Wanasa! You want to know wanasa! (laughing)
L: Why is it funny?
S: No, wanasa is...uh...wanasa!
L: Oh, thank you!
S: Teacher, he (pointing to a student who came in late) is Wanasa.
L: Wanasa means late?
S: No, he happy, he smile, he wanasa.
L: Wanasa means happy?
S: Happy, smile, wanasa.
L: So if I am happy, can I say "I am wanasa"?
S: Not only happy. Teacher, the class - wanasa. The party - wanasa....

This went on for a few minutes. I think I finally deduced that wanasa is a concept, similar to entertainment or enjoyment. At least that's what I've decided to believe.

A couple of female students were handing out flyers to the party the week before. I saw them in the hall and they passed me a flyer. I had heard that at women-only parties the women usually got dressed to the nines. I mentioned that I didn't have a fancy dress and they assured me there was no dress code. They were absolutely right! I saw everything from people in jeans to people in evening gowns. My friend, who actually gave me a ride, wore a gorgeous purple and gold sequence-lined silk gown, and another lady who came in her car with us wore cords! I went out and purchased a sleeveless top to go with a skirt I already had in honour of the evening. You gotta take advantage of opportunities to show your shoulders around here! As it turns out I was cool with the air conditioning so I wore my wrap the entire night, but every now and then I'd let it drop, just because I could!! :)

The party itself was very interesting. There were two fashion shows: the first involved traditional clothing from India, Pakistan, and Sudan, as well as a local Qatari designer's abayas. It was so intersting to see the abayas being paraded before us and noticing the differences between them. One would think they're all just housecoat-like coverings, but there are different shapes, fits and embellishments. I found them very beautufil.

The second fashion show - which came after dinner and some dancing - featured what they called "hip hop clothing". The same students who had paraded the abayas now modeled jeans, short skirts, and cropped parkas. Yes, parkas.

The dinner was a full buffet with a variety of arabic dishes. My plate ended up being much fuller than I had intended, mostly because there were so many foods I hadn't tried but thought looked good. To drink I had half a can of green apple Mirinda which was flourescent green and contained absolutely nothing found in nature, I'm sure!

While we ate a Qatari woman sang. There was a male DJ hidden behind some makeshift walls who was pumping music out so loudly that many of the Canadians could be seen with kleenex in their ears in order to cope. The singer had a lovely voice, but it was much too loud. The woman sitting beside me said at weddings it's even louder. As this woman sang, different students would get up and dance on the stage. They were lovely to watch, for the most part. These ladies were all great dancers, and took advantage of the freedom afforded them in an all-female environment.

Besides this impromptu dancing, there was a dance competition. A woman performed a gorgeous belly dance to an Egyptian song that inspired me. Having taken 2 belly dancing lessons ourselves, a colleage and I felt qualified to analyze her moves. We identified a couple of "bumps" and a "drop" or two, as well as some "cabaret" steps! :) A couple of girls did a hip hop dance and they were excellent as well.

The attendees were probably half and half students and staff. I enjoyed the conversation around the table, as well as seeing the young ladies enjoy themselves.

By the time I got home I was exhausted from a long day. Remember I catch the 6:20 bus most mornings! Unfortunatley when I got off the elevator I realized that my door key was in my school bag that I had left at home!! Darren was out with a group of people so I gave him a call and begged him to come home. Within an hour I was in bed, having not celebrated Hallowe'en, but having experienced Wanasa!

Staying home and going out

The weekend is quickly drawing to a close. The funny part is that I'm writing this at 11:42 am Saturday morning Ontario time!

Last weekend felt like it started on Friday morning, since Thursday we were helping with the rummage sale setup. Once we got home around 10 that evening, we didn't leave the apartment again except on Saturday night to do some grocery shopping. It seemed like everyone we tried to make plans with (ok, the 2 people we tried to make plans with) were already busy, so we just stayed home and relaxed. Sometimes you need plans that involve others in order to muster up the motivation to go out. I don't remember what we did, but it probably involved Elebits and Skype calls to Canada. I know that I wasn't too upset about our lack of outings - that was my "homebody" side kicking in!

This weekend was just the opposite. Thursday morning Darren and I made plans to go see a movie that evening. He had been wanting to see the new Coen brothers movie and we've heard that the length of time a movie plays in Doha is pretty unpredictable. So we thought we'd jump at the chance to see the flick at the nearby theatre. But then Darren got a call from our friend Michael who invited him (and then later me) to join him on a trip to a Qatari family farm. This invite came minutes before another friend called and asked if we wanted to join them (and a bunch of others, I'm assuming) at the Doha Rugby Club's Oktoberfest celebrations. Who would have thought we'd have 3 things to do in one night!

We ended up going to the farm, and did not regret the decision for one moment. This past Thursday night was one of my favourite experiences in Qatar to date. You can read all about it over at Darren's blog.

Friday Darren could have gone to the wedding of a relative of a man we met at the farm. That sentence IS as confusing as it reads! But we had already planned on attending a Dhow trip with some colleagues and other local expats (they knew each other; it wasn't just a random group of people). A Dhow is a traditional Arabic boat that was originally used for sailing or fishing. It's now used for tourism. It was so nice to be out on the sea, feeling the breeze and even swimming a little! Fresh air is somthing we don't get a lot of in Doha since we're often indoors, so I've got to enjoy it whenever I can find it!

Today we rested. I didn't even get out of bed until after 10 am! A little cleaning, a little cooking, a little game playing, a little reading and the day has gone. Darren is currently out getting a hair cut and doing the necessary grocery shopping while I type this. This evening we'll have some dinner, listen to a podcast from the Meeting House and iron some clothes for the morning. That will have been our weekend!

It feels so good to be invited somewhere. However, it doesn't feel better to be invited to two places at the same time! At least that's how it is with me. Perhaps it's due to the fact that I hate making decisions almost as much as I hate disappointing people. Fortunately it doesn't happen very often!

Next weekend looks like it could be a full one, too - as long as my homebodyness doesn't kick in again! Stay tuned to find out! Hopefully it will involve a nice mix of relaxation, excitement and new experiences!

Convenience vs. well, everything else!

My cubicle neighbour and his wife rented a car for the week in order to explore the city a little more independently. His comment was, "Once you get behind the wheel again, you realize how much you need it!"

But we don't want to need a car.

Yes, it would be very convenient to be able to go places on our own schedules, but it's not a need. Having a car would save us the trouble of asking for a ride, but it's not a need.

I must admit, there are times when it sounds tempting to return to the independent days of car ownership. But then I recite to myself the reasons we've decided to remain a carless family:

1. Traffic: The traffic here is much different that it is at home. There are rules of the road, but they're not the same rules we're used to. I'm sure I could learn these new rules, but it requires more aggressive driving - something I'm not good at and the very reason I try to avoid driving even in Toronto!
   
   
2. Environment: Although it often doesn't seem like it, each person can make a difference. One less car on the road means slightly fewer harmful emissions being distributed into the atmosphere. This is especially true around here where the majority of the vehicles on the road are SUVs.
   
   
3. Expense: Part of our reason for coming here is to save money. A car is an additional expense that we simply don't need at this time.
   
   
4. Hassle: Owning a car means taking care of it. And in this dusty environment, that means more filter changes and car washes than at home. Also, there are lots of accidents every day, and vehicles in accidents need to be fixed or replaced. And let's not forget the initial hassle of purchasing the car, getting the financing (which means getting a loan from a local bank), registering the vehicle...and each of these things requires a letter from my employer and what seems like a stack of paperwork.
   

Since not having a vehicle (for the first time in almost 10 years) I have also noticed unexpected benefits:

1. Humility: It is humbling to always be asking for rides, especially when we're so used to the independence associated with our own vehicles.
   
   
2. Relationships: Wherever we go, we drive with someone. On the bus to work, I talk with my colleagues. When driving with friends, we have nice conversations. Even taxi rides become a chance to meet someone new.
   
   
3. Reduced stress: Driving to work has never been so easy. All I have to do is make sure I'm on the bus at 20 past the hour and that's it. I can read, I can doze, I can chat with people - even in the middle of a traffic jam, I feel no stress!
   
   
4. Exercise: Going grocery shopping, depositing a cheque, paying a bill, mailing a letter, going out for dinner - all these activities now give us a chance to get a bit of exercise. Granted it's not much exercise, but a 10-minute walk is better than no walk at all!
   

If we ever have children, we'll move out to a villa. That's where the college houses the families. There having a car will become a need as there is nothing within walking distance and I refuse to put a child's life in danger on a bicycle on these crazy streets. So that leaves taxis, which don't come equipped with car seats. (In fact, the only car seats I've seen used in the entire city are in westerners' cars!)

But for now, we're happy to be a carless family. And hopefully if we do rent a car for a weekend or a short vacation, we won't feel the need to keep it! If I do, I'll just reread this post from James' blog - it will be just the motivation I need to maintain my resolve to live without a car.

Learning about Pearls

Darren and I joined the Qatar Natural History Group (QNHG) on Wednesday. It's an international group of people living in Qatar and who have an interest in the natural history of the area. Once a month members gather to hear a talk on an area of interest, and there are also monthly field trips to places around Qatar. Often these field trips are led by amateur botanists, archaeologists, geologists- people who have some knowledge of a particular area and are willing to share it. For example, at the end of the month there's a trip to visit the Desert roses.

The talk given at Wednesday's inaugural meeting for this season was well worth the 30QR membership fee! Hubert Bari gave a talk entitled The Water World is an Oyster. He is a pearl expert, author and exhibition curator. I believe he is currently the curator of the pearl collection at the National Islamic Museum.

This is what I learned about pearls:

• Any shell can make a pearl.
• Pearls are made of the same material as the shell, so the colour of the shell matches the colour of the pearl.
• Pearl material is made by the mantle, which is attached to the edge of the shell.
• Natural pearls are created when an intruder enters an oyster. The oyster's mantle creates shell material to envelop the intruder and protect the animal from the intrustion. These are often attached to the shell, kind of like a blister.
• Free pearls (the round ones that are not attached to the shell, and that we make pearl necklaces out of) are created when a worm larvae enters the opening in the oyster and heads to the centre of the oyster. It takes with it a piece of mantle that divides and conquers the larvae. This larvae usually comes from the excrement of stingrays (at least in Tahiti).
• Pearling as an industry is basically nonexistant in the present day. As a result, the collection of natural pearls worldwide is not growing, making those that exist extremely valuable (and unaffordable!). "Real" pearls that are purchased nowadays are almost all cultivated.
• Mikimoto, the Japanese man usually credited with discovering the process of pearl cultivation, was not the first to cultivate pearls, but was the first to patent and commercialize it.
• The Chinese use a different process than bead pearl cultivation (the "Japanese way"), and can cultivate up to 50 pearls from a single oyster.

Not only was the talk informative, but the speaker was entertaining. He said the "guts" of the "animal" move the pearl around by "belly dancing," and that the Chinese take pieces of mantle and roll it like we do with "nose stuff" (i.e. snot) before inserting it into the oyster. He was both knowledgeable and endearing.

I have a new appreciation for the pearl now, and although I'm not about to go out and buy a string of them, I will definitely look at them differently from now on. And I'm very glad we joined the group!

Bending for charity

So apparently I'm an old woman. I woke up this morning and just about every muscle in my body was aching. That's a bit of an exaggeration, but my back and arms are "feelin' it". Feeling what? I wish I could say it was the result of an intense spinning class yesterday or something, but in fact I'm all tuckered out from an evening of sorting. Yup, sorting.

This morning there was a rummage sale at one of the compounds where college employees live. It was not a college event; it just happened to be held there. The event was advertised on the Internet, in schools, and in the newspaper so people from all walks of life were expected.

The purpose of the sale was threefold:

1. It allows people to get rid of their stuff. Because people are always coming and going in this country, there is a lot of stuff discarded when contracts end and people who have built lives here over 3 years repatriate.
   
2. It gives people who need household items, clothing, reading material, etc. to get it at reduced prices. This is especially good for the expatriate community who have jobs here that do not pay as well as mine.
3. Money is collected for charity. All the proceeds of the sale go to a local group that helps people in need.

So you'd think this is the kind of thing I'd like to support. Surprisingly, we didn't go to the rummage sale. It was on the other end of the city on a Friday morning - the absolute worst time of the week to get public transportation. Even if we could get a taxi to bring us there, we'd be kind of stranded. Describing to a driver where to come to pick us up to return us to our home would be close to impossible since we don't really know where this compound is in relation to other things in Doha.

Instead, we helped set up last night. Darren and I took a different bus from the school - causing each of the "regulars" who got on after us to question whether they were on the right bus, since they didn't recognize us.

Besides the organizer - and the carload of stuff she had brought from her villa - we were the first to arrive at the clubhouse where everything was taking place. Darren and I got started sorting right away - I separated the clothes by gender and he divided the rest of the stuff into its respective categories (household items, books & DVDs, children's items, shoes...) around the room. Slowly, others came and were introduced to Darren to be put to work - he's a natural leader, folks. I eventually migrated to the shoe/luggage section when the tables arrived. When that was done, I'd pick up a random bag and deliver its contents to wherever it looked like they belonged. Besides the odd water break, this is how we spent the next 4 1/2 hours.

I really wish we had taken pictures of the progress of the evening. As soon as we would clear out a section of the room, it would get filled up again with boxes and bags of stuff. Eventually we had to request a second room just to hold all the books and DVDs. And it was finally decided to keep all the clothes in three large piles on the floor (men's, women's, and children's) for people to sort through - since despite our best efforts to organize them by size, and type, that's how they'd end up after a half an hour anyway.

There was a wide variety of people helping. There were a few Canadians, a number of Brits, at least one Irish woman and people from all over Asia and the Middle East. Darren spent some time talking to the guy who delivered the tables and who was from Lebanon. There was a lady from India who was helping with the sorting, and a couple from Nepal who were also helping and selling plants. We ended up getting two small pepper plants for our apartment while supporting people who send the proceeds back to Nepal!

When we got home around 9, we were exhausted. We hadn't eaten (besides some "timbits" a kind couple had brought with them) since lunch and I sure wasn't about to cook! Darren picked up a pizza, we ate it and promptly went to bed.

It was tiring, but many good things came out of the evening. We met some really nice people, we got some physical exercise (does bending count as exercize?) and I picked up a workout shirt! Most importantly, we were able to assist in a really great event that will hopefully help many people living in Qatar.

Ritzin' it up

Quite often over the first 2 years of our marriage, Darren and I would sit down together and discuss what we imagined our future would entail. The discussion inevitably came back to: we're not sure but we know it won't be this (this being whatever we were doing at the time - even if this was good). Never, ever did I imagine my future would include High Tea at the Ritz-Carlton, Doha...but it did!

As has been the tradition for the 7 years in which the college has been operating in Qatar, the new female employees and wives of new male employees were invited to the Ritz for High Tea. It's the college's way of welcoming us, giving us information about the wheres and hows of life in Doha, as well as a way for us to get to know each other a little. Usually this takes place within the first few weeks of being here. However, this year was a little different - with Ramadan falling in September - so the annual Newcomers' High Tea was just a nice social afternoon for the ladies.

It was a lovely afternoon. I enjoyed a pot of Saffron Chai and a three-tiered silver tray of sandwiches, scones and sweets. And of course nice conversation with the ladies at my table.

After the tea, we were divided into groups of 15 and taken on a tour of the hotel. We saw the indoor swimming pool, the outdoor pools, the indoor tennis courts, spa area, a "low end" hotel room, a "low end" suite and the guest clubhouse where for a few extra hundred riyals (between 60 and 100 dollars), guests can enjoy free drinks and snacks 5 times a day.

Throughout the tour I couldn't help but think back to our recent trip to Versailles. The chateau of Versailles demonstrated the incredible decadence of a small group of people (the Royal family) in the midst of an impoverished people (at least for some of the Louis' rules). My tour today showed that not much has changed. To me, the Ritz highlights the decadence afforded some (locals and expatriates from particular countries) who are serviced by people who often live in semi-squalor. However, the major difference is that the tax dollars of the many aren't being used to fund the decadence of the few.

Of course, this exact situation happens all around the world. Consider any developing country's tourism sector and you'll come across rich vacationers in fancy resorts located a stone's throw away from poor neighbourhoods.

I'm not saying it's necessarily wrong for these places to exist - tourism provides employment as well as a solid economic basis in many countries. I'm just saying that not much has changed. And I never thought I'd be experiencing (if only briefly) the decadent life.

Back to work adjustments

I have finished my first week back from the Eid vacation and I'm sure glad it's over. Ever since Ramadan ended, I have home from work each day feeling really tired, and yet I'm no busier than I was at any of my previous teaching jobs.

In an attempt to identify the cause of this fatigue, I came up with the following possible culprits:

• Trying to maintain a decent body temperature in over-air conditioned buildings. Although much better than working in stifling heat, it is draining to feel cold all day long. I have a nice pashmina scarf that I wrap around myself in the office and I usually drink 2 cups of tea a day, which definitely helps. And when I get really cold, I'll find an errand to run on the other side of campus. The walk in the heat always does the trick!

• Receiving additional responsibility at work. Now that the dust has settled (so to speak) on the semester, the time I was originally allotted for teaching a second - canceled - section of my 9 hour-a-week course has been reallocated. I've got additional projects to be working on now. Also, the course I'm teaching continues to become more and more content-specific, meaning we use more vocabulary specific to the students' future jobs in the oil industry. This is good for the students, but it means I have to do a little more research into basic concepts of the technical fields. It's interesting, but does require time.

• Driving home as the sun is setting. When we first arrived in Doha, the sun set around 6:30. Now it's closer to 5:30 when it gets dark. When I first started working at the college, I went home at 3:50. Now it's usually 4:50. There's something psychologically taxing about working longer than the sun does. I remember some winter days at Niagara College where I would enter the school before the sun came up and leave after it had set. It was depressing. Here I definitely beat the sun in terms of quitting time, but watching it prepare to check out on the commute home adds to my lethargy.

• Starting the day at 5:30am. This is the biggie. Three days a week I have to be at the college at 7:30am. In order to do that, I catch the 6:20 bus which arrives at our destination anywhere between 6:45 and 7:25, depending on traffic. So I start thinking about getting up as the alarm rings at 5:30, and finally make it to the shower by 5:45, prompted by Darren's, "If you don't go now, you'll miss the bus." Fortunately for me, he saves me at least 5 minutes in the getting ready process by getting up and making my lunch. (I wouldn't be surprised if he goes back to bed for a little nap after I leave - I WOULD!) Most days, once I'm at work I'm awake and ready for the day, but starting so early takes its toll...

I know I'm not the only one who is feeling the change. My students come to class saying they are so tired because they've had a long day. In all fairness, when you're taking 30 hours of classes a week, you do have long days. But when we were on the Ramadan schedule (shorter classes; shorter days), they said they were so tired because they hadn't slept the night before because of Ramadan. I guess it's hard to win no matter what the circumstances.

I'm just hoping I can train my body either require a little less sleep or get invigorated by AC, side projects, sunsets and early mornings!

Parisian Hightlights

Darren has just completed a marathon blogging event, in which he described each day of our trip to Paris from start to finish. The time invested in these posts rivals that spent back when we were first married and he was obsessed with time travel. Not that I'm complaining - I'm glad some of the funny stories and experiences we had have been documented by my witty husband.

I should say, however, that I was tempted to write a post entitled "I am not a jerk" in response to the way Darren portrayed me in some of the Paris posts. In it I would have listed all the factors that led to me asking if we could hurry up and "get through" Notre Dame, etc. But I won't. Those of you who know me know that I'm not a jerk - usually.

But since our 6 days in the City of Lights have already been preserved for posterity, I feel no need to recap our daily goings on while in Paris. Instead, I would like to reflect on the highlights of our trip from my perspective.

1. AUTUMN
It was so nice to get a taste of autumn while in Europe. The weather was crisp - staying in the teens throughout the week - and clear most days. The leaves had started to change to yellow and orange, and a few had even fallen. It was nothing like a trip to Northern Ontario in October, or even the Niagara Escarpment aflame at American Thanksgiving. But remember, I live in Qatar - what few trees I can see will never turn red. So I gaily skipped along through each miniature pile of leaves I found along the side of the street, and breathed in deeply every time I got a whiff of "autumn".

Of course, the weather in Doha will cool down and become fall-like, in a way, but it will continue to smell like dust, not rotting leaves. Neither sounds particularly appetizing, but I do love the smell of rotting leaves...and I got to experience it for a week!

2. LANGUAGE
Although I had been living outside of Canada for a month and a half when we arrived in Paris, this trip was my first opportunity to speak a language other than English. As I'm sure I've mentioned before, the language I use to communicate with the people I interact with at work, in restaurants, in taxis, in stores - everywhere! - is English. Sometimes it's a form of broken English, but it's English nonetheless. Despite his best efforts, Darren has only been able to use his Arabic words once since arriving!

As a language person, I found it invigorating to be able to communicate my needs/desires in another language (at least semi-effectively). Much of the French I studied in high school came right back, and I thoroughly enjoyed using it. Even Darren got over his resistant attitude toward French. I'll never forget one morning when he returned from a checking-our-email-errand and announced, "I did everything in French!!", referring to asking about the existence, location and cost of Internet service nearby out hotel.

Darren and I have talked repeatedly about signing up for an Arabic class here in Doha. There are quite a few to choose from, with varying degrees of commitment and cost. While I would love to be able to read and speak Arabic, I find I lack the motivation to learn it since there are few places to practice here. I'll just have to go to places that speak French to get my dose of linguistic variation, I guess.

3. HISTORY
I don't know much about history. I became interested in the past after my formal education had finished, so I have little knowledge of historical dates and figures. I'm sure Qatar has a rich and interesting history, which I intend to read up about one of these days, but at the moment all I know is that they used to dive for pearls and now they dig for oil.

I don't know much about the French Revolution, either. Or I should say I didn't. We went on a couple of walking tours in which the tour guide led us to buildings of note in the city and explained how they fit into either WWII or the Revolution (according to the tour we were on). It was so interesting to experience history so many years later; this is the way to learn history!

4. PDAs (Public Displays of Affection)
One of the things we frequently read in our research on living in the Middle East is that women and men are not permitted to touch in public. Men will often be seen walking hand in hand, or embracing or even kissing (it's very common for men to greet each other with either a couple cheek kisses or nose rubs), but the only man-woman touching we've seen has been from expatriates from Southeast Asia - and even that was rare.

So imagine the culture shock we faced when walking down the Seine and seeing young couples displaying their love everywhere! I found it kind of endearing, but surprising at the same time. The first few times I saw a couple kissing I wanted to run over and ask them if they realized what they were doing. But of course they did, and of course it didn't take long for Darren and me to forget about our acquired Middle Eastern demeanor and start holding hands and kissing in public too.

Don't worry; that's all stopped now!

5. EXERCISE
Darren and I lead a rather sedentary life in Doha. Because we don't have a car, and because we live so close to some good restaurants, a grocery store and a home centre, we do go for 15-minute walks a few times a week. But because of the weather, that's about all the outdoor exercise I do.

There are 2 gyms on campus - one male, one female - but I don't frequent either. I have a slight medical condition which doesn't allow me to sweat; instead, I just get hotter and hotter until I pass out. Needless to say, this makes me a little nervous about strenuous exercise. I do plan to start swimming lengths a couple of times a week once I buy a "length-swimming bathing suit", but for now I can usually be found sitting at my desk at work or lounging on the big brown chair at home with a book.

But in Paris, we walked and walked and walked some more. And on Wednesday we went on an all-day bike tour of Versailles. It was fantastic! The cool temperatures and the fascinating sites kept us moving. We got back to the hotel each night exhausted and with aching feet and backs, but it was worth it. I thoroughly enjoyed all the non-vigorous physical activity we got on our trip.

6. FRIENDS
By far the best part of our trip for me was spending time with our dear friends Dan & Marie. Before we had just surrounded ourselves with an amazing group of friends. Although we are making friends here in Doha, it takes a while to get to the point of true friendship. That's what we were developing back in St. Catharines.

It was SO good to visit with D&M - we had lots of laughs, some delicious food and even a few meaningful talks. I was reminded of how precious true friends are. It also made me miss everyone at home a little bit more.


So there you have it: the highlights of my time in Paris. We've been back in Doha for less than a week and already we're trying to plan our next trip! Unfortunately we don't have any friends or family who are planning on Christmassing abroad, so I think it will just be Darren and me. But I happen to like Darren (quite a bit), so it's not a sacrifice for me.

Home sweet home

It's amazing how things can change in just a week. We came back to a much cooler Doha (the breeze actually feels nice, although the thermometer remains around 30 degrees Celsius). In addition, we noticed that a good amount of progress has been made in the (de)construction across the street. By that I mean that the hole they're digging is much deeper and wider now!

Probably the hardest thing for us to do was to start speaking English again. When we got on our Gulf Air flight in Paris, both Darren and I greeted the flight attendants with "Bonjour." Probably not a single Gulf Air employee on that plane spoke French, though, making it much more effective to ask for apple juice than "jus du pomme." In Bahrain where we transferred planes, I said "Merci" to the gentleman who tore my boarding pass (I'm not sure what his job title is - you know, the last person you have contact with before walking down the platform toward the plane), although he was probably from an Arabic-speaking family. It was just habit.

We had a fantastic time away, but it's good to be home. Yes, home. When we were in Paris and someone asked where we were from I would always answer Canada, while Darren would say Qatar. I think it was just habit on my part because Qatar *is* home. Leaving for a few days has made it feel moreso thus.

Highlights from our week away will follow, but for now it's good to be home.

Quick Update

Well, it happened - Darren's residency came in on Sunday. That very day we confirmed and paid for our flights to Paris and booked a hotel. The location of the hotel is not optimum, but it's excellent for having booked it four days in advance. Things sure fill up fast in Paris!

The plan is to fly out of the Doha airport Thursday night, switching planes in Bahrain, and flying overnight to France. We'll spend two days with Dan & Marie before they head home and then we'll start the museum touring. We're very excited to say the least.

In other news, Darren has a few more job prospects. We'll let you know more once he actually gets hired and starts work. In the meantime, it's been great to have him around during the day to take care of things like setting up our phone/Internet connection and waiting for the refrigerator repairman to call.

It's also the last week of Ramadan. When we get back from France, the country will be back on normal schedules. We don't actually know what that means since we arrived only a few days before Ramadan was called, but I know we'll be able to do our grocery shopping before 8 pm! Ramadan moves ahead 11 days on the Gregorian calendar each year, so in a couple years' time, we'll be on summer vacation during that month and miss it all together.

So, if you don't hear from the Conleys for a few days, be happy that we're out experiencing life rather than just blogging about it. But we will be back, with new stories to tell and pictures to share.

Peanut butter stew and Ramadan Tents

I borrowed a book of short stories from the college library to read as I'm trying to fall asleep or waiting for the bus. The stories are written by a Ghanese woman, Ama Ata Aidoo, and all relate to issues surrounding women in Africa.

A couple passages from the short story "Nutty" have stuck with me:

"Later it had occurred to her that Mistake Number One was trying to translate the names of our foods into English and other European languages, so that foreigners would understand them. End result? You explain the food, and that's not always helpful. Becuase no one wants to deal with strange ingredients." (p. 46)

Anyone who has been to a restaurant in Asia and seen "stir-fried crab ovaries" or "braised pig heart with tree fungus" can relate.

Here in Qatar, I've noticed that the Middle Eastern restaurants do not translate food names, but simply use the Arabic names, written in Latin letters. So they don't write "Eggplant mush" for Baba Ganouj, or "Chickpea puree" for Hummus. The Chicken Kofta could be called "Chicken Sausage on a stick" but it's not. It makes for (1) an intersting first visit to a Middle Eastern restaurant full of sampling surprise dishes (fortunately EVERYTHING is delicious) and (2) the feeling of a more authentic experience.

The story's main character, an African woman, recounts an experience she had when visiting a former roomate now living in America. The American woman prepared and proudly presented a 5-course meal in her friend's honour, featuring an "exotic" main dish. As it turns out, however, this exotic dish is actually a famous African "peanut butter stew" which the main character had made and served to her friend years back when they were roommates in Africa. What follows is this:

"She could hear strains of a popular highlife band, which she had once heard introduced on a radio station as 'world music'. The presenter had mentioned the band's name, but not where it came from. As though crediting the music with Africa would somehow take away from it. What she had felt then was not shame exactly. Must have been confusion. And here she was, with a delicious meal ruined for her, and thinking that in this global village where African music is only part of 'world music', maybe African food becomes edible only when it is part of an exotic universal cuisine."(p. 53)

As our world gets smaller, customs, foods, ideas are being shared among various cultures. Invariably, each loses at least a part of its true identity and origin.

Last night Darren and I and a group of 20-some people from our building attended a suhoor dinner at the Intercontinental Hotel's Ramadan Tent. It was a lovely night of entertainment as well as delicious food. (Watch Darren's blog for more details and pictures.) All the food (besides a few Western-style desserts) was 'Arabic' (tawook, shawarma, tabouleh, baklava, etc.) But I have no idea which was Lebanese, Lybian, Jordanian, Egyptian.

Because of reading "Nutty", I wondered how someone who was from the specific location where one of these dishes originated would feel seeing a group of Canadians enjoying the "generic Arabic" food. I also wondered how much ignorance it shows on my part for not being interested enough in the food's origins.

Either way, it was delicious - probably as delicious as the peanut butter stew was in the story.

Bus Service

The school I work for provides a shuttle bus service to and from work from the apartments and villas its employees live in. In the morning, there's a bus leaving our building every hour between 6:20 and 10:20. And in the afternoon, every hour from 1:50 to 6:50.

There are 4 different busses that all have the same schedule, each with its own route. The busses that travel to our building (which we call "Al Saad", the name of the nearest major street) are either labeled number 1 or 6, depending on the driver and the time of day. It took us a couple of weeks to figure out that (1) the busses had numbers and (2) that these numbers corresponded to destinations. We used to just get on each bus in turn asking the driver, "Al Saad?" until one said "Yes, yes. Al Saad, yes."

We have the same two drivers who are assigned to our route, so we see them quite regularly. Waiting at the bus stop at work where busses headed to all the school's apartments and complexes gather, if I can't see the bus number (because of the position I'm in as it pulls up), I can usually tell whether or not it's my bus by the shape of the driver's hair. Yup, I know my driver's hair!!

I hadn't realized, however, that they also recognize us! One day earlier this week, as I was sitting on the bus waiting to leave the school, a girl who is also from my building walked past the bus, heading for one parked in front of it. The driver, realizing she should be on *his* bus, honked the horn to get her attention and waved her over.

Now that's service!

The story of the henna

As you know from Darren's post, we attended a party on Monday celebrating the half-way point of Ramadan. Garanga'oh, intended mainly as an evening for children, was a lot of fun - even as an adult observer. I enjoyed the energy and excitement of the gathering, and I loved all the beautiful costumes (traditional dress) everywhere.

Darren spent a good amount of the evening taking pictures. I ran into a student who asked me where my husband was, and I had to admit I lost him and his camera!

Unlike Darren, I'm not patient enough to be a photographer. I got bored waiting for him to snap a decent picture of the dancing "Hamoose" amidst spotlights that were constantly changing colour and intensity. So I went for a little walk around the party grounds. I saw a group of young girls gathered in a corner of a traditional village set which peaked my interest.

As it turns out, they were each waiting their turn to get Henna "tattoos". I walked closer to get a better look, and before I knew it, a lady had grabbed my hand, placed it in her lap, and started drawing a flower with the paste. The first thing that came to my mind was, "Well, I guess I'm getting henna!" immediately followed by a slightly more panicked "Can I teach with henna?" When she finished with my right hand, she started in on the left. By that point I had stopped worrying about the consquences. It was too late, anyway.

When this was all over, the lady gave me her business card - I'll take you to see her when you come Marie and Ashley! - and sent me on my way. I was unclear about the procedure so I stopped a young woman in an abaya and asked her when I could wash, to which she replied "when it's hard."

By this time, Darren had succeeded in capturing the college mascot on film and had found me wandering about. He was a little freaked out by my hands, and even tried to avoid them for a day or so.

My students' reaction was completely different. I intentionally wore a long-sleeved shirt to work to avoid drawing attention to my henna. But as I was writing on the board I heard from behind me, "Oh teacher, bee-yu-ti-ful!" There was a general consensus among the class that all I need now is an abaya and I'm all set!

Even now (Wednesday night), I'm still often surprised by my own hands. They catch me off guard. But I'd have to concur with my students; I really think the henna is beautiful. Hopefully I'll still think so when it starts to fade and turns orange!

Before the henna - enjoying some traditional food

Monday night at the party - pre-washing

Wednesday night at home - a nice brown colour

The reality of fiction

Sometimes fiction and reality collide. Other times, they complement each other.

I've been doing a fair amount of reading in my spare time. Now that we've set up the office/den area, I've got a nice reading chair, with natural light throughout the day, which makes it the perfect place to spend Friday and Saturday afternoons.

Last week I finished a book that applies to my life here in Doha in a way I would never have expected. The book is The God of Small Things, written by Arundhati Roy. It's quite well known, I believe - a winner of the Booker Prize. I picked it up at the local Virgin Megastore the last time we were there because I liked the cover. I know they say not to judge a book by its cover, but why else would there be cover art on books? It wasn't just the picture though; the quotation on the front said "A masterpiece, utterly exceptional in every way" (Harpers & Queen). I think that was what sold me on the book. That and the fact that it was set in India and cost less than 50 QR.

Having read it, I'm not sure that I would go as far as Harpers & Queen, but I will say it was beautifully written. Roy led me through a complex timeline of multiple pasts and the present with amazing subtlety. Her metaphors were natural and beautiful. She revealed the plot slowly, but not tantalizingly - which I really appreciate.

My feelings about the book are mixed: I quite enjoyed it, but I'm not sure I would necessarily recommend it. Well, I think Marie might like it, or maybe Kathy...I'm not really sure of Kathy's taste in books yet, though.

Anyway, the connection between the book and Doha is this: The story is set in the Kerala province of India. Until a month ago I had no connection to this part of the world, but in the last 3 weeks I have met over a dozen people from Kerala. There are a number of agencies there that recruit workers to come to Doha, and just about every taxi driver I've had the privilege of meeting has been from there. Just the other night Darren and I had a 20-minute conversation with Tiju about his language and hometown (Cochin, which incidentally was the place the characters in my book caught the train.)

I realize my only connection to Kerala or the Malayalam language is a fictional story and its characters, which is hardly a connection at all. But now I at least have a frame of reference for my conversations with the Indians I meet in my travels in Doha.

In this context, one part of the book really stood out to me:

Now that he'd been re-Returned, Estha walked all over Ayemenem.

Some days he walked along the banks of the river that smelled of [feces], and pesticides bought with World Bank loans. Most of the fish had died. The ones that survived suffered from fin-rot and had broken out in boils.

Other days he waked down the road. Past the new, freshly baked, iced, Gulf-money houses built by nurses, masons, wire-benders and bank clerks who worked hard and unhappily in faraway places. Past the resentful older houses tinged green with envy, cowering in their private driveways among their private rubber trees. Each a tottering fiefdom with an epic of its own.

He walked past the village school that his great-grandfather built for Untouchable children.... (p. 13)

There are so many people here, working hard and faraway from their homes (and often their families). Whether they are happy or unhappy I cannot say, but their lives are not easy. Many work long hours in difficult jobs for poor wages that they send home to their loved ones.

I think about these workers when I drive past a construction site, when I'm served in a restaurant, when I walk past a security guard or a cleaner. I wonder if they ever regret their choice to come here to work - if indeed it was a choice. I imagine their children running to the door when they come home after a shift, or return home after a few years away, so glad to see them. I smile at them, and greet them as I would a colleague, hoping they feel a sense that although I cannot understand the situations or decisions that brought them here, or what their lives are like as workers in Qatar, I appreciate them.

On a slightly different note, the other day I bought a jar of mango jam from the local Family Food Centre. When I got it home I noticed the brand name: Kerala's Best. I like to imagine it was made in a small family factory like "Paradise Pickles and Preserves", the one owned and operated by the main characters in my book.

-Fiction complementing reality.-

First anniversary

Today is our one month anniversary in Qatar. We arrived at the Doha airport August 13, just before midnight. Besides the 2 1/2 hours we spent in the London Heathrow airport, we actually spent the entire day of August 13 in the air. So, Darren is more accurate when he says this is the one-month anniversary of the day that we lost.

I'm not sure whether it feels like we've been here a month or not. I guess it does. As I've mentioned before, we're feeling comfortable in our new surroundings, our apartment feels as much "ours" as any of our past apartments have, and we're even getting accustomed to doing business (such as banking, shopping, etc.) at night.

Hopefully by our second messiversary here, we'll both be residents of Qatar, have phone and Internet service in our home, and have more than 12 expressions in our collective Arabic vocabulary! :)

Ramadan Kareem

We're nearing the end of the second week of Ramadan, the holiest month of the year for a Muslim. It's a time of fasting, prayer, and giving. It's also a time of celebration - after sundown.

Although there are some decorations in the local malls, and many stores have special Ramadan promotions, much of the celebrations and observations are done with families behind closed doors. I now understand how my ESL students back in Canada felt during a holiday such as Thanksgiving or Christmas, where families gather together and participate in their own traditions. It's a very special time for those gathered, but it means little to the outsider.

As a non-Muslim living in Qatar, I have been affected by Ramadan, but only in small ways:

1. Class hours have changed. Instead of 50-minute class periods we have 40-minute periods during Ramadan, and there is a college-wide break for prayer around midday. Business hours throughout the country are different, in fact. It is not unusual for things to close midday and not open again until after well after sundown. We were at the city centre mall last weekend, for example, and while the restaurants opened around 6, the stores stayed closed until 8.
   
   
2. The students are tired. Once the sun goes down, the celebrations begins. Many of my students are up all night eating and enjoying themselves. Even those who get a decent night's sleep are up early to eat the Suhoor meal before the morning prayer (which was at 3:58 this morning).
   
   
3. The cafeterias on campus have been closed and we have been instructed (by multiple sources) not to eat or drink in public during daylight hours. One staff room in each building has been deemed a Ramadan-sanctioned eating room, its windows blocked and doors kept shut. When I want a drink of water, I have to go to the staff room and drink it there; I am not permitted to eat or drink in my cubical. I avoid walking outdoors as much as possible during the day, since rehydrating is an issue. And I carry my lunchbag inside my workbag, just to make it less conspicuous.

From my perspective, the secrecy with which we eat, the modesty with which we dress, and the general care with which we proceed is more out of respect than mandate. For that reason, I'm happy to do it. I am a visitor in this country (technically I'm a resident, but you know what I mean!) and it is my obligation and privilege to abide by the laws of the land. Since things like fasting and wearing an abaya are cultural/religious (I use those words together intentionally; it's hard to separate the two here!), my obligation is not to necessarily join in, but to respect - especially in this holy month.

All we ever talk about...

I'm noticing that there are (of late) two main topics of discussion among my colleagues here: residency and travel. This is not surprising considering the time of year. A new batch of employees has just arrived, all waiting to purchase cars and get cable television. Every day a few more get their residency, and with it the go-ahead to apply for a phone line and Qatari driver's license.

Each person prioritizes the privileges that become available once one's residency is secured differently. There are people in our building who went out and rented cars the same day they got their ID card. Darren's first order of business was taking a trip to Q-tel to apply for a residential package, including land line, Internet service and post-paid mobile phone. For me it was searching for flights for the upcoming holiday.

Although it seems as though we've just arrived and classes have just started, we're about 2 weeks away from our first vacation. Eid al Fitr, the celebration that marks the end of Ramadan, is almost upon us, and with it comes 5 stat holidays! So including weekends, college faculty have 9 days off at the end of September.

Since we've just arrived, Darren and I were initially thinking of just staying put and discovering more about our new 'hometown'. But 9 work-less days here would seem very long. So travel it is. It would make sense for our first order of business to be to explore the Gulf further. We know people who have traveled to Syria, Oman, Yemen - all with great stories and fond memories. But we've opted to do something a little more outrageous - we're planning on going to Paris.

France has never been high on my list of places to visit. I'm not exactly sure why that is. I would like to see the Eiffel tower, drink a coffee-substitute in a French cafe, view the Mona Lisa in person, and see just how much of my high school French has stuck. I didn't ever really think I'd have the chance, but thanks to our dear friends, now I do.

Dan and Marie are going to Paris for a vacation in 4 or 5 days and will be there until the second day of our vacation. If that's not incentive to plan a trip to la belle Paris, I don't know what is. We'll only really have a day and a half to visit, but we'll take whatever we can get. That is, if Darren's papers arrive on time.

You see, while I have received my Qatari residency, Darren has not. In order to be a resident of Qatar, one has to be sponsored. My employer is my sponsor, and I am Darren's, so we had to wait until I was a resident before I could officially sponsor him. At the moment he is here on a visitor's visa. He can leave the country, but doing so would make all the work he has done in getting his residency void and he'd have to re-do the medical tests and fingerprinting, not to mention start the waiting all over. And I'm sure the college would not be very excited in helping him get all that done AGAIN.

So here's the plan: If Darren's residency comes in by the end of the day, we'll call the travel agent and confirm our flights to Paris. If it doesn't, we've got a few more days to try to rebook, hoping that the flights we want aren't full. If it still hasn't arrived by the end of the week, we will be two thoroughly disappointed Conleys. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

Having read this, you can feel like you've been part of a typical Doha expat conversation. I wonder what we'll all talk about after (1) all the residencies come in and (2) we all get back from our trips. Maybe the next trip?

The unthinkable has happened.

I don't know if I'm acclimatizing or if the difference between a humid and a non-humid day is that stark, but today feels cool-ish to me, and according to theweathernetwork.ca, it's currently 44 degrees Celsius in Doha.

Of course, I was outside only to walk from my apartment to the bus, from the bus to my office cubicle, and then to and from the building I teach in. But still...it feels nice out today!

Yes, my friends, the unthinkable has happened...and I'm certainly not complaining (neither am I planning an outdoor picnic, incidentally! Not yet, anyway.)

Mid-week Musings: Culture Shock and Cultural Segregation

Here I sit in our newly rearranged office/den (the one with the on-suite bathroom!), sipping my green tea and thinking. Supper has been made and eaten, the dishes are being washed by our lovely dishwasher, and Darren is out on a quest to get a reading lamp. I decided not to accompany him today; a girl can only do so much shopping!

It's amazing how quickly this place has become home. I'm referring to both our apartment and the city itself. Of course I don't feel like I truly belong here, but I don't feel like a complete stranger either. I've got a pretty good handle on my job - at least, until they rearrange the classes at the end of this week and reassign our workloads. I know I could get around the city, as long as my destination was a well-known place. I've got - or have access to - everything I need here.

I think what I actually am suffering from is a false sense of belonging. I might be overestimating my ability to adapt to life in this country. I wouldn't be surprised if I've overcompensated for my uncertainties with optimism. I know I'm overconfident in my understanding of the way things work here. I wonder if these things are typical of people in the honeymoon stage of culture shock.

I am certain that a few months down the road I will find myself crawling into Darren's lap so he can soothe me as I weep over everything and everyone I miss. I am expecting to get more and more annoyed at the way "they" do things here. And I suspect I will find parts of this culture that I so desperately want to change. That's all a natural part of culture shock. But I hope that when it's all said and done I don't become an embittered expat, body in one country, heart in another.

Someone on the bus this morning said, "The expat life is a strange one. You never fit in." It's true - as a foreigner in a strange land, try as I may, I will never be accepted the way a national is. This is especially true in Qatar. As I've mentioned before, the country is a multicultural one, with foreigners from all over the world moving here in droves. Consequently, there are pockets of various cultures living within a muslim Arab society. These cultures rarely mix, but rather stick to themselves (whether by choice, habit or force, I'm not sure yet).

I wonder how much of this segregation is actually based on social status rather than culture. While there are certainly exceptions, the majority of the taxi drivers are from the same culture. Servers in restaurants are predominantly from another culture. Teachers and businessmen are from yet another. Construction workers are from another again. So when people from different ethnic backgrounds interact, they are often also interacting with people from a different socioeconomic class.

Even though I like to think I treat my taxi driver the same way I do my waitress, which is the same way I treat my colleagues, it is naive to think that it will be easy (or even possible?) to develop a similar type of friendship with each of these people (even given the right circumstances). I don't doubt this will be an area in which I struggle when the honeymoon comes to an end.

Nothing I have experienced here has really come as a surprise. Darren and I read a fair amount of information on Qatar before coming - most of which was provided by my employer. However, knowing something and living it are two very different things.

Well, my cup is empty, the call to prayer is playing and the computer wants to be plugged in. I guess it's time to end this little reflection session for now. I'm going to choose to enjoy this stage of culture shock while it lasts. And hopefully I'll be able to breeze through to the part where I come to terms with the new culture (whatever that means!). In the meantime, I will continue to enjoy the adventure of settling into a new country...and stay away from cranky old expats.

But first, another cup of tea!

Classroom Anecdote

At the beginning of the class today, students wrote a paragraph describing their school schedule. Then, after a lesson on when to add an -s or -es to a verb in the present simple, I asked them to check their paragraphs for proper use of -s on the verbs. (What I wanted to say was "Make sure you have conjugated each present simple verb correctly," but I'm sure you can understand why I didn't.)

To encourage thorough self-editing I said, "When I read you paragraphs, I will check each verb. If I find a mistake with the -ses, I will take my red pen and write a big X." So the students checked their paragraphs and reported that they were perfect. We'll see when I look at them in the morning.

Just before it was time to go, I told the class to have a great evening and a wonderful Iftar (the meal after sunset when Muslims break their fast). "Oh, teacher, you speak Arabic!" was the response. So I had to list off the 5 words/phrases that I actually know:

• kayfa Haal-ak
• al-Hamdu lil-laah
• ramadan
• as-salaamu :alay-kum
• inshallah
  

A student in the far corner piped up, "Teacher, next week I will give you a quiz. If you get one wrong, I will take my red pen and I will write a big X on your paper!"

It made my day - not only did it demonstrate that my students were listening, but also that they have a great sense of humour!