Allowing it……

Somewhere, deep within the inner reaches of the Qatar Customs receiving warehouse, there sits a man (it has to be a man) whose sole purpose of employment is to place opaque stickers on foreign imported food stuffs so that the good people of Qatar won’t get offended by seeing Too. Much. Skin.

p.s. The stickers weren’t that hard to take off, maybe they should switch to blurring out the skin with permanent black marker like they do in the ladies fashion magazines if there’s too much cleavage on show in the bra adverts.

Know Your Onions

When you go food shopping at the grocery store in Qatar you choose your fruit and vegetables in the produce section and must have them weighed and priced then and there; this cannot be done at the final check out.  I suppose this is a good system because it saves time at the end of your shopping trip however, it can be the slightest bit annoying getting to the cashier and realising that the price sticker has somehow fallen off your avocado or that that packet of mushrooms, despite having a bar code on them, still need to be weighed.  At my food store of choice, Lulu’s, the produce weighing station is usually (wo)manned by 2-3 Filipino ladies who are courteous, efficient and can tell just by looking where your mango originates from.

One afternoon I was about 3rd or 4th in line waiting to get my items weighed.  There was a man and his friend who were at the front of the queue, in the process of getting their stuff weighed.  The lady who was serving them said something (that I couldn’t hear) and they were quite dismissive.  She said something again, and again they didn’t answer and I thought, ‘this is no time for social chit-chat, just weigh their stuff and get on with it so I can get out of here’.  She finally said something and ripped open the man’s bag of oranges.  From the ripped bag she pulled out 4 cheap, bog standard oranges and 2 expensive oranges, the man and his friend looked sheepishly at each other.  The lady put the cheap and expensive oranges in separate bags, weighed them both and gave them back to the man.  As I watched him and his friend walk off (he left the bag of expensive oranges on the side), I thought, ‘damn, don’t try to pull a fast one over these produce ladies, they know their sh*t’.

Is there an imposter?

When buying fruit at Lulu’s I always choose apples because they travel well in my lunch bag and survive the warmth and humidity of my apartment fruit bowl.  I usually go for the Royal Gala (USA) apples because they are crunchier than the Royal Gala (Spain) apples, look a lot nicer than the Royal Gala (Brazil) apples and taste far better than those really cheap apples from China.  Sometimes I splurge, spend an extra 50 dirhams/kilo and get the Granny Smiths (USA) if they look nice, but lately they haven’t been looking that nice.  Something I never ever do is get the Pink Lady (AUS) apples because they are always the most expensive by a long shot, why are Pink Lady apples always so expensive?  No matter where you are in the world or what time of year it is, the Pink Lady apple is never cheap!

Anyway, I never get the Pink Lady apples although, if I remember correctly, last week the Royal Gala (USA) section was right next to the Pink Lady (AUS) section at Lulu’s.  As I chose my Royal Galas (always take them from the top of the section as there’s less chance of them being bruised and picked over) I may or may not have remembered the incident of the man and his cheap/expensive oranges.  I also may or may not have realised that one of the apples I picked up looked more like a Pink Lady than a Royal Gala…..I’m glad the lovely Filipino lady weighing them didn’t seem to realise either.

An easy mistake to make

Looking for an Outlet

In Qatar, all of the outlets look like this;

 

 

 

 

 

 

You go to Homes R Us, buy a lamp and the plug looks like this;

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then you go to Carrefour, buy an iron and the plug looks like this;

 

 

 

 

 

 

You go to Family Food Centre, find a great coffee maker, buy it and the plug looks like this;

 

 

 

 

 

 

You need a little vacuum so you go to Lulu’s and buy one, and the plug looks like this;

 

 

 

 

 

 

You take a trip to America and find a nice lamp in IKEA but you know that the plug looks like this;

 

 

 

 

 

 

You decide to buy the lamp anyway because at this point, what does it matter what the plug looks like, everything in your apartment is held together with things that look like this;

 

 

 

 

 

 

Every once in a while you buy something with a plug that looks like this;

 

 

 

 

 

 

(although these are mostly things that you’ve gotten in the UK because that’s what all the outlets look like there too).

Gifts of Cotton Gladly Accepted

Table for 2 please! (photo by the fabulous ALM)

This past weekend I celebrated my 2 year Qatar anniversary…and by ‘celebrated’ I mean I latched on to some existing parties.  In honour of living in Doha for 2 years now I spent Thursday night out clubbing (and drinking too much vodka), Friday night at a really great house party (where I drank too much vodka) and Saturday night at the symphony (not drinking any vodka, thank goodness).

I had a look at what I wrote last year and most of it still stands.  My 2 years in Qatar has seen some amazing highs, some pretty horrible lows, and all sorts of craziness in between; but that’s life, right?  Let’s toast to having more highs than lows….although I’ll probably toast with soda water for a while, I’m giving the vodka a rest.

Speaking of which, it was so close and then it was so far away!  QDC, the main alcohol distribution warehouse in Qatar recently opened a second branch at the Pearl (about 5 minutes away from my apartment)…and then it shut the next day due to some infamous Qatari ‘technical difficulties’.  3 weeks later and it’s still shut.  Shops are shutting too, most probably due to the alcohol ban which is still being enforced in the restaurants at the Pearl; my home is turning into a ghost town.

Going Postal

Packing Light; I barely had room for any clothes

I’ve just arrived back in Doha after 2 weeks in London, the 1st week was a planned holiday and the 2nd was an unexpected extension for work.  During the 2nd week I worked out of out sister company’s London office so as not to lose precious vacation days.

Whenever I travel to London, my colleagues and I usually plan it so that if we need any sort of reagent, consumable, chemical or smaller piece of equipment, we order it, have it sent to London and I pick it up and bring it back with me upon my return.  Sending and receiving mail/items in the post in Qatar is a logistical NIGHTMARE and usually the method mentioned above is a much more convenient and economical option.

Qatar has no postal system, or rather a very rudimentary one, comparatively speaking.  Q-Post is based on a PO Box system, if you want to receive mail you must go to the central post office and rent a PO Box from them and that’s it, that’s your address.  When you look up an establishment’s contact details on their website that’s what you get for location, the neighborhood they are in and a PO Box….which doesn’t really help much if you want to pay them a visit.  My work address is the name of the building we are in and a PO Box.  I’ve gotten things sent by family and friends to my work address, cards which left the UK mid September for my early October birthday finally arrived late November.  I get Christmas cards at the end of January.

Sending by courier is no better as everything has to go through the bottleneck of Qatar customs.  We had a DHL shipment come from London with some essential (and quite expensive) items for the machines at work.  After a 4 week delay in Customs we received the package with 2 of the 4 items being damaged beyond use, they’d been blatantly snapped apart by whoever opened the package, then re-wrapped in the bubble wrap they were shipped in and thrown back in the box.

And don’t even get me started about scientific equipment and chemicals, how any one gets anything other than routine experiments done here is beyond me, things are always (at least) twice the cost while the standard at the bottom of each quote tends to be ‘Estimated delivery 8-10 weeks upon receipt of purchase order’.

I have an Aramex account which alleviates this problem a little bit.  I register (and pay) for an account which gives me an address in the US, UK and China.  I use this mostly for internet shopping; if I buy something from say, amazon.co.uk, I have it shipped to my UK Aramex account address where it is tracked and then sent to the central warehouse in Doha.  I get a text when my shipment is ready for collection and I find this is a very good way to get things shipped here because it’s pretty quick and you can track your items.  The downside is it’s more expensive because you have to pay for both the shipping to the US/UK/China address and then again once the package gets to Qatar.

But alas, postal woes are the reason I got to stay in London for a week longer so I guess I shouldn’t complain; we needed some essential items for a last minute project and having me wait in London a few days extra for their arrival so that I could take them back with me was a far better option than trying to get them shipped to Doha.  And as if that extra week wasn’t enough, London was 20 degrees and sunny for nearly the whole fortnight.  I got my haircut from Willie Smarts, saw my dentist, went shopping, had some great meals out, found a new cocktail bar and my husband and I were able to not only AGREE on what colour to paint the living room walls and ceiling, but we actually got to start the job and finish it within the space of about 7 days (the front room looks ace, btw).

Oh, and yes, I did get upgraded to business on my flight back to Qatar :p

Keeping the Peace

I’m going to set a scene for you…

Imagine a road with 2 lanes, one going north and one going south.  You are travelling north and there are no other cars in your lane.  The southbound lane however, is completely gridlocked with traffic.  Every so often, some jerk at the back of the line in the southbound lane thinks he is more important than everyone else and decides that he does not need to wait in the traffic.  He comes out of the southbound lane and starts to travel in the northbound lane (in the opposite direction) in order to get to the front of the line.  This person is now driving straight towards you and they are in the wrong.  What do you do?  Where on earth would an irresponsible act like this take place??

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Whenever I need gas for my car I get it on the way home from work at the station along the Shamal road, which I only have to make a slight detour to get to.  This detour entails driving up a small slip road that exits from a roundabout.  Most afternoons offer a scene like the one I described above, with my lane being empty and a huge line of traffic in the other direction as cars are trying to get into a very busy intersection.  Inevitably, there is always some tw*t who leaves the line and heads into oncoming traffic (my lane) in order to get to the front of the queue.

The last time this happened, about a week ago, I was minding my business, driving along, when I saw in the distance that 2 cars had abandoned the orderly queue and were now headed straight for me.  I pressed my hand on the horn and kept driving.  As we neared each other, I stopped in the middle of my lane and did not offer any leeway; I wasn’t moving an inch for these f*ckers.  The 1st car was a little white Toyota with a Qatari man driving and he moved around me and squeezed his way back into the line.  The second car was a big Land Cruiser and the driver was also male, also Qatari, and also a POLICE OFFICER IN UNIFORM!!!

Are you for real?

I continued to sit in my lane, hand firmly placed on horn, teeth clenched, x-ray death stare to police officer.  The police officer was trying to squeeze back into the lane but no one would let him in (and I certainly wasn’t budging).  He then started to honk his horn at me, AT ME!!  I thought, ‘I’m in the right lane buddy, you’re the one GOING THE WRONG WAY!’  He started gesturing for me to give him some space.  I felt like rolling down my window and shouting, ‘there is a problem here, maybe we should call the police, oh wait, YOU ARE THE POLICE!’

He finally joined the line again and I drove off, fuming, got my gas and went home.

If you can’t get the goddamn police to follow the traffic rules here, how do you expect everyone else to?

Need Not Apply

I would just like to point out that this blog is not a job site and I am not a recruitment agent.  I’d love to help you find a job in Qatar (not really) but I just don’t have the resources.

If you are interested in finding work in Qatar, perhaps do a wed-based search on something like ‘job Qatar (insert your profession here)’.

There are many job sites that are specific for this region and the Middle East in general so try and find some of them.  I can’t offer any more advice than this…..

,,,,,unless you can find me a job in London, then maybe we’ll talk.

Never take ‘No’ for an answer (at least not in Qatar)

Remember that little car accident I had?  Well, I finally made it to the Traffic Department the other evening to pick up the incident report.  After eventually finding the right building, I walked in and (surprise, surprise) it was slightly chaotic and filled with men*.  I bypassed the ticket machine, scanned the counter and made eye contact with one official; it’s always ‘game on’ once you make eye contact.  I went up to this official, told him that I was in an accident and needed to pick up the report.  He didn’t speak English well so passed me onto his (rather large) colleague who promptly scanned me up and down and barked, ‘No, not now, only morning, come back tomorrow morning’.

Me: Only mornings?

Official (dismissive): Yes, only morning, tomorrow morning, closed now.

Me: But I work tomorrow morning, what about Saturday morning?

Official (clearly annoyed): Closed now, only morning, come tomorrow morning!

And then he waved his hand at me and walked away.

I sighed a massive sigh, turned around and thought, ‘Whatever, I can just get out of work for an hour or so tomorrow morning’.  I nearly got to the door before I stopped and said to myself, ‘Alexandria, are you kidding me, what are you doing?!!  Have you learned nothing in the nearly 2 years that you’ve lived here?  Since when do you settle for the first answer that you’ve been given, this is Qatar, turn around right now and GO GET THAT REPORT!’

So I turned around, marched up to the counter, found an official sitting in front of a computer, told him that I was in an accident and needed the report.  He looked annoyed too (like it’s not HIS JOB to provide these reports), asked me for my registration details, punched them into the computer and printed out my accident report.  I took it from him and tucked it away safely into my bag although I had the immense urge to find that other official, wave the report in front of his face and say, ‘So much for tomorrow morning, Fatty, by the way you need to go on a diet’.

But I didn’t, I just went home and poured myself a big glass of wine.

Accident Report

And so here is the report.  From what I’ve learned in Arabic class I can see that I was in an accident with Yousef Ibrahim from India and he was 29 years old, and that’s about it.  If anyone knows what I’m supposed to do next, by all means please let me know, I haven’t the foggiest.

*Qatar seems to have an entire population of males whose only objective is to loiter when it comes to all locations auto-related.  Whether I’m renewing my car’s registration, getting it serviced or going to the Traffic Dept. it’s always just me and a room full of men, which is expected, but what is surprising is the fact that everyone seems to be milling about and not actually doing anything, like these guys wake up and think, ‘Oh, I don’t have much on today, I’ll just go hang out at the registration office/garage/Traffic Dept.’

A Day of Sport

Too bad you don’t live in Qatar because if you did, you’d have the day off today, just like I do!!!!!

The 2nd Tuesday of February has officially been declared ‘Sports Day’, a public holiday, by the Emir.  It’s probably safe to say that because Qatar won (ahem) the 2022 World Cup bid and is now vying for the Olympics, they want to been seen as a country that prioritises health and fitness.  A lot of major companies and establishments based in Qatar have been encouraged to organise outdoor, physical activities on Sports Day and there’s a whole bunch of stuff planned to take place along the Corniche and at Aspire Park, etc.

Well, I’ve been to the gym already this morning so that’s my ‘sports’ portion of the day done.  The rest of the day will be spent drinking coffee, catching up on the ‘Real Housewives’, painting my nails and contemplating getting my car washed while I kill time before Happy Hour begins.

Cheers to Sports Day!

It’s Pronounced ‘Qatar’

Qatar has been making its rounds recently as I’ve heard it mentioned in the news and have seen it in print several times over the past month or so. I write about Qatar for another blog and website (BLATANT SELF PROMOTION!!!) and traffic to both of these sites has increased dramatically; especially on the jobs blog where I have people asking me in the comments section if I can find them work out here (the answer is ‘no’, btw).

There was a recent 60 minutes segment on life in Qatar and a very interesting Radio 4 story relating to Qatar and the World Cup (which is, unfortunately no longer available to listen to). It seems that certain parts of the world are starting to take notice of this tiny country and publicity has been both good and perhaps not so good.

Anyway, I won’t get into the content of these pieces although I will say that the 60 minutes bit was slightly misleading and most statements should have been succeeded with ‘…if you are Qatari’ (ie Richest country in the world, if you are Qatari. Life couldn’t be better, if you are Qatari. Free education, if you are Qatari). And it really did turn a blind eye to the 1 million+ migrants doing pretty much all of the jobs that the Qataris don’t (won’t?) do like driving taxis, cleaning hotel rooms, working in restaurants and pumping petrol into all those shiny new 4x4s everyone drives.

It certainly made no mention of the labourers building this country, working outside in the sweltering heat, living in camps on the outskirts of town and earning a pittance, most of which they send back to family in their home countries.

Alas, that is another post all together but, judging by the comments on the 60 minutes page, I’m not the only one who feels this way.

At the end of the news story there was an entertaining piece about the pronunciation of ‘Qatar’, which is something I find quite interesting. ‘Qatar’ in Arabic begins with the letter ‘ق’, of which there is no equivalent sound in English. It is pronounced like the letter ‘K’ but much more guttural; you have to almost pretend there is a tube in your mouth and click your tongue at the back of your throat. I pronounce it, ‘Kuh-tar’ partly because this is what feels comfortable for me and partly because I don’t want to sound like a twat who’s trying too hard. A lot of people pronounce it ‘Cat-tar’, some say ‘Cut-ter’; I’ll let you decide how you want to say it when you finally come for a visit.

It’s pronounced ‘Qatar’, posted with vodpod