A friend of mine had been to this cave out in the desert in Qatar a few weeks ago and I had asked him to take me the next time he went. As luck would have it, there was a sandstorm that day, but that didn't affect life beneath ground, so we went anyway.
Had a great time...
Showing posts with label Qatar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Qatar. Show all posts
May 19, 2009
February 13, 2009
Instant Part I
I have been in a good place lately. I feel comfortable in my clothes. I breathe easily. I create. I learn. I grow. My thoughts and ideas seem to be caught in a synergetic dance with my hopes and dreams.
This video is a testament to by newly found appreciation for freedom. The freedom to express and document every minuscule detail of our realities, in hopes that maybe someone out there will relate and connect. Someone will see that the things I struggle with are the same things they struggle with. We’ll see that we are on a similar journey, and it behooves us to design and share a map.
This video is my contribution to the map.
When I was younger I wanted to be a writer and publish books. I wanted to share my story. The problem was and still is that I have yet to hear my story, so the books remain unwritten. The beauty of the modern age is that I am writing my life across the Internet, in the photos I post, the films I make, the blog posts I write, the books I read and the music I listen to, are all pieces of the mosaic that is my life.
These clues are only pixels in the picture of my existence. Then to realize that this existence is nothing more than a speck in the universe.
So sit back and enjoy. It has not always been able to show people what the world looks like through your eyes.
So let the discussion begin: What makes your life unique? What's the world like in your life?
This video is a testament to by newly found appreciation for freedom. The freedom to express and document every minuscule detail of our realities, in hopes that maybe someone out there will relate and connect. Someone will see that the things I struggle with are the same things they struggle with. We’ll see that we are on a similar journey, and it behooves us to design and share a map.
This video is my contribution to the map.
When I was younger I wanted to be a writer and publish books. I wanted to share my story. The problem was and still is that I have yet to hear my story, so the books remain unwritten. The beauty of the modern age is that I am writing my life across the Internet, in the photos I post, the films I make, the blog posts I write, the books I read and the music I listen to, are all pieces of the mosaic that is my life.
These clues are only pixels in the picture of my existence. Then to realize that this existence is nothing more than a speck in the universe.
So sit back and enjoy. It has not always been able to show people what the world looks like through your eyes.
So let the discussion begin: What makes your life unique? What's the world like in your life?
February 12, 2009
Sand Storm Bruises
A drive home during the first sand storm of 2009. The song is called Bruises by Chairlift:
December 5, 2008
Last Hours of Ancient Sunlight
You are not something permanent experiencing something impermanent. You are something impermanent experiencing something impermanent.Thich Nhat Hanh
August 13, 2008
My Place to be Happy
Sitting in my kitchen, for better or worse in my desert home. Outside a half moon evaporates behind another sandstorm who forces her way across the Arabian desert only to dissipate into the Persian Gulf. Been nursing a cold for two days and waiting for a sign to kick-start my new year. Resolutions and life changes are piling up under old habits and same-old-ways. I mentally pull them out each day and get them ready for presentation.
The days are filled with a hopefulness I haven’t felt in a while. Crawling my way out from under the weight of the world to find my place to be happy. Trying to find a way to make small choices that will reconnect me to the earth and the gifts she has given me throughout my life.
The days are filled with a hopefulness I haven’t felt in a while. Crawling my way out from under the weight of the world to find my place to be happy. Trying to find a way to make small choices that will reconnect me to the earth and the gifts she has given me throughout my life.
June 18, 2008
Incomprehensible to Ourselves.
I have done a lot of whining here at Intrepid Flame the last few months. I have, selfishly, assumed that being fired from my job was some sort of global calamity. I have assumed that being out of the classroom has somehow been on par with the millions of people who never have the opportunity to work for enough food for their families, and here I am drinking five-dollar cappuccinos, upset because I have to wait eight more days to start my summer vacation which includes air trips to Kuala Lumpur, San Francisco, and New Mexico.
I am not proud of my behavior, but it has been partly beyond my control. We often react to our lives in ways that are incomprehensible to ourselves. My wife and I were arguing this morning in the car. She asked me to stop being so grumpy and get out of my funk. I am tired of being in Doha. It is hot and the sky is filled with a ten-day-old sand storm. I haven’t seen the sun in just as long, and I yearn for the days when it was simply hot and stifling. It is hard not to be grumpy.
I try not to be so selfish. I see the laborers on the side of the road working themselves to near death for little to no money as I drive by in my air-conditioned car. I make myself sick. I hate Doha more for the guilt it inflicts on me. It is a vicious cycle. But really, my time here has got to be a test. I do not want to be the kind of person whose happiness is determined by his environment. I want to be able to wake up and see the sky filled with sand and smile. I want to walk the streets feeling the 120-degree heat and bask in it. I want to delve into the freedom of boredom and come out refreshed and lighter.
These are not easy tasks to accomplish. Our egos demand more attention than we may want to give them. I am writing this post as an apology to my wife for being in a constant state of funk. We have an amazing summer ahead of us, and we are lucky enough to be careless and free- even here for the next eight days. We have our four-year anniversary to celebrate, as well as day-after-day of relaxing and spending time as a family. Who cares if the weather is not perfect? Who cares if there is nothing to do? Who cares about anything? We are alive and free to do what we like.
In closing, I received the following email that put things in perceptive:
Thank you Sama. It is funny, when I started this blog I wanted to have a huge following and connect with thousands of people, but since then I have learned that I write more for my own sanity. Having said that, it is always reassuring when someone out there in the universe hears my voice and makes the connection. I am glad you find my ramblings wise, because I simply see my words and thoughts as they are: life. We all connect to it in our own way, it is reaffirming when we connect in the same way.
I am not proud of my behavior, but it has been partly beyond my control. We often react to our lives in ways that are incomprehensible to ourselves. My wife and I were arguing this morning in the car. She asked me to stop being so grumpy and get out of my funk. I am tired of being in Doha. It is hot and the sky is filled with a ten-day-old sand storm. I haven’t seen the sun in just as long, and I yearn for the days when it was simply hot and stifling. It is hard not to be grumpy.
I try not to be so selfish. I see the laborers on the side of the road working themselves to near death for little to no money as I drive by in my air-conditioned car. I make myself sick. I hate Doha more for the guilt it inflicts on me. It is a vicious cycle. But really, my time here has got to be a test. I do not want to be the kind of person whose happiness is determined by his environment. I want to be able to wake up and see the sky filled with sand and smile. I want to walk the streets feeling the 120-degree heat and bask in it. I want to delve into the freedom of boredom and come out refreshed and lighter.
These are not easy tasks to accomplish. Our egos demand more attention than we may want to give them. I am writing this post as an apology to my wife for being in a constant state of funk. We have an amazing summer ahead of us, and we are lucky enough to be careless and free- even here for the next eight days. We have our four-year anniversary to celebrate, as well as day-after-day of relaxing and spending time as a family. Who cares if the weather is not perfect? Who cares if there is nothing to do? Who cares about anything? We are alive and free to do what we like.
In closing, I received the following email that put things in perceptive:
Dear Intrepid Flame,
Thank you for your writing. I have no idea who you are or where you came from, but somehow I stumbled upon your blog several months ago and fell in love with your words - your wisdom. I couldn't go to sleep tonight without letting you know that - for what it's worth :)
No, I'm not a stalker or flatterer or a maniac at that. Just another intrepid explorer sharing her thoughts. Hope this finds you well and I wish you and your loved ones all the best.
Peace,
Sama
Thank you Sama. It is funny, when I started this blog I wanted to have a huge following and connect with thousands of people, but since then I have learned that I write more for my own sanity. Having said that, it is always reassuring when someone out there in the universe hears my voice and makes the connection. I am glad you find my ramblings wise, because I simply see my words and thoughts as they are: life. We all connect to it in our own way, it is reaffirming when we connect in the same way.
December 20, 2007
hero (part one: hard to explain)
I can't believe it has taken me this long to finally post to YouTube, but I have finished my first short film. The description reads:
The first in a series of short films depicting the growth of Doha, Qatar as seen from an Indian made bicycle The Hero. I hope to capture a variety of moods and textures in this series. While I hope that these films will simply be enjoyed as moving photographs, I hope they make some sort of subtle commentary on the labor involved in building a 21st city out of sand.
I look forward to continuing with the series. There are many places for you to comment, so please let me know what you think.
The first in a series of short films depicting the growth of Doha, Qatar as seen from an Indian made bicycle The Hero. I hope to capture a variety of moods and textures in this series. While I hope that these films will simply be enjoyed as moving photographs, I hope they make some sort of subtle commentary on the labor involved in building a 21st city out of sand.
I look forward to continuing with the series. There are many places for you to comment, so please let me know what you think.
December 15, 2007
Inland Sea
I am covered in sand, salt, and sweat. I spent a surreal day four-wheeling in the Arabian desert. A few friends and I ventured out to the Inland Sea that separates Qatar from Saudi Arabia. It was a day filled with getting stuck in the sand, adrenaline, driving through water, sun and water...oh did I mention the camels.
The sea is a place where many people go to show off their big cars and ATVs, and burn off a bunch of fossil fuels. While this type of recreation is definitely not my cup of tea, it was worth going once ,to see the sea itself, which was beautiful and refreshing out there in the middle of all the sand, and I did snap a few shots...
The sea is a place where many people go to show off their big cars and ATVs, and burn off a bunch of fossil fuels. While this type of recreation is definitely not my cup of tea, it was worth going once ,to see the sea itself, which was beautiful and refreshing out there in the middle of all the sand, and I did snap a few shots...
December 1, 2007
Garden
I have been meaning to take some pictures of the garden that I am constantly talking about and write a longer piece about the whole experience, but seeing that this in depth coverage could take a while, I have decided to post a few quick shots. I wish I had taken some before shots and after shots, but try to imagine an empty rock, sand, and rubble pit where you now see life...
November 26, 2007
Brittle Blue Sky
The air is cooling here in Doha. Gone or going is the unwelcome sluggishness that comes with unbearable heat. The mornings are crisp as the brittle blue sky looms overhead. I recently bought an Indian made bike that weighs about one hundred pounds and I ride it to school. I start each day with my iPod blasting a shuffled mood from my playlist. This morning as I swallowed mouthfuls of air, observed the growing vegetation on the street medians, and felt the cool breeze swish by my rolling wheels, I blasted Sweet Child of Mine by Guns and Roses. It was as close to perfect as I have gotten in a while. There is something new coming. Innovation change. Novelty. Fresh…by the way I booked my tickets to Tunisia last night.
Where do we go?
Where do we go now?
Where do we go?
Sweet child o' mine
Where do we go now?
Where do we go?
Sweet child o' mine
November 25, 2007
It's An Art To Live With Pain
It’s been a rough week here at Intrepid Flame. It started with an infestation of tasteless and inappropriate comments form, none other than, a former student of mine. I am not sure what prompted him to become so angry with me and abuse me with such a tongue lashing, but it just goes to show that you can pour your heart and soul into trying to reach kids and teach them, but at the end of the day they may tell you to go and fuck yourself. This is a great lesson in humility. Here I am thinking that I am making an authentic connection with these kids. I understand them, I tell myself. I am honest with them. I am open with them, and all the while they think I am just another schmuck like I thought all of my teachers were.
As I write these words, I can see that student or at least the one I think it was who left the comments, nodding his head and smiling, agreeing with me. This demotion from inspirational teacher to jackass is not an easy pill to swallow, but a crucial one nonetheless I suppose. I deleted the comments and have since added a comment moderation feature, something I wad loathe do, because I hate censorship of all kind, but I didn’t feel the kid was actually reading what I was writing; he was simply lashing out at me. I contemplated just ignoring the whole fiasco, but I have a few things to say to you if you are reading:
I remember the rage. The fear. The insecurity that forces us to push hard against anything in our way. I remember feeling it when I was in the third grade when my life changed forever. Ever since, I have been looking for opportunities to let my guard down, but for a long time none were forth coming. This insular and limited sense of self caused me to feel much pain. I was lost for much of my life. Lost in anger. Lost with drugs and alcohol. Lost alone. Somewhere out in the emptiness, however, I realized that I need not push so hard. I need not fight constantly. I can simply relax and be.
When I first read your comments, you who I thought I had gone out of my way to try and connect to because I could see you were entering the lonely world of rage, I was hurt and livid. My initial response was one of seething revenge, but the days have passed and I am realizing that I am still the teacher, the adult, I have been through this while you, a young man, most likely alone are still facing your demons. So whoever you are, if you are reading this, I say keep throwing your punches till your arms grow weary, I will be here to take your blows. I will not allow you to publicly humiliate me, so I will leave the comments moderated, but if you need someone to abuse, I am here, better me than yourself. Unfortunately I cannot show you the way, you must find your own path, but I can tell you this: The sooner you rid yourself of your anger, the easier everything becomes. I am not sure what I have done to you to cause you so much distress, but I apologize for whatever it was. I did nothing more than try to teach you how to face the world. I guess my problem was that I myself am still trying to figure that out.
I hope for my sake that your words were simple thoughtless adolescent foolishness and nothing more. If your intentions were to hurt me: You succeeded. I hope that you can now move on. There is not much more I can say.
The second issue I am facing at this Intrepid Flame is a conversation I had with someone close to me, about the nature of blogging, and I suppose writing and self-expression as a whole. She is worried that I am exposing myself too much out here in cyberland. The conversation we shared was long and wasnprompted by the very comments I mentioned above, but the gist of it was: should there be a filter on self-expression especially in the form of blogging? How much is too much information? How much is too personal? I think she is worried that I may bring on the wrath of undesirables, or the State Department, or the Qatari emir. I do not flatter myself that any more that the twenty people I harass on a regular basis to read these words, even know that I exist, but let us say that she is right and big brother is watching, how much honesty and self-revelation is too much?
Here is what I have to say:
I trust the world. I believe in good faith. I believe that if you act with good intentions and convictions that good things will come your way. I believe in openness and honesty, full disclosure- the more we hide from the world the more we are hiding from ourselves. I understand that we are all works in progress and that I often say things that perhaps I shouldn’t. I think that the words on this blog are adding up to be my life. I think that anyone I feel is worthy to judge me needs to read them all before making judgment. I say this because the person with whom I spoke is worried about me. She thought the irate student comments may have been some angry Qatari in response to my views on his country.
I guess the question is how valid our my opinions? How much freedom do I really have to express them? Are there things that we should fear to write about? Are these not the things we should be writing about? Isn’t challenging oppression and fear the only road to totally freedom? Again, I am not here to flatter myself into thinking that I am changing the world in anyway, apparently I am just a punching bag for teen angst, but isn’t that the role of writing, of art, of freedom, of the human spirit to stand up despite all fear and say that I trust the world. I believe in goodness, however nebulous that concept may be?
I will not, I cannot hide my thoughts about the world. They are all I have. After all what else do we really have but our positions on the realties that surround us? Is it dangerous to say that there is slavery here in Qatar, when I see it everyday? Isn’t it my duty if nothing else than to at least mention it? What can be more insignificant that wiring about major moral problems? If it is hazardous to point out skeletons in nations’ closests, where is this danger coming from? Is it wrong to say that I feel unwelcome in this country, am I offending anyone? Should I stop? There seem to be more questions than answers, but it is late so I will wrap this up. I will leave them for you…If you are out there and reading, what do you think?
I will, however, admit that she was right. I did write some of the lines from the previous post with haste and emotion. I had some pent up frustrations with my inability to adapt to a culture I am having a hard time understanding and appreciating. Some of what I said could irritate and offend some readers, and for that I apologize, but I hope that the few lines can be seen as small part of the larger whole that is this blog, that is me, that is my journey, that is the world. I am honest with my observations so as to nip them in the bud. If left to fester and unspoken these frustrations become racism, anger, conflict, war. I am simply tying to understand them as they come my way. I hope that all my views can be viewed objectively and as a whole.
I know that my words sometimes may be bold and aggressive, but at their core they are simply trying to understand the way to peace. The path to peace is a bumpy one, but it is one that I will walk without fear, because nothing I say, I hope is ever meant to cause pain, on the contrary I use these words to heal the pain I see inside and all around me.
This was a long post, but one a long time coming. I hope everyone out there who is reading this, especially the guy at the State Department or any other government organization monitoring the thoughts of a man trying to find himself, remembers what I have said here. But in reality, I have been working my ass of to try and build a readership and no matter what I do, I still feel like an invisible speck out here in the universe. Once again I think Pearl Jam nails it:
Is this just another day,... this god forgotten place?
First comes love and then comes pain. Let the games begin,...
Questions rise and answers fall,... insurmountable.
Love boat captain
Take the reigns and steer us towards the clear,... here.
It's already been sung, but it can't be said enough.
All you need is love
Is this just another phase of earthquakes making waves?
Trying to shake the cancer off us stupid human beings,...
Once you hold the hand of love,.. it's all surmountable.
Hold me, and make it the truth,...
That when all is lost there'll be you,...
Cause to the universe I don't mean a thing
And there's just one word I still believe
And it's love
It's an art to live with pain,... mix the light into grey,..
Lost 9 friends we'll never know,.. 2 years ago today
And if our lives became too long, would it add to our regret?
And the young, they can lose hope cause they can't see beyond today,...
The wisdom that the old can't give away.
Hey,... constant recoil...
Sometimes life don't leave you alone.
Hold me, and make it the truth,...
That when all is lost there will be you.
Cause to the universe I don't mean a thing
And there's just one word that I still believe and it's
Love,... love. love. love. love.
Love boat captain
Take the reigns,.. steer us towards the clear.
I know it's already been sung,... can't be said enough.
Love is all you need,.. all you need is love,..
Love,.. love,...
As I write these words, I can see that student or at least the one I think it was who left the comments, nodding his head and smiling, agreeing with me. This demotion from inspirational teacher to jackass is not an easy pill to swallow, but a crucial one nonetheless I suppose. I deleted the comments and have since added a comment moderation feature, something I wad loathe do, because I hate censorship of all kind, but I didn’t feel the kid was actually reading what I was writing; he was simply lashing out at me. I contemplated just ignoring the whole fiasco, but I have a few things to say to you if you are reading:
I remember the rage. The fear. The insecurity that forces us to push hard against anything in our way. I remember feeling it when I was in the third grade when my life changed forever. Ever since, I have been looking for opportunities to let my guard down, but for a long time none were forth coming. This insular and limited sense of self caused me to feel much pain. I was lost for much of my life. Lost in anger. Lost with drugs and alcohol. Lost alone. Somewhere out in the emptiness, however, I realized that I need not push so hard. I need not fight constantly. I can simply relax and be.
When I first read your comments, you who I thought I had gone out of my way to try and connect to because I could see you were entering the lonely world of rage, I was hurt and livid. My initial response was one of seething revenge, but the days have passed and I am realizing that I am still the teacher, the adult, I have been through this while you, a young man, most likely alone are still facing your demons. So whoever you are, if you are reading this, I say keep throwing your punches till your arms grow weary, I will be here to take your blows. I will not allow you to publicly humiliate me, so I will leave the comments moderated, but if you need someone to abuse, I am here, better me than yourself. Unfortunately I cannot show you the way, you must find your own path, but I can tell you this: The sooner you rid yourself of your anger, the easier everything becomes. I am not sure what I have done to you to cause you so much distress, but I apologize for whatever it was. I did nothing more than try to teach you how to face the world. I guess my problem was that I myself am still trying to figure that out.
I hope for my sake that your words were simple thoughtless adolescent foolishness and nothing more. If your intentions were to hurt me: You succeeded. I hope that you can now move on. There is not much more I can say.
The second issue I am facing at this Intrepid Flame is a conversation I had with someone close to me, about the nature of blogging, and I suppose writing and self-expression as a whole. She is worried that I am exposing myself too much out here in cyberland. The conversation we shared was long and wasnprompted by the very comments I mentioned above, but the gist of it was: should there be a filter on self-expression especially in the form of blogging? How much is too much information? How much is too personal? I think she is worried that I may bring on the wrath of undesirables, or the State Department, or the Qatari emir. I do not flatter myself that any more that the twenty people I harass on a regular basis to read these words, even know that I exist, but let us say that she is right and big brother is watching, how much honesty and self-revelation is too much?
Here is what I have to say:
I trust the world. I believe in good faith. I believe that if you act with good intentions and convictions that good things will come your way. I believe in openness and honesty, full disclosure- the more we hide from the world the more we are hiding from ourselves. I understand that we are all works in progress and that I often say things that perhaps I shouldn’t. I think that the words on this blog are adding up to be my life. I think that anyone I feel is worthy to judge me needs to read them all before making judgment. I say this because the person with whom I spoke is worried about me. She thought the irate student comments may have been some angry Qatari in response to my views on his country.
I guess the question is how valid our my opinions? How much freedom do I really have to express them? Are there things that we should fear to write about? Are these not the things we should be writing about? Isn’t challenging oppression and fear the only road to totally freedom? Again, I am not here to flatter myself into thinking that I am changing the world in anyway, apparently I am just a punching bag for teen angst, but isn’t that the role of writing, of art, of freedom, of the human spirit to stand up despite all fear and say that I trust the world. I believe in goodness, however nebulous that concept may be?
I will not, I cannot hide my thoughts about the world. They are all I have. After all what else do we really have but our positions on the realties that surround us? Is it dangerous to say that there is slavery here in Qatar, when I see it everyday? Isn’t it my duty if nothing else than to at least mention it? What can be more insignificant that wiring about major moral problems? If it is hazardous to point out skeletons in nations’ closests, where is this danger coming from? Is it wrong to say that I feel unwelcome in this country, am I offending anyone? Should I stop? There seem to be more questions than answers, but it is late so I will wrap this up. I will leave them for you…If you are out there and reading, what do you think?
I will, however, admit that she was right. I did write some of the lines from the previous post with haste and emotion. I had some pent up frustrations with my inability to adapt to a culture I am having a hard time understanding and appreciating. Some of what I said could irritate and offend some readers, and for that I apologize, but I hope that the few lines can be seen as small part of the larger whole that is this blog, that is me, that is my journey, that is the world. I am honest with my observations so as to nip them in the bud. If left to fester and unspoken these frustrations become racism, anger, conflict, war. I am simply tying to understand them as they come my way. I hope that all my views can be viewed objectively and as a whole.
I know that my words sometimes may be bold and aggressive, but at their core they are simply trying to understand the way to peace. The path to peace is a bumpy one, but it is one that I will walk without fear, because nothing I say, I hope is ever meant to cause pain, on the contrary I use these words to heal the pain I see inside and all around me.
This was a long post, but one a long time coming. I hope everyone out there who is reading this, especially the guy at the State Department or any other government organization monitoring the thoughts of a man trying to find himself, remembers what I have said here. But in reality, I have been working my ass of to try and build a readership and no matter what I do, I still feel like an invisible speck out here in the universe. Once again I think Pearl Jam nails it:
Is this just another day,... this god forgotten place?
First comes love and then comes pain. Let the games begin,...
Questions rise and answers fall,... insurmountable.
Love boat captain
Take the reigns and steer us towards the clear,... here.
It's already been sung, but it can't be said enough.
All you need is love
Is this just another phase of earthquakes making waves?
Trying to shake the cancer off us stupid human beings,...
Once you hold the hand of love,.. it's all surmountable.
Hold me, and make it the truth,...
That when all is lost there'll be you,...
Cause to the universe I don't mean a thing
And there's just one word I still believe
And it's love
It's an art to live with pain,... mix the light into grey,..
Lost 9 friends we'll never know,.. 2 years ago today
And if our lives became too long, would it add to our regret?
And the young, they can lose hope cause they can't see beyond today,...
The wisdom that the old can't give away.
Hey,... constant recoil...
Sometimes life don't leave you alone.
Hold me, and make it the truth,...
That when all is lost there will be you.
Cause to the universe I don't mean a thing
And there's just one word that I still believe and it's
Love,... love. love. love. love.
Love boat captain
Take the reigns,.. steer us towards the clear.
I know it's already been sung,... can't be said enough.
Love is all you need,.. all you need is love,..
Love,.. love,...
October 7, 2007
Rock Garden Weekend
The weather is becoming cooler here. It no longer feels like a frontal assault every time you open the door to a place that is not air-conditioned. They say that by November it will actually be enjoyable: cool nights and cloudless agreeable days.
My weekend:
Thursday night found me in my front yard hosting a pre-party for one of the biggest parties of the year. I didn’t plan on going. Every year one of the teachers from our school invites two hundred and fifty people to her compound clubhouse for an Oktoberfest. Standing around watching people get drunk while I stayed sober didn’t sound like my cup of tea, however sitting on our new patio furniture smoking my hookah, chit chatting with new friends before they went off to party, did.
Obviously they talked me into going. At one point I found myself walking home through the desert at one am as a blood soaked moon lay crescent I the sky. Counting down a few more days till the end of Ramadan. The party sucked. I watched people get wasted on Jell-O shots and squirts of Tequila from a super soaker, as they told me how much they admired me for not drinking. I shared a few of my stories, like the X-mas tree jail tale to the awe and pleasure of my new drunken friends. Maybe next time I will roll out some cocaine or acid stories, I told them. They looked at me like I was HST, although they have no idea who he is. I felt so cool being sober. Since everyone was drunk, I was the odd man out. Once again I found a way to experience my own reality.
The next day: ran errands, took Kaia to the pool and watched an episode of American Dad that I bought on iTunes and watched on my ipod connected to my TV. I am making technology work for me.
Today, I collected nine 11x14 and three 8x10 photo for the frames in our house. I cleaned them all and put up my photos throughout the house. It is nearly done. A large mirror still needs to be mounted on the wall, and we still need to put up a few wall hangings form Laos and Vietnam and we can relax.
Then I went to the dump to collect two carloads of rocks for the little garden I am building outside my curb. Pics coming soon. After that I was off to the Plant Souq, or market, to buy some greenery for my enclosed yard. I bought two Bougainvilleas, a Frangipani, and a few other trees. It was dark by the time I got home, so I will plant them tomorrow. Gardening may be my new Zen meditation thing, if I can keep it up. I will keep you posted
I am reading a mediocre Kurt Vonnegut booked, called Galapagos, so I have to get to bed, if I want to finish it so I can get back to my Vidal series, Hollywood arrived last week.
My weekend:
Thursday night found me in my front yard hosting a pre-party for one of the biggest parties of the year. I didn’t plan on going. Every year one of the teachers from our school invites two hundred and fifty people to her compound clubhouse for an Oktoberfest. Standing around watching people get drunk while I stayed sober didn’t sound like my cup of tea, however sitting on our new patio furniture smoking my hookah, chit chatting with new friends before they went off to party, did.
Obviously they talked me into going. At one point I found myself walking home through the desert at one am as a blood soaked moon lay crescent I the sky. Counting down a few more days till the end of Ramadan. The party sucked. I watched people get wasted on Jell-O shots and squirts of Tequila from a super soaker, as they told me how much they admired me for not drinking. I shared a few of my stories, like the X-mas tree jail tale to the awe and pleasure of my new drunken friends. Maybe next time I will roll out some cocaine or acid stories, I told them. They looked at me like I was HST, although they have no idea who he is. I felt so cool being sober. Since everyone was drunk, I was the odd man out. Once again I found a way to experience my own reality.
The next day: ran errands, took Kaia to the pool and watched an episode of American Dad that I bought on iTunes and watched on my ipod connected to my TV. I am making technology work for me.
Today, I collected nine 11x14 and three 8x10 photo for the frames in our house. I cleaned them all and put up my photos throughout the house. It is nearly done. A large mirror still needs to be mounted on the wall, and we still need to put up a few wall hangings form Laos and Vietnam and we can relax.
Then I went to the dump to collect two carloads of rocks for the little garden I am building outside my curb. Pics coming soon. After that I was off to the Plant Souq, or market, to buy some greenery for my enclosed yard. I bought two Bougainvilleas, a Frangipani, and a few other trees. It was dark by the time I got home, so I will plant them tomorrow. Gardening may be my new Zen meditation thing, if I can keep it up. I will keep you posted
I am reading a mediocre Kurt Vonnegut booked, called Galapagos, so I have to get to bed, if I want to finish it so I can get back to my Vidal series, Hollywood arrived last week.
September 13, 2007
Intrepid of Arabia Part II
I have come to the realization that if I wait and try to perfect each post I write about Doha, I will never post anything. I have thus decided to simply right quick vignettes and post them as often as possible and simply let you the reader sort through and make sense of them. Here is something I wrote a few weeks ago now:
Tomorrow will mark our two-week anniversary of living in Doha. In my last post I wrote mostly about the move and how we are settling in, and while there is a lot to say on that front, I want to take the time to document my thoughts on the city itself, my impressions of the culture here, and how I see myself adapting to living in a place that is so different from any place I have ever lived. (This process of document my experience here will take much longer than I thought.)
I like to think of myself as a life-long expatriate. I like the idea of not having any one country that I call home. I pride myself on living in as many different places as possible in a lifetime. There is so much to see, and I see no reason why one must remain in one country their entire life. Although it can be extremely frustrating at times to constantly move from one system of operations to the next, I feel it is the adventurer, writer, explorer in me that likes to put myself into uncomfortable, different and at times difficult situations to see whether or not I can handle them. If one sees the world as a place of learning and every experience, no matter now exasperating as valuable, than every minute offers you something worth contemplation and growth.
By this logic, I am actually excited that while all my colleagues simply gave the DMV here a copy of their American driver’s licenses in order to obtain a Qatari one, I will have to take a two week driving course to obtain mine, because my American license is expired. I am sure I will curse my way through the entire painful process, but the fact that I can tell my grandkids that I went to a Qatari driver school is important to me. In the meantime I bought a car and drive hoping nothing will happen. I can't start the class until I get my residency permit and that could be weeks a way.
So why the lengthy introduction? Mainly because, I don’t want this post or any others I may write in the future about Doha to sound judgmental, negative or sound as if I am complaining. I simply want to try and document my time here in as honest of a way as I can. I am sure my outlook will change the more time I spend here, so it will be interesting to read these initial posts a year from now.
Doha is the capital of a small country on the Arabian peninsula called Qatar, correctly pronounced cutter. I do not want to get too far into the history of this tiny country. A quick look at wikipedia will be far more concise and accurate; I do however want to simply share a few facts about the country that at this time I find relevant to my view of it’s culture and the people I see, but don’t necessarily interact with. Some of the things I will explain I have read, others I have witnessed first hand:
Qatar is currently a world leader in natural gas reserves. What this means is that there are trillions of dollars pouring into this country at a rate that the native Qatari population doesn’t know what to do with. Some things they are doing besides buying Hummers and Louis Vutton luggage is building! The entire city of Doha is one huge construction site. It feels like we have moved to another planet and that they are building the city from scratch. I imagine that San Francisco must have been like this in 1849 with the discovery of gold, and like all boomtowns, this empire is being built by slave labor.
to be continued...
Tomorrow will mark our two-week anniversary of living in Doha. In my last post I wrote mostly about the move and how we are settling in, and while there is a lot to say on that front, I want to take the time to document my thoughts on the city itself, my impressions of the culture here, and how I see myself adapting to living in a place that is so different from any place I have ever lived. (This process of document my experience here will take much longer than I thought.)
I like to think of myself as a life-long expatriate. I like the idea of not having any one country that I call home. I pride myself on living in as many different places as possible in a lifetime. There is so much to see, and I see no reason why one must remain in one country their entire life. Although it can be extremely frustrating at times to constantly move from one system of operations to the next, I feel it is the adventurer, writer, explorer in me that likes to put myself into uncomfortable, different and at times difficult situations to see whether or not I can handle them. If one sees the world as a place of learning and every experience, no matter now exasperating as valuable, than every minute offers you something worth contemplation and growth.
By this logic, I am actually excited that while all my colleagues simply gave the DMV here a copy of their American driver’s licenses in order to obtain a Qatari one, I will have to take a two week driving course to obtain mine, because my American license is expired. I am sure I will curse my way through the entire painful process, but the fact that I can tell my grandkids that I went to a Qatari driver school is important to me. In the meantime I bought a car and drive hoping nothing will happen. I can't start the class until I get my residency permit and that could be weeks a way.
So why the lengthy introduction? Mainly because, I don’t want this post or any others I may write in the future about Doha to sound judgmental, negative or sound as if I am complaining. I simply want to try and document my time here in as honest of a way as I can. I am sure my outlook will change the more time I spend here, so it will be interesting to read these initial posts a year from now.
Doha is the capital of a small country on the Arabian peninsula called Qatar, correctly pronounced cutter. I do not want to get too far into the history of this tiny country. A quick look at wikipedia will be far more concise and accurate; I do however want to simply share a few facts about the country that at this time I find relevant to my view of it’s culture and the people I see, but don’t necessarily interact with. Some of the things I will explain I have read, others I have witnessed first hand:
Qatar is currently a world leader in natural gas reserves. What this means is that there are trillions of dollars pouring into this country at a rate that the native Qatari population doesn’t know what to do with. Some things they are doing besides buying Hummers and Louis Vutton luggage is building! The entire city of Doha is one huge construction site. It feels like we have moved to another planet and that they are building the city from scratch. I imagine that San Francisco must have been like this in 1849 with the discovery of gold, and like all boomtowns, this empire is being built by slave labor.
to be continued...
September 8, 2007
Home Sweet Home
I t has been a long few weeks getting adjusted to life here in Qatar. Between trying to find a nanny, a car, and getting settled in at school, it seems that every second is taken up "taking care of business." But as always we have realized that the first step to feeling comfortable is to create a comfortable home an dafter a few weeks of painting, unpacking, and organizing we are nearly there! Although we are still about a week from putting up our artwork, photographs and organizing our trinkets, i thought i would post some photos of the metamorphosis our house has taken, from "Saudi Gaudy," to our home.
Let me start by saying that we have too much stuff, because we were not aware that we couldn't remove the furniture that came with the house, so we found it challenging trying to make room for our things, while finding ways to hide the furniture in the house. Let's start the tour:
This is the left part of the living, or the TV nook. These are the couches we could live with.
After some paint and a trip to the Carrefour, we now have our very own home theater, complete with a 37" LCD TV and surround sound speakers.
This the dining room. Before we left Malaysia we bought an antique Tibetan door turned dining room table, thinking that we could simply remove whatever was in the new house, but as I mentioned that was not the case. So we decided to shrink this table down and use it a a desk in the study and hide all the chairs around the house.
Here is our table and chairs. We are going to put a large mirror on the green wall later this week.
Kaia's room was so depressing when we first arrived. All she had was a pack and play and a few suitcases.
But a little pink and green paint and ten hours of mommy and daddy killing themselves with Ikea furniture and you have a splendid place to play.
She really likes to spend time in her room now.
Here is the hall/library wing before:
and after. Books have since been put on the shelves.
Here is a shot of the hallway going the other way toward the dining and living room.
We plan on filling this hall with photographs, I have taken from around the world. The frames have been cleaned and the images are being chosen as we speak.
Here is our bedroom before...
and after. Again the paintings and photos are not yet on the walls.
Here is the entire living room and the front door.
The right side of the living room or as we call the sitting room. that yellow couch is the bane of our existence. It is hideous and there is nothing we can do with it.
Abracadapra...and a few hundred boxes of our crap!
and voila!
The dining room from afar.
TV room looking into the kitchen.
Speaking of the kitchen, here is Mairin knee deep in boxes.
As you can see, the place has come a long way. you may be asking yourself if there are any bathrooms in the place and the answer is yes, there are three, but since this is a brand new house, we are facing some challenging plumbing issues at the moment and none of the bathrooms have been decorated for fear of flooding. That is part of Phase II in operation move in. The front yard is also a barren brick field right now. We are waiting for the summer to go away so we can buy some greenery for the yard. We will as always keep you posted. I am also working on a video tour of our hood, but with school starting tomorrow that may be a few weeks. Life in Doha is becoming normal and we are adjusting quite well. We are looking for a car this week, and maybe a few nights of sitting around and watching movies on our new huge TV!
Let me start by saying that we have too much stuff, because we were not aware that we couldn't remove the furniture that came with the house, so we found it challenging trying to make room for our things, while finding ways to hide the furniture in the house. Let's start the tour:
This is the left part of the living, or the TV nook. These are the couches we could live with.
After some paint and a trip to the Carrefour, we now have our very own home theater, complete with a 37" LCD TV and surround sound speakers.
This the dining room. Before we left Malaysia we bought an antique Tibetan door turned dining room table, thinking that we could simply remove whatever was in the new house, but as I mentioned that was not the case. So we decided to shrink this table down and use it a a desk in the study and hide all the chairs around the house.
Here is our table and chairs. We are going to put a large mirror on the green wall later this week.
Kaia's room was so depressing when we first arrived. All she had was a pack and play and a few suitcases.
But a little pink and green paint and ten hours of mommy and daddy killing themselves with Ikea furniture and you have a splendid place to play.
She really likes to spend time in her room now.
Here is the hall/library wing before:
and after. Books have since been put on the shelves.
Here is a shot of the hallway going the other way toward the dining and living room.
We plan on filling this hall with photographs, I have taken from around the world. The frames have been cleaned and the images are being chosen as we speak.
Here is our bedroom before...
and after. Again the paintings and photos are not yet on the walls.
Here is the entire living room and the front door.
The right side of the living room or as we call the sitting room. that yellow couch is the bane of our existence. It is hideous and there is nothing we can do with it.
Abracadapra...and a few hundred boxes of our crap!
and voila!
The dining room from afar.
TV room looking into the kitchen.
Speaking of the kitchen, here is Mairin knee deep in boxes.
As you can see, the place has come a long way. you may be asking yourself if there are any bathrooms in the place and the answer is yes, there are three, but since this is a brand new house, we are facing some challenging plumbing issues at the moment and none of the bathrooms have been decorated for fear of flooding. That is part of Phase II in operation move in. The front yard is also a barren brick field right now. We are waiting for the summer to go away so we can buy some greenery for the yard. We will as always keep you posted. I am also working on a video tour of our hood, but with school starting tomorrow that may be a few weeks. Life in Doha is becoming normal and we are adjusting quite well. We are looking for a car this week, and maybe a few nights of sitting around and watching movies on our new huge TV!
August 21, 2007
Intrepid of Arabia Part I
It is ten p.m. on day four of our arrival here in Doha. I am lying in my king-size bed, adorned with sheets from Zara home, typing away on a brand new MacBook given to me by our school. A L’Occitane Orange Blossom candle flickers beneath the central cooling system, and outside and across the street there sits a barren construction site; it is 90 degrees. The sun set hours ago; during the day it is 105.
I will write a more comprehensive post regarding my first impressions of Doha and the culture here, in which I will juggle and experiment with the several metaphors I am considering to describe this surreal place: A pearl, a secret, or the obvious one an oasis. I want to use this time to let my friends and family know the practical details of life here in the desert.
Let’s start with the house. We are still waiting for our shipment from Malaysia, so I will hold off on sending pictures until the house is presentable, but in the meantime let me try and paint you a picture with text. The house is one of ten villas on Al Waab Street. Street is an overstatement. We live in the middle of a sand field surrounded by a construction site. We are number 21, there is no reason why that should be important except that 21 is my lucky number. The houses are all brand new. While most people, myself included would automatically think that freshness, when it comes to housing, is good thing, I think it is a good idea to keep in mind that complications can arise when you live in a house that has, up till your move, been vacant. For example, there are no shower curtains in one of the bathrooms, or the shower that has doors leaks water into the bedroom, because the drain has been precariously placed on a small mound in the center of the shower floor instead of being at the end of a gentle slope. I don’t want to sound like I am complaining, so I will stop with this statement- A new house has glitches that need to be tended before it can be properly and comfortably inhabited. Our school has assured us that these slight tribulations will be tended to at the earliest opportunity. We are flexible and okay with that. The kitchen is big and spacious and there is lots of light!
Rather than describe the house in further detail, I will ask you all to be patient and wait for the pictures in a few weeks. But here is a fun little quirk about living in the desert. Out water tank sits outside in our backyard above the ground, thus nearly boiling the water that comes through our pipes, making it nearly impossible to take a shower or find any cold water from the taps during the day. That is all I am going to say for now about the house. It is nice; it is new, it is comfortable; it has potential. Kaia seems to love running around all the open space.
Let’s move on to our school. We have been attending daily orientation meetings and the school itself is one huge constructions site. (See the trend) There must be at least 200 South Asian men (There will be a future post about my thoughts on slave labor and the moral dilemmas one has living so close to exploitation. Doha has a population of 300,000 people with two thirds of them foreigners working construction and in the service industry.) working in the stifling heat to make sure the school will be opened by September fourth. There is no way this will happen. The administration is optimistic, but realistically there are still a few weeks till we can bring in students. I am not sure how they will handle this. We will wait and see. We are flexible and okay with that. (see the second trend) But Oh my god, what a school this will be. They are building an entirely new Middle and High School wing and it is out of control! The design is inspiring and I can honestly say more imaginative and practical that my university. It is all glass with spacious classrooms, a huge indoor pool, track, library, presentation rooms, a 700-person state of the art theater with orchestra pit, fountains, and a baseball field complete with dugouts and a concession stand. Again I will not send pictures now, because it looks like crap, but wait and see what this place will look like in a few months. Do you see the third theme here in Doha? Potential!
The curriculum and the Atlas Rubicon system they use to share the Understanding by Design Units is so far ahead of my last school that I am giddy with anticipation to get started. The admin seems friendly and professional, and the fellow new staff has potential for some friendships. All in all, we are settling in nicely.
I did, however, experience some culture shock the first few days. Doha is a place of contradictions. Where else can you see women dressed in full black Arabyas, with their entire faces covered as their children dance to Pussy Cat Dolls blaring from the radios and giant Plasma TVs at Carrefour at 9pm? The city itself is a barren, hot, dust covered, flat no man’s land, but then you can take a Gondola ride or go ice skating at the mall as you shop at the Gap, drink a Starbucks coffee and get the latest CD at the Virgin Megastore while people watching. There is so much to see, photograph and write about, but, I will write more on the city soon. There will be my trip to the falcon market, camel races, jet skiing in the bay, sailing lessons, 4WD in the sand dunes, camping at the inland sea near Saudi Arabia, trips to Jordan, Oman, Turkey, Iran, and Bahrain, and I am sure a million other things, like the fact that I was dancing with Kaia the other day to the 80’s hit Mickey as a Qatarti family looked on contemplating the birds and fish on my arms. Wahabi Islam I am here!
It is getting late and I must be up early tomorrow for work. I will have Internet hooked up at our house in a few days, so I can share the details as they dribble from my confused head. This place makes me think and feel uncomfortable and different, and believe it or not, that is why I like living overseas. I love the idea of living in a place that is so different than the places most people have lived. I love being able to say, “Oh yeah, when I lived in Doha things were….” Be patient. I think we will be here a while and I will do my best to find out what is really going in here, and I will keep you posted. In the meantime, we are busy finding a car, a nanny, waiting for our shipment, trying to get our cats imported, and all the other millions of things that must be done before you can sit back one night, put up your feet, sigh and say, “I am home again.”
I will write a more comprehensive post regarding my first impressions of Doha and the culture here, in which I will juggle and experiment with the several metaphors I am considering to describe this surreal place: A pearl, a secret, or the obvious one an oasis. I want to use this time to let my friends and family know the practical details of life here in the desert.
Let’s start with the house. We are still waiting for our shipment from Malaysia, so I will hold off on sending pictures until the house is presentable, but in the meantime let me try and paint you a picture with text. The house is one of ten villas on Al Waab Street. Street is an overstatement. We live in the middle of a sand field surrounded by a construction site. We are number 21, there is no reason why that should be important except that 21 is my lucky number. The houses are all brand new. While most people, myself included would automatically think that freshness, when it comes to housing, is good thing, I think it is a good idea to keep in mind that complications can arise when you live in a house that has, up till your move, been vacant. For example, there are no shower curtains in one of the bathrooms, or the shower that has doors leaks water into the bedroom, because the drain has been precariously placed on a small mound in the center of the shower floor instead of being at the end of a gentle slope. I don’t want to sound like I am complaining, so I will stop with this statement- A new house has glitches that need to be tended before it can be properly and comfortably inhabited. Our school has assured us that these slight tribulations will be tended to at the earliest opportunity. We are flexible and okay with that. The kitchen is big and spacious and there is lots of light!
Rather than describe the house in further detail, I will ask you all to be patient and wait for the pictures in a few weeks. But here is a fun little quirk about living in the desert. Out water tank sits outside in our backyard above the ground, thus nearly boiling the water that comes through our pipes, making it nearly impossible to take a shower or find any cold water from the taps during the day. That is all I am going to say for now about the house. It is nice; it is new, it is comfortable; it has potential. Kaia seems to love running around all the open space.
Let’s move on to our school. We have been attending daily orientation meetings and the school itself is one huge constructions site. (See the trend) There must be at least 200 South Asian men (There will be a future post about my thoughts on slave labor and the moral dilemmas one has living so close to exploitation. Doha has a population of 300,000 people with two thirds of them foreigners working construction and in the service industry.) working in the stifling heat to make sure the school will be opened by September fourth. There is no way this will happen. The administration is optimistic, but realistically there are still a few weeks till we can bring in students. I am not sure how they will handle this. We will wait and see. We are flexible and okay with that. (see the second trend) But Oh my god, what a school this will be. They are building an entirely new Middle and High School wing and it is out of control! The design is inspiring and I can honestly say more imaginative and practical that my university. It is all glass with spacious classrooms, a huge indoor pool, track, library, presentation rooms, a 700-person state of the art theater with orchestra pit, fountains, and a baseball field complete with dugouts and a concession stand. Again I will not send pictures now, because it looks like crap, but wait and see what this place will look like in a few months. Do you see the third theme here in Doha? Potential!
The curriculum and the Atlas Rubicon system they use to share the Understanding by Design Units is so far ahead of my last school that I am giddy with anticipation to get started. The admin seems friendly and professional, and the fellow new staff has potential for some friendships. All in all, we are settling in nicely.
I did, however, experience some culture shock the first few days. Doha is a place of contradictions. Where else can you see women dressed in full black Arabyas, with their entire faces covered as their children dance to Pussy Cat Dolls blaring from the radios and giant Plasma TVs at Carrefour at 9pm? The city itself is a barren, hot, dust covered, flat no man’s land, but then you can take a Gondola ride or go ice skating at the mall as you shop at the Gap, drink a Starbucks coffee and get the latest CD at the Virgin Megastore while people watching. There is so much to see, photograph and write about, but, I will write more on the city soon. There will be my trip to the falcon market, camel races, jet skiing in the bay, sailing lessons, 4WD in the sand dunes, camping at the inland sea near Saudi Arabia, trips to Jordan, Oman, Turkey, Iran, and Bahrain, and I am sure a million other things, like the fact that I was dancing with Kaia the other day to the 80’s hit Mickey as a Qatarti family looked on contemplating the birds and fish on my arms. Wahabi Islam I am here!
It is getting late and I must be up early tomorrow for work. I will have Internet hooked up at our house in a few days, so I can share the details as they dribble from my confused head. This place makes me think and feel uncomfortable and different, and believe it or not, that is why I like living overseas. I love the idea of living in a place that is so different than the places most people have lived. I love being able to say, “Oh yeah, when I lived in Doha things were….” Be patient. I think we will be here a while and I will do my best to find out what is really going in here, and I will keep you posted. In the meantime, we are busy finding a car, a nanny, waiting for our shipment, trying to get our cats imported, and all the other millions of things that must be done before you can sit back one night, put up your feet, sigh and say, “I am home again.”
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