A Warning

Mind the Step

The new “SIGNS” put up on the external doors of my apartment building!!!

It was bound to happen one day

tThis week I returned to Qatar after my holidays and 2 weeks spent in the USA where I pretty much ate my weight in Dunkin’ Donuts chocolate munchkins.  On my second day back, the inevitable happened; I had a car accident….or rather, another driver drove into my car.  The situation involved slow moving traffic, a driver who admitted the entire thing was his fault (which it was) and damage to my car which looks like a really big scratch.  I always thought that it was just a matter of ‘when’ and not ‘if’ I had a car accident and if this is the worst road incident that I’ll ever be involved in here, then I’ll take it.

This whole fiasco is nothing but a major hassle as I now have to go to the Traffic Department, pick up the incident report (no garage in Qatar will do any sort of body work unless there is a police report to accompany it), drop my car off at the garage and be without transportation for a few days until it is fixed.  And don’t worry, if there’s any sort of major debacle that happens along the way (and this is Qatar after all so there very well may be!!!), I’ll be sure to tell you all about it.

But how’s this for a major debacle….

Since the beginning of December, all restaurants at the Pearl have had their liquor licenses revoked.  This means no glass of wine with your risotto at Carluccio’s, no happy hour at Pampano, no sparkling wine with brunch at Tse Yang and definitely no more Sundowner Sessions at Mango Tree.  There was speculation that the sale of alcohol was simply suspended due to the Arab Games, but these games have now been and gone and still no questions have been answered.

Now, I am quite partial to my drink and I do love to indulge here and there but if others don’t agree with the sale and consumption of alcohol, then that’s fine with me.  The problem that I have in this instance is the complete lack of information; during a meal out on Christmas Eve, one of my dining companions asked our server about this ban and they replied that they had no idea what was going, nor did their managers.  No one really knows who has banned the sale of alcohol, but they know that their liquor licenses have been revoked.  If whoever is responsible is so against the sale of alcohol at the Pearl, then why give licenses in the first place?  Plus, is this a ban or simply a suspension?  If it’s a ban, then give a reason and if it’s a suspension, then give an end date to it.

Many restaurants at the Pearl have reported at least a 50% drop in patronage and I really do feel for them as this news came at a time when many people would have booked festive Christmas lunches and dinners.

Kind of makes you sigh and scratch your head, doesn’t it?  It actually reminds me of a situation that’s just arisen at work; after nearly 3 years of our cleaners washing, drying and putting away our dishes in the kitchen, their supervisor has told us that they are no longer allowed to do this because of ‘hygiene reasons’ and that now we’ll have do this ourselves.  Ok, so the cleaners are still able to mop the floors in the lab and clean the chemical cabinets but they can’t wash our coffee mugs?

Is this for real?  Yes.  Where on earth would something like this happen?  Qatar.

When it rains is pours

The sink in my bathroom has been leaking for the past couple of weeks, nothing major, just some drips here and there, I put a container under the pipes to catch most of the water and promised myself that I’d tell maintenance about it soon.  I joked to myself, ‘one day I’m going to come home from work and there’s going to be a huge puddle of water on my bathroom floor, how funny, ahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!’

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That day was today.

 

Abu Dhabi, Abayas and Award Winning Meals

Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque, Abu Dhabi, UAE

I went to Abu Dhabi with some friends the other weekend and we had a really great time.  Oftentimes it’s tricky going somewhere with new travel companions because you never know what the dynamic of the group will be but, I must say, the four of us got on brilliantly.

I was expecting Abu Dhabi to simply be a bigger version of Doha with more buildings and shops, a slightly larger choice of restaurants and bars and a more relaxed view on ladies being able to show their shoulders in public.  What I got instead was a vibrant and cosmopolitan city which completely exceeded nearly every single expectation that I had.  It’s difficult to explain the difference between the two cities if you haven’t been to both because some are quite specific to what you’d only experience if you lived in one or the other but, that’s not going to stop me from trying to tell you about it anyway!

I felt the difference nearly the second I stepped foot out of the airport (an orderly taxi rank, you mean I’m not going to have to fight my way to get a cab?), and during the drive on the way to the hotel.  Yes, Doha has trees and grass too but it almost seems out of place here, the green spaces of Abu Dhabi felt like they’d been there for ages.  And Abu Dhabi has highways, proper, wide, interconnecting roads, leading to smaller roads with traffic lights, not roundabouts.  These smaller roads also have sidewalks and pedestrian crossings and shops along them, like real shops that you’d actually want to go in!  There is a big bus station and numerous bus stops (yes, as in a public transportation system), and cabs everywhere, not just in one queue outside of the mall.

There is a different ‘feel’ to Abu Dhabi as well, a different kind of atmosphere and attitude among the people who live there.  Whereas Doha has a very transient, migrant population, Abu Dhabi seems like a place where people go to settle and build a life.  For the most part, things in Doha are very black and white; you’re either in the upper levels of society or the bottom levels.  In Abu Dhabi, there is much more middle ground, social lines interchange more, and even overlap; at breakfast one morning, we were served by a lovely South African guy who spoke perfect English, he understood us and we understood him.  And get this, my friend ordered scrambled egg whites, ie something NOT ON THE MENU and we were able to get it no problem!  In Doha, you are served by either Filipinos or men from Kerala, sometimes they will understand you and sometimes you will even get what you asked for on the first try…but don’t even think about ordering off menu or asking for a substitution, it’s just not possible.

Although both modern Qatar and the UAE are about the same age, Abu Dhabi is more spread out and has developed smaller neighborhoods and communities; Doha has one big pocket of high rises (West Bay) and then low level, nearly isolated compounds everywhere else.  Abu Dhabi also has a foothold in that elusive industry called ‘tourism’ with various attractions such as Yas Island, a beautiful Corniche, public beaches, and a lot more than just 5 star hotel brunches to keep the expat community occupied.  The highlight of our trip was definitely a visit to the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque, one of the only places in the city where women are required to cover up with Abayas that are provided upon entrance.  We didn’t mind though, we had a blast and the photos opportunities were fabulous.

Abayas

They’ve been lying to me this whole time…

Hey, I’m back.

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I always used to think that the grass was greener in the desert, and then I figured out why…..

Created?

Lush?

 

 

It’s fake!!!

Plastic

 

I’m sure there’s a metaphor in there somewhere which perfectly explains my time in Qatar but I’ll let you come to your own conclusions.

 

 

Expats Gone Wild

Ministry of Sound came to town last Thursday night and set up camp on the beach at the Intercontinental Hotel.

It was a good night, beach party-lite if you will.  I don’t know, I still have a fairly hard time taking the nightlife of Doha seriously, I think I was a bit spoilt for choice with all those years I spent dancing in darkened railway arches in either the far north or far south of London.  But don’t get me wrong, I had a lot of fun and enjoyed myself, it was a nice change to my usual Thursday night routine (dancing crazy in my apartment with gin & tonic v. dancing crazy outside with gin & tonic).

You could tell people were a bit nervous at first, like sussing the crowd out to see what this whole thing was about.  As one friend remarked, it was like the beginning of a school dance with no one wanting to make the first move (although in this case I just think it was too early and people hadn’t drunk enough Coronas).  Obviously someone had let all the expats out to play but none of them really knew what to do because they don’t get to practice their social skills much.

No, I’m being dramatic, but you get the point.  The night carried on, the music was pretty good and the gin kicked in.  For one slight moment I thought I could have been in Vauxhall; bangin’ choons, shirtless men, heat, sweat…oh, the sweat!

Doha at the end of September is HOT and often very HUMID.  Thus, dance parties on a beach in Doha in September are SWEATY.

It took about 10 minutes outside before I had to put my hair up, and the outfit that I had so carefully chosen to make my Doha Ministry of Sound debut was soaking wet and stuck to every part of my body by the time we left.  At least everyone present was in the same boat, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house, so to speak.

Sweat, I mean Step-n-Repeat

A Table for Four

Tasty Tapas

I’m back from my holidays and ready to go!!  Although I am not yet used to the increased traffic on the roads, the full 30 minutes it takes me to drive the 5 miles or so to work and my Ramadan working hours (8:30am-1:30pm) being replaced with the normal full work day (my life is so tough), things in Doha are not too bad.  The heat has also mellowed a bit and evenings are getting comfortable.

And what better way to ease back into Doha life than with cocktails and a lovely, social dinner out with some even lovelier friends.  Last night saw some pre dinner Cosmopolitans at my place and then delicious tapas at The Cellar in the Oryx Rotana Hotel.  I’ve written about the restaurant scene in Doha before and how it really does leave much to be desired but my dates and I were more than impressed with what The Cellar had to offer last night.  Not only were the small plates tasty, well-made and filling (the fishcakes and hammour come to mind) but all of the food arrived quickly, the service was efficient and unobtrusive, and the entire experience was very good value for money.  The Cellar even allows you to taste all of the ‘wines by the glass’ on the menu before you make your decision.

I’ve also heard from very reliable sources that the Jazz Club at the Oryx is very good, and I am itching to try their Friday brunch as rumor has it unlimited cocktails are on the menu; not bad for an airport hotel, not bad at all.

Mass Exodus

The kind of traffic I see these days

I’ve been away on holiday, Jordan to be precise, and it was fabulous.  I’m not usually one for self-promotion (with my own personal blog? me?), but you can feast your eyes on our amazing video here.  And photos from the trip can be seen by either clicking the links to the right or checking out my flickr collection.

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Summer in Qatar is in full swing and temperatures now routinely creep into the mid 40s (105-115 F) during the day, relegating most people indoors; I really never go outside for extended periods now unless it’s to sit by the pool.  Qatar is a funny place over the summer, a shell of its former self, as most people save up all of their holiday time, take it in one big chunk, and forgo the oppressive experience that is the desert during the hottest time of the year.  All of the schools in the country are now shut for the summer, most wealthy Qataris have closed shop and headed to more temperate climes, and the majority of everyone else has taken advantage of their above mentioned 25+ vacation days.  Doha is empty, the roads are traffic free (I can make it to work, door to door, in about 15 minutes flat), there are plenty of parking spaces at the mall on a Saturday afternoon, and poolside attendance at my apartment complex is waning.  To be honest, I kind of like Qatar during the summer.  I’d like it a whole lot more if it wasn’t so damn hot but if it wasn’t so damn hot then it wouldn’t be so damn empty.

The bad news is however that a lot of the people I know (in my teeny tiny circle of friends) have also left for the summer.

Fear not though, to cheer myself up I’ve got a little trick up my sleeve in the form of Ramadan, which begins tomorrow.  To refresh your memory, Ramadan is the 9th and holiest month in the Islamic calendar when Muslims around the world refrain from eating, drinking, smoking (and other naughty pleasures) from sunrise to sunset.  In Qatar, most businesses open for a short time in the morning but then shut until sunset and open until well past midnight.  Certainly all restaurants remain closed until sunset and non Muslims are asked to refrain from eating or drinking in public during the hours of fasting.  Oh, and there is not a drop of alcohol to be sold or served in the whole of the country for the entire month.  How can this cheer me up you ask?  Well, with Ramadan comes the Ramadan working hours that my employer will be following; 8:30am to 1:30pm, or pretty much a half day.

So, I’ve made the requisite liquor run and my fridge is fully stocked; I’m just waiting for that 5 hour work day to kick in.  I’ll probably spend a fair amount of time sunbathing but, due to the heat I will probably spend a fair amount of time in my apartment too, maybe brushing up on my language skills with some Arabic CDs, but more likely watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey and drinking rose.

Ramadan Kareem.

The Dreaded ‘C’ Word

Why did this have to happen?

It was all going so well….

In the very early hours of Friday morning, my worst Qatar nightmare became a reality.  The weekend had started off on such a high note, it was Mrs. Derrig’s birthday and I spent Thursday evening in lovely company, enjoying conversation, Teppenyaki, bubbly, wine and a Seabreeze cocktail…and some more wine…and a bottle of Budwiser…and a (very strong) gin & tonic…and a pineapple Bacardi Breezer (I am not ashamed).  It was a wonderful night out and, by the time I left my companions and got a taxi headed home, it was well past 2am.  I made it back to the Pearl ok, let myself into my apartment and started to get ready for bed.  I would say that I was home for a good 10 minutes before I notice ‘It’.  There it was, on the bare tile floor in front of my closet at the entrance to the bathroom, as cold as the light of day; a cockroach.  Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, a motherf*cking cockroach in my motherf*cking apartment.  No, no, no, no, and NO!  I moved into the Pearl, into a BRAND NEW apartment in a BRAND NEW development to avoid this kind of bullsh*t.  If there is one type of vermin that I absolutely cannot stand, it’s cockroaches; ants, flies, maybe even mice I can deal with but roaches, ugh, they make my skin crawl.  I blinked, a lot, like more than I needed to and stared at it for probably 30 seconds.  ‘Are you kidding me?’ I asked myself, out loud.  Was I a lot more drunk than I thought I was?  Actually, I think I’m glad that I was so far from sober, I think it made me much more placid.  The cockroach was big, like as long as my index finger (not including antennae, yuck) and it was on its side and not really moving so I quickly deduced that it was dead.  But where had it come from?  I hypothesized that it had come from my closet, yes, the roach had been living in my closet and decide that he’d had enough so swung the doors opened and jumped out onto the tiles.  Then I more rationally thought that it had probably fallen, or jumped, from the vent in the ceiling above the closet.  I contemplated calling the concierge, demanding that someone come up and take care of this RIGHT AWAY!  That was quite silly though, it was nearly 3am now and, thanks to my inebriated state, or possibly because of it, I did the most sensible thing I could think of; I got an opaque plastic container from the kitchen, placed it over the cockroach, had a shower, brushed my teeth and went to bed.

Roach Motel

After a solid sleep, I awoke with a slightly sore head (which was to be expected) and wondered if that whole roach thing had really happened.  I gingerly crept around the corner from my bedroom to the bathroom and peeked at the floor.  There it was, right where I’d left it, the white plastic container with the, possibly dead cockroach underneath it.  For the Love of God, why am I such a Wuss?!  I was in such a fragile state on Friday that I couldn’t fathom taking care of (ie disposing of) the little guy and just left him there, under the container, tiptoeing around it every time I needed to get the bathroom.  By this morning though (Saturday) I knew I needed to do something.  As if I was performing surgery, I prepared my work station; a thin piece of cardboard cereal box for sliding under the plastic container, an empty plastic bag for disposal, wide open and ready to go, and a heavy shoe, just in case I had no other choice but to smash the poor bastard.  I also had my apartment key in my pocket so that I could make a very swift exit to the rubbish chute down the hall.  I slid the cardboard under the plastic container, hands shaking just a little bit, and I could see a tiny tip of one antenna peek out from under the plastic container, he was still there, gross.  I left the container and cardboard sitting on the floor for a while so that I could mentally prepare for the more intense, crucial phase of getting the roach into the plastic bag and out of my apartment.  If the plastic container that I’d placed over the vermin hadn’t been the bowl to my kitchen scales, then I think I would have just dumped the entire thing but I wanted to keep the container; as a matter of principle I didn’t want the cockroach take anything away from me.  I needed to get the container and cardboard into the plastic bag, and then get the container out of the bag but I wanted to try and do so without having to see the insect again, I didn’t want to know how big it really was.  I got the container and cardboard into the bag, heart racing, and now all I had to do was lift out the container, hope that La Cucaracha wouldn’t go scurrying, close the bag and run to the rubbish chute.  This is a small feat for anyone with an ounce of courage but we are talking about me here, and, if you haven’t figured it out already, I am pathetic.  Getting the angle right so that I wouldn’t have to see in the bag, I lifted out the plastic container, saw that it was empty and squeezed the bag shut with my other hand; I have never held a bag closed so tightly in my entire life, Jeezus! I’m such a f*cking big girl’s blouse sometimes it kills me!  I swiftly proceeded to the garbage chute and threw the bag down, hoping that was the last I’d see of my little friend.

So, cockroaches are solitary insects, correct?  I mean, there aren’t 800 of this guy’s friends waiting in the vents above my apartment, getting ready to jump down onto my tile floor and have a party, right?  Please, even if it’s a lie, just tell me that this was a rogue roach and that I most likely, no, most certainly will not see anymore.  Thank you cockroach, thank you for ruining my calm and peaceful home life!  Now every time I hear a slight noise or grumble from my ceiling vents, I will forever be petrified that another apocalypse-surviving insect will be getting ready to spring out onto my apartment floor searching for his friend or worse still, wanting to be my friend.

The white plastic container for my kitchen scales is now filled with bleach, soaking in my sink, and I’m thinking about the best possible method to cover every single ceiling vent in my apartment, just in case.

Culinary Delights

Q: What is the local food like in Qatar?

A: Lebanese.

Qatar is complete mishmash when it comes to food, you can pretty much find anything you’re looking for (good and bad), and a lot of odd combinations that you never even knew existed.

Sweet and sour tacos?

A lot of what you come across is what I would classify as ‘Middle Eastern’ or ‘Arabic’ but my quest to find traditional Qatari food has hit a dead end.

Unless you’re after a specific cuisine, most restaurants and buffets will have the standard fare of hoummus, tabbouleh, moutabel, flat bread, ful, labneh and various salads and spices not really indicative of one particular country.  All of these foods are fine and yes, Qatar is in the Middle East, but I find it difficult to believe that the nomadic Bedouins of the Qatari desert were able to make eggplant dip and parsley salad.  Even a dish that most people consider to be very Qatari (mutton or lamb with rice) I have a problem with because, where can you grow anything in this country, let alone rice which needs watery paddy fields to flourish?  The meat I’m ok with and possibly some of the cheese/yogurt mentioned above because I can envision nomadic desert tribes grazing goats on the small areas of desert plants you find here.  Fish and seafood I can understand too, as Qatar relied heavily on the waters that surrounded it before it became modernised, but that’s about it.  Even the flat bread that is served with everything, where would you get the wheat to make it with?  Were the wheat, rice, chickpeas, herbs and spices all acquired by trade years and years ago?  Even now, nearly everything in this country is imported, I shudder to think what would happen if Qatar somehow became isolated and no planes were allowed to land or ships allowed to dock.

Manakeesh ready for the oven

One of my favourite culinary discoveries so far has got to be manakeesh; not specifically Qatari, but very very delicious.  Think of a small pizza round topped with a delicious cheese that has the consistency of mozzarella (but with much more flavour) baked in a very hot oven until the cheese gets all melted and the dough reaches that perfect golden balance of just a few dark spots but still nice and soft and chewy.  Then you fold the manakeesh in half and slice it into triangles and enjoy it while it’s still warm.  Yum!  There are plenty of other fillings you can have like za’atar (a blend of herbs, olive oil and sesame seeds), meat, egg and labneh, but my favourite so far has got to be cheese.  Personally, I think manakeesh is one of those foods (like donuts and baguettes) that’s not worth making at home (unless you have a proper pizza oven) and is a special treat that should be left to the professional bakers….which is probably for the best because eating melted cheese on freshly baked bread can’t be good for my waistline.

Baking manakeesh