Rah, rah Doh-ha ha

Applying for my business visa at the San Francisco consulate, not realising that the 'long way' to Shanghai was going to be THIS long












Update: waited until half six in the evening but got up the courage to face the heat and go outside; at this point it was a mere 45 degrees (111F), which was down from 49 (120F). Decked out in clothing completely unsuited to the climate, I made my way along Musheireb for a few blocks and then turned around, a journey that took all of half an hour but left me glistening and begging the front desk for a bottle of water.

Doha is funny—it’s much like other Islamic cities in its architectural motifs, the wares sold in it shops, and its bright, gaudy signs, but without that charming sense of timelessness and organic decay. It’s weirdly clean, with paved streets and well-maintained roundabouts, and instead of that tawny golden colour, the buildings are best described as off-white (or kind of the colour of a white oxford shirt that needs to be thrown in the wash because it’s been worn in hot weather a few too many times). The mosques, with their clean lines, are clearly quite new—and look almost sterile in their spotlessness. They actually look a bit like play-mosques, as though they were made out of Play-Doh (plasticine) for a child.

One thing you won’t see on the streets of Doha? Women. I saw exactly three on my foray—two that looked to be friends on a shopping trip, decked out in elaborately decorated burqas, and one, holding her husband’s hand, covered in black from head to toe save for her eyes. Even though it had killed me to do it, I had put on my blazer over my shirtsleeves and was immensely glad I did; I don’t care to imagine the commotion a blonde-haired, blue-eyed and bare-armed foreign girl would have caused. I also wore my sunglasses despite it being dusky outside, as it made it much easier to avoid making eye contact with Doha’s male population—which is interpreted as sexual forwardness. Finally, I forced myself to sort of grimace the whole time, as a smile also happens to be interpreted as sexual forwardness (much like in Eastern Europe, where I hear that it’s also seen to be a sign of psychosis…only the Slavs would be of the mindset that, if you appear happy, you must be going crazy). Needless to say, I didn’t approach any strangers and ask them to take a picture of grinning and waving in front of a minaret.

I arrived back covered in a thin film of sweat and feeling as though I had been slow-cooked, and so as not to stink up the plane tonight, jumped into the shower. Now, in most of the world, hot running water is considered a luxury, and you only get a certain amount before it runs out. Here, in order to get some cold water on your hair or skin, you have to catch it right as soon as you turn on the shower or tap, because after about seven seconds, everything that comes out could cook a chicken. The water temperature available to you now ranges from hot to scalding. When you envision water tanks sitting out in the 49 degree sun, it makes sense…kind of.

When I got back I also tried to take a look at qatarsucks.com (just for kicks and giggles), on which someone has posted a list called ‘Ten Things I Hate About Qatar’. It seems that the government has blocked access to qatarsucks.com, which I found out thanks to this hilarious/frightening notice. I don’t enjoy my internet shenanigans being censored and I don’t think that there’s anything particularly dangerous on qatarsucks.com, but I can understand why the government *ahem* resents the site, considering as it’s devoted to hating the nation. It’s also nothing compared to the Great Firewall of China, which should be fun to contend with for the next few months. Hopefully the flat uses proxies or VPN or onion routing (I use these words like I know what they mean, but in reality all I know is that they let you access facebook).






Is this meant to be geared towards children or something???










Oh, and it’s ‘not recommended’ to drink out of the tap. Although I think Qatar is so unsuitable to life forms as to be inhospitable to even parasites, I’m not taking any chances.