Memories from Doha
Ah, Doha. When I think about this place, even five years later, I'm filled with mixed emotions. I guess that's fair since oddly enough, Qatar is a place I was ready to call home. I packed up and left my life in DC in order to experience bigger and better things abroad... Or so I thought at the time. I won't lie and say I was always 100% confident in thinking it was going to work out how I had imagined. A few days before I left DC, I broke down in the hallway of my apartment and told my best friend I had a really bad feeling about it all. She assured me that I was being silly and told me that everything would be just fine of course, but deep down, a part of me always knew it would never happen, and I think a part of her knew it, too. Oh, my poor, naive, 23-year-old heart.
Looking back, it's hard to not laugh and say, "What the hell was I thinking?" But when you're young and antsy with no college degree or career to fall back on, the thought of fleeing is almost always appealing. I've been told I'm the "head in the clouds" type, usually making decisions that sound appealing at the time but terrible in the long-run. (Though, for what it's worth, I've stayed put in Seattle with a stable job for over three years now which is a new record for me!) When my relationship ended and the fantasies of moving to the Middle East faded into the distance, my brother asked me, "Are you more upset about the relationship ending, or your dream of living abroad ending?" We both smiled because he already knew the answer.
No matter how hard I try to resist it, I always find magic in far-away places and can't help but imagine what my life would look like in each new country I visit. I never feel more myself than when I'm on the road or taking photos on an adventure far from home. I think I'll always struggle with where I truly feel home is for me now, but as Maya Angelou once said, "I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself." I think that sums things up pretty nicely, doesn't it? Whether I'm traveling long-term or "settling down" and buying a house someday in the future, I've already planted roots in more than one place and have learned that picking up and leaving isn't as scary as most people think it is. Either way, I just want to feel at home and at peace wherever I end up.
So yeah, long story short: I didn't move to Qatar. I don't regret that, but as for my mixed feelings I mentioned above, it's mostly just the "what ifs" you feel after not doing anything that could have brought you down a completely different path in life. Would I be happier there? Probably not. It's a chapter I've closed that I have no plans of reopening. Khalas.
That being said, I'll wrap up my Qatar posts with some odds and end photos from my visit there five years ago. They're out of order and have no rhyme or reason because that's just how I roll. Enjoy!
When you visit a Middle Eastern country, especially one like Qatar, you quickly learn just how warm and welcoming the people are. I was warned ahead of time to never tell a woman that I liked her necklace, bracelet, shoes, purse, etc. because she'd probably remove the item from her body and give it to me to keep. I visited my friend Nasser's home where his mother greeted me with hugs, three cheek kisses, and lots of laughs. Housemaids brought out trays and trays of snacks and drinks, serving us something new and exciting every ten or so minutes, just like clockwork. His adorable fluffy cats kept us company, too.
The call to prayer plays five times a day, and you can hear it throughout the city, inside hotels, restaurants, and even from radio stations in your car. I found that most people would stop what they were doing and pray. I remember being at a beach where families were playing in the water and then suddenly the call to prayer started, and rows of Qataris lined up in the same direction (toward Mecca) and prayed. It was always a beautiful thing to witness. I never grew tired of it. I was able to see the inside of a modern-day mosque (as well as the ancient one pictured below) and it was just like you'd imagine. Large, peaceful, and incredibly beautiful. They're separated by gender and you must wash your hands, face, and feet before entering.
Some of the most expensive cars I've ever seen are just regular, everyday cars in Doha. Most cars are white because of how hot the sun gets during the day. Seeing teenagers sitting behind the wheel of a Maserati or Lamborghini wearing a thobe or abaya was always a fun sight to see. (Yes, women drive in Qatar.) Drag racing is super popular, but I didn't get to catch any of it during my stay. Something else I missed out on - camel racing!
As a visitor, I kept my shoulders and legs covered at all times. Even in that hot, hot heat, I wore a light sweater or scarf as well as jeans, capris, or skirts that came to just below my knees. Most days getting in the car felt like torture, with the suffocating heat overtaking you immediately, and rolling down the windows brought no relief. Air conditioning is a must, and it's everywhere.
After swimming for hours, I was told that if you're up high enough in the hotel nearby, you can see the jellyfish surrounding the people in the water down below. Supposedly the scene resembles a game of Frogger. How comforting! I didn't see any, but I do remember reaching down and grabbing clumps of sand and shells, finding dozens of adorable treasures in each handful.
The sunsets were spectacular, and you could always feel a bit of excitement filling the air as soon as the sun went down each night. As I mentioned in my Souq post, the city really comes alive after the sun goes down. Most of the drinking actually takes place in hotel bars, and if a man is wearing his thobe, he's not allowed in. I ate so much free edamame at the hotel bars! When enjoying dinner out at a restaurant, it was common to see men fighting over the bill. This "fighting" usually involved deep, serious eye contact, no speaking, and each man firmly holding one side of the bill until someone finally caved. Qataris love to pay for your entire meal and seem a bit offended when you offer to pay for theirs. This generosity was something I had a hard time adjusting to. I couldn't help but feel guilty all the time!
Obviously, I have tons and tons of photos, but I'll spare you. I have such a hard time narrowing them down. I'll end this post with one of my favorite and most appropriate Sylvia Plath quotes. As always, thanks for reading. xo
“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.” ― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar