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!

The Eats in Doha

Wherever I go, I find that people are always concerned about what I'm eating. Perhaps it's my bony body type or my history with mild illness, but whatever the reason, if you're one of those people, I'm about to put your mind to rest.

There is a lot of food in Doha. In terms of quantity, there is plenty to go around. In terms of diversity, almost anything can be found here. Because of the large expat community (from the West, as well as from the East - India, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Phillipines...), there is a good selection of ethnic foods to be found.

Having said that, there are some items that are harder to come by than others. We have bought brocolli but it's not always easy to find. The same is true for special products like Miracle Whip (which Darren happened to find in one store and stocked up for me!) and whole wheat pasta. On the other hand, there are tons of Asian and European products that I'm not familiar with and that would be interesting to try.

So what do we eat? Well, at home - pretty much the same thing we ate in Canada. Wednesday night, for example, I made spaghetti. The night before we had stir fry. Last week, when we were being fed delicious lunch buffets at orientation, we had simpler dinners, such as egg sandwiches and omelets.

That's not to say that we always eat what we've always eaten. Last Saturday when we got home late and hungry from a city tour, I sent Darren to a nearby takeout kebab place to pick up shawarma. Last night we went to a Middle Eastern restarurant and sampled baba ghanouj (pictured above), chicken kofta and shish tawook. Tomorrow I'm planning on making Biryani. And more and more I'd like to experiment with the "different" vegetables and spices here.

We find ourselves eating out more in Doha than we did at home. Not because of the lack of options for at-home eating, but because of our need to get out.

There are a few reasons for this. First, it's too hot to go out during the day. This makes it really easy to stay in the apartment for hours on end. Fortunately I am forced to leave each morning to go to my job, because I'm the kind of person who would stay planted here. Darren does a good job of getting out most days to run a little errand at least, but he still spends the majority of his time cooped up in here. It's not just us - after sundown, the city seems to come to life. All the stores are open until at least 9 or 10, and children can be seen running around and playing in the rubble heaps late into the evening.

The other reason is that we're bored at home. Once dinner is finished, we've still got a few hours until bedtime. Because I've spent all day at work, I usually just want to be with Darren, or maybe another couple. However, with few distractions at home, it gets boring really quickly. So we find reasons to get out for a few hours in the evening. Sometimes it's to use an Internet cafe, this past week we spend days on our quest to find more comfortable sheets, but other times it's to have a meal.

Fortunately eating out is not as expensive here as it is at home - as long as you stay away from the ritzy hotels. These are the few places that have liquor licenses in the country, so they are popular destinations for non-muslims. But the city is full of interesting (and familiar) places to eat, and we're enjoying discovering them one by one.

Hopefully now you will be less concerned about the Conleys' eating habits in Doha. We've never had it so good, actually!

Friday thoughts

It's Friday, the day of rest! :)

We got ourselves up early this morning just in case the couple who offered to give us a ride to church were planning on going to the 8:30 service. We would have arranged it last night but there was a problem with Q-Tel's tower and the entire city was without mobile service for a good part of the evening. As it turns out, they were going to the 10:30 service, so we had some time to relax this morning. Relax for Darren meant play spider solitaire, and for me it meant try out our new swiffer-esque mop. Which, incidently, works better than I had hoped on our floors. Anyway...

The church rents a villa to use for their services. It holds about 200 people and it was PACKED. We had to sit in the very back row and we weren't even late. The air conditioners were working hard, but whenever you get that many people in a single room, it's going to be hot. Rather than sandals - which allow air to circulate and keep one's feet cool(er), I foolishly wore my wedding sneakers. So in order to help maintain a reasonable body temperature, I took them off. I hope no one was offended by my barefootedness.

The service itself - for better or worse - was very similar to what one would experience in North America. This is not surprising since the majority of the attenders are from Canada and the US. There were some South Africans and Europeans, and at least two people from China, as well. But the church is definitely an expat church. Again, this is not surprising. Qatar, an Islamic nation, is willing to allow foreigners to worship in their preferred way (there are also Buddhist, Bah'ai and Hindu meetins in the city), but I'm not sure what would happen if a Qatari decided to convert.

After the service, we came home and had lunch, followed by a long afternoon of napping. On our new sheets. We really love our new sheets. It's amazing how different 180 and 300-thread counts feel! And now the sun is beginning to set and we are discussing how to spend our evening. I'm sure it will involve a taxi ride to an airconditioned location, a bite to eat and perhaps even the picking up of something else from our never-ending "not essential, but would be helpful" list - like a computer desk, or a vaccuum cleaner, or a strainer. We're so extravagent, aren't we? :)

Work update: off to the camel races (or maybe tortoise?)

We're off to a pretty slow start, but things have started. I have been assigned to teach two sections of a particular course. In one section, there are no students enrolled yet. That doesn't mean there won't be any students; it just means none have gone through the registration process at this time. In the other section, there are 8 enrolled, and I met 2 of them today. Yup, only two. Aparently there were 4 in the first class this morning, but by the time I got to see them, the number had dwindled.

There could be a number of reasons for the lack of bodies, including the facts that it's still August, people are returning from vacations abroad, and Ramadan is about to start. I'm sure I'll be posting more about Ramadan in the coming weeks.

As for the students themselves, my first impression is that they are very lovely gentlemen. While the school I work for is co-ed, all the students in my classes will be men. It's a trades preparatory program, and these guys will go on to be process operators or instrumentalists for a large local oil company. But first they have to improve their langauge skills to the point where they can make it through their courses, all of which are taught exclusively in English.

I'm all ready to get them to work, but I'm learning to be patient and wait for the dust to settle, if you will. In the meantime, I have organized my office space and made a lovely calendar of my workweek.

I hope to meet some more students tomorrow, but then again, it will be Thursday - which is the equivalent of Friday at home (see Darren's post), so chances are not good. Good thing I'm easy-going.

Settling in

We're nearing the two-week point, and there are a few things that I now realize I took for granted in Canada.

1. Cold water. Since I have been here, the only place I have found cold water is in refrigerated water dispensers. The hot water gets very hot, and the cold water is warm. I think it has something to do with the water being stored on the building roofs! :) It's not necessarily a negative thing, but it takes some getting used to. I have to remember not to turn the hot water on when I'm washing my hands, or it will turn into a hand burning session.
   


2. Quiet mornings. As I've mentioned earlier, the city is in a constant state of construction - deconstruction - reconstruction. As I've also mentioned earlier, it's really hot in the daytime here. These two facts combined mean that we awake at 5am to the sound of jackhammers and backhoes hard at work breaking down what once was a four storey building. when the machines move, it sounds like a train squealing its breaks on a track - not the most pleasant sound in the world. But it will be interesting to see what gets built next door to the south and next door to the east. Oh, and next door to the north! :)
   


3. Recycling bins. We drink a lot of bottled water here, and each of those bottles (except the few we keep to reuse) are thrown in the garbage. The same goes for pop cans, styrofoam containers, cardboard boxes, you name it. The college started a paper recycling program last year (I think it might have been students in the environmental health department, but I'll have to verify that). There are green bins beside the photocopiers that say "paper and cardboard only". The chair of my department reminded us to use them, noting that as far as we know, the paper in the bins is being recycled, although no one has actually followed the truck to its destination. I understand that recycling alone is not the answer to the world's environmental dilemmma, but I sure do miss my blue box!
   


4. Trevor. Before leaving Canada, Darren and I sold our Honda Civic, affectionately caled Trevor. For reasons practical, financial and environmental, our plan is to live in Doha as long as we can without owning a vehicle. There are busses that take employees (and their househusbands!) to the college, and the public bus/taxi system throughout the city is pretty good. So, we're doing fine for transportation. Besides, there's no way I'd get behind the wheel after seeing how people drive around here! Having said that, there have been times already (and many more to come, I'm sure) when it would have been nice to have had the freedom to jump in our own car and go somewhere on our own schedule.
   
   
5. The Internet. I do have access to the net at work, but it's for work-related business primarily. There are plenty of coffee shops throughout the city that offer free or cheap internet access to their customers. We've also visited an internet cafe. These are great options, but nothing is the same as having access to the world`s resources from your sofa. This one is just a matter of time. Once we get our residency settled, we can get a phone line and then DSL. Apparently our apartment is not within the range that can have wireless connection, but Darren will figure that all out. That's what a househusband is for!!
   

First Impressions

Now that I finally have a few moments to reflect and type, I'd like to share some of my inital thoughts and observations about our new home. The list of insights will be by no means exhaustive, nor is it meant to give you a clear idea about what we're experiencing. My main goal in writing this is to document some of the first things I noticed in order to return to them in the coming months and years and see how they've changed.

Summer in Doha is hot. When we arrived at the airport at midnight, and walked off the plane, the heat hit us like a brick wall. Fortunately, we were quickly escorted to an air conditioned shuttle that took us to the air conditioned terminal for processing. But the next day when I was standing outside the clinic where we got out medicals done as part of the residency process, I experienced for probably the first time in my life a hot wind. I’m used to a breeze being a cooling agent, but the breeze that was blowing on me was just as hot, if not hotter, than the air. It felt as though I was standing on the wrong side of an air conditioning unit or beside the exhaust pipe of a running car. It was a very interesting experience.

In the past week the temperature may not have fluctuated too much (we don't have internet or TV, or even a thermometer, so we can't check the official temperature) but depending ont he level of humidity, there have been bearable and unbearable days.

Returning faculty keeps saying to us, "Oh, you live in Al Saad (the common name of our apartment bulidng complex, named for the major street it's nearest)? That's a great area! There are tons of restaurants, shops, etc. in your neighbourhood!" However, until the winter comes, I'm not about to go exploring on foot, which is the best way to explore.

There are tons of non-Qatari nationals. In the first few days here, I have not spoken to a singe Qatari. That is not to say I have not spoken to a single non-Westerner. The hotel we stayed at for the first two nights was staffed with people from Sri Lanka, India, Philippines, etc. The same was true for the restaurants we've visited, the bus and taxi drivers whose services we've used, and the stores we've shopped in. The country is full of expatriates without whom there would be no service industry.

Don't get me wrong; I have seen Qataris - on the street, in the mall, around the campus, but I have had no contact with them. I will get to know about two dozen of them starting next week when class begins. The stream I have been assigned to teach is TPP (Trades Preparatory Program) in which 100% of the students are Qatari.

One good thing about the large ex-pat community is that the grocery stores are filled with foods from all around the world. Likewise, there are restaurants and services that cater to a wide variety of tastes and cultures. Also, as a Canadian who comes from a multicultural environment (especially as an ESL teacher!), it's much easier to adapt to a place where there are people of various culture and colours than a monocultural environment.

Doha is an architect's dream. I have seen so many impressive buidlings, especially when driving through the business and hotel districts. Doha is even building a community called the Pearl that is akin to the Palm Tree islands in Dubai.

Everywhere you look there is construction. I had seen more construction cranes in the first 24 hours of being here than in my entire life previously - and that includes pictures! Things are constructed and deconstructed at incredible rates. When we moved into our apartment, there was a building in front. One day when we got home from work (orientation), it was half demolished. The next day it was a rubble heap that matched the rubble heap on three other sides of our building.

Unfortunately, due to the speed at which the city is growing upward, it is impossible to hire enough skilled labourers. As a result, the workmanship is not as good as one would expect at home. But things are bult fast, and built to impress.

There are many other things I could mention, but they will have to wait for another time. For now, I hope you have enjoyed this little glimpse into our new surroundings.

Settling into our New Life

It's hard to believe we've been here for over a week already. then again, it's hard to believe we've been here for only a week!

For the last work week, starting this past Sunday (remember, Friday-Saturday is our weekend here!), I've been in full day orientation at school. That was 5 days full of long sessions at which tons of information was thrown at us. I feel like I have a basic sense of the campus layout now, although I still have to regularly ask security guards or returning faculty to point me in the direction of a particular building. I also have a basic idea of what I"ll be doing for the next 4 months. In EFL/ESL around the world, we never really know what and whom we'll be teaching until the first day of class. It's frustrating, but that's the way it is. So I'll spend Sunday in departmental and team meetings, and then jump into the classroom on Monday. Fortunately for me, a lot of the technology we're expected to use is similar top what I have used in Canada, so that's one less hurdle for me.

My colleagures are all Canadians. Well, there are some local hires from sub-continental Asia in administrative and support positions. Many of them are from sub-continental Asia. But all the faculty come from Canada. I have met people from all across the country, but since CNA is based out of Newfoundland, there is a huge proportion of Newfoundlanders here. I have very little experience with people from Atlantic Canada, and Newfoundland in particular. As language people, it has been very interesting for Darren and me to hear their different dialects. What a big and diverse country we come from!

In terms of settling into our new lives, we're doing alright. Darren and I are both sleeping well at night, and I have awoken 2 minutes before my alarm clock (set for 5:45 am - in order to be downstairs for the bus's prompt 6:45 departure) the past three mornings. Even today, I woke up at 5:50, rolled over and fell back to sleep, because it's Friday!

Our apartment is very nice. We live in a building with just over 70 units, all inhabited by Canadians working at CNA-Q and their spouses. We have seen over a half dozen units now and no two are identical. Some have long living/dining rooms and offices. Others have the dining room in one of the bedrooms. Others have balconies. We are fortunate to have windows that face the city, not air shafts like some of our friends. The sun wakes me up each morning!

Our little apartment (acutually, compared to where we were living in Thorold it's a BIG apartment!) is beginning to feel like home. As Darren has mentioned, we've been slowly purchasing lamps and rugs and bedding. He found a store that sells real plants so we're going to look into getting a tree for the living room - since there isn't too much foliage nearby. We'd still like to get a different sheet/duvet set for our bed, as well as a different desk for the office. And the baking sheet we bought is too big for the little oven that came with the apartment, so that means a rdeturn trip to the mall to exchange it for a smaller one. But these are all details now - our place is definitely liveable and becoming distinctly "home", which is important because for at least the next 3 years, that's exactly what it is.

Thoughts in our final Canadian days

The last week has been odd. We are currently staying at home #2 on our friends tour. Because we moved out of our apartment July 31, we needed somewhere to stay until our flight - August 12. For some reason, I was afraid to impose on any one person/couple/family to put us up for that long a time frame, so we asked 3. Yup, I decided it would be good for us to move around from house to house to house while Darren and I each finished teaching and prepared to start our new adventure. But it has actually been nice to spend some time with different sets of friends before leaving, and not nearly as stressful as I imagined.

So here we are, sleeping in guest rooms, with clothes and toothbrushes in tow. I am proud to announce that all the earthy possessions we are bringing to Qatar are packed and neatly stored at my in laws'. Except, of course, that which we're using this week. We took one small carry-on-sized suitcase back to St. Catharines with us to use for the week, as well as the backpack that houses our laptop and camera, and a "school bag" each for teaching.

Now that it's time to move to our last stop on the circuit, we're finding it a little trickier to fit everything into the same number of bags we brought here. It's amazing how things can quickly multiply. Besides a few gifts we received at our going away party (which we HAVE to bring with us!), we have accumulated a year's worth of prescription drugs, a few more toiletry items, and a Qatar-appropriate skirt that I couldn't turn down. But I'm married to a master packer, so I'm just going to fold everything nicely and wait for him to come and work his magic!

The fact that we're moving to a completely different country with a different culture, climate, set of expected behaviours, etc. hasn't really hit me yet. I know that we will be immersed in an expatriate community, which will soften the foreign-ness of the experience, but this expat community exists in the midst of a middle eastern culture.

We really have little knowledge about what we're walking into. We've familiarized ourselves with all the information the school provided for us to read, and I check a few blogs written by people living in Doha semi-regularly. Darren talks to his Saudi students about Qatar, and we just re-watched The Kite Runner to renew our excitement for "that part of the world". I've also been reading a book about Iran which is peaking my interest in the region as well. But like any overseas experience, we won't really know what life will be like until we get there and experience it. And that's part of the fun.

But at the moment, I just feel like I'm on vacation. That might worry me except for the fact that my friend Kathy didn't realize she was moving to Japan until she was in the car on the way to the airport. And she turned out alright.