The Questions were non-stop:
"Where is Qatar?""The Middle East."
"It's dangerous. Why are you going there?"
" Because I haven't been."
"How long will you stay? "Don't know."
Where will you stay?" Same answer.
"What will you do there?" "It's to be discovered."
"Why aren't you settling down?" "Why should I start now?"
The questions started back in November last year. That's when I found out my dear friend, Renee Lewis was working as a journalist for Al Jazeera in Doha, Qatar. I did two things right away; (a) I checked Google to find out where Qatar was, and (b) Asked Renee if there was a little job there she could find for me to do. She got on it right away, starting by helping me to update my ancient resume. Surprisingly her manager was interested in having me come However, it was more complicated for me and the on-and-off nature of the decision-making left all my friends and family in suspense.
Inspite of this unknown, I went ahead with making plans; loose plans. Very loose plans that started with renting my house for the next year. I hadn't planned on renting my house. The idea was totally unexpected, unplanned, and came from someone I never suspected was interested in living in it. But when the proposal was presented to me, I thought it over for 5 seconds and agreed. However, the house had to be unfurnished. Hadn't planned for that. Unfurnishing it was a ghastly job, only made possible with the help of dear friends. While trying to unload all my belongings, I also had to think about packing for a Muslim country in hot weather (it turned out to be very cold), and arranging accommodations in Doha. I decided on couch-surfing which required some research and computer time. I had to find a temporary place to stay in San Miguel until the time I would actually leave. Meanwhile I spent many hours searching for a suitable flight, not knowing how long I would stay away. . Complicating things more, I had to time my departure with other events that needed attention. At the same time, Renee would email me periodically, telling me of the progress or lack of it in getting me something to do at Al Jazeera. Sometimes it looked like I had a job, sometimes not. But I knew I was going to Doha no matter what. While the answers to so many questions mattered to others, the answers didn't matter to me. I knew that however things rolled out, it would be a renewing, exciting adventure. Eventually, I would get what I wanted.
After two months of preparation with many unknowns still hanging, a big, wonderful going-away party, and only two weeks after my 79th birthday, I took a crowed, scruffy-looking overnight bus from San Miguel de Allende, Mexico to Houston, Texas. I was the only non-Mexican on the bus and also the oldest. With a few hours of sleep and 24 hours later, my dear friend, Dawn McCarty met me at the Houston bus station and took me to the International Hostel; a lovely old mansion where I had my own room and attached bath with free breakfast in the morning. I spent the night there and the next evening Dawn took me to the airport for my flight to Doha. Qatar Airways made sure the two oil capitols were directly, non-stop connected..
After a very comfortable 13 hour flight, we arrived in Doha. Tracy, my couch-surfing hostess was at the airport to meet me. She drove me to her beautiful, centrally located apartment where I again had my own bedroom and bath.....free. The next day Renee picked me up and took me directly to Al Jazeera, a thrilling experience. No, I had no job but it didn't matter. Renee made sure I saw what I needed to see there and met whom I need to meet. Later, with time off, she took me to see many other places in the city and to learn things about it I'd never have known without her. Soon, I came to realize that Doha was the strangest place I've ever visited..
Doha, in the midst of the desert, quiet, peaceful, though directly across from Iran, is super modern, feeling somewhat like a more up-to-date Los Angeles . The sand is covered with asphalt freeways, parking lots, shopping malls and non-stop construction of very beautiful, most modern high rise buildings I've seen anywhere. . The architecture is stunning and represents the signature designs of the most famous architects in the world. Surprisingly, most buildings are empty. And so were the streets, except for the third-world construction workers whom I learned worked 10, 12, 16-hour days for shockingly little pay. Rarely was a white-robed Qatari man or a black-robed Qatari woman seen in the streets. They are not the Cat drivers, welders, waiters, taxi or bus drivers, bank tellers, or shop keepers.
While many are academicians, artists, musicians, lawyers, doctors, scientists, politicians, they are also shoppers. Unless you are lucky enough to know them personally, to see Qatari men and women, you must go to any of the many upscale shopping malls in the evening. There you will see men, their heads carefully draped traditional style, wearing their long whiter-than-white clothing. Clusters of Qatari women will be seen covered from head to toe in black, sometimes faces covered with a thick black veil, or completely uncovered. Sometimes only their eyes are exposed which somehow seem to reveal much more about them than was intended. But always could be heard their spike heeled shoes click clacking on the floor as they shop in trendy shops where cute little short dresses were on sale, or low cut blouses in bright colors, along with expensive shoes and everything from French, Italian, Spanish, and American globalized makers of fashion.
In addition to the grand, ostentatious shopping malls, Renee took me to the beautiful Islamic Art Museum, the Cultural Center, an abandoned fishing village in the desert, elegant hotels, a variety of ethnic restaurants, and a very "hot" upscale roof top bar....a bit surprising in this Muslim country. But in addition to all these places that I found so intriguing were the people I met. One particularly interesting woman was Imam, a vivacious, beautiful Palestinian American archaeologist working on a site outside of Doha. She told me about her work revealing the little-known life of the pearl divers that once abounded there...before oil was discovered and changed everything. I was also enriched by meeting another of my couch-surfing hosts, Mohammed, an Egyptian who had a part in the Arab Spring at Tahir Square. His stories were riveting. My world had expanded.
Expanding my world were also the revelations about the darker side of Doha; the stories of wealthy Qatari owners of villas built strictly for their underground parties. Their parties, I was told, consisted of non-stop drugs and alcohol and third-world female prostitutes. This was rather surprising given the strict Muslim exterior.
Of course, there is also the large, international university complex consisting of some of the most prestigious American universities where local students and those from the region come to study. There are the well-known Doha Debates of high acclaim, and the Doha venue for an all-women's international tennis match. All are anticipating the Olympics slated to be held there in 1220.
The bottom line is that my friend's questions were answered this way: when making plans for travelling and when actually doing it, much has to be unknown, even if you think you've planned for everything. But there will always be an answer to your questions, one way or another, and they will all be OK....depending on your attitude. Best to make it a positive one. If you do, all will be as it should be.
Next time I'll tell you why I left Doha after two weeks and flew off to a very different destination....with more unknowns. And more adventure.
