Flashback Tuesday

Courtesy of a few friends posting this on Facebook, H and I had a major flashback to life in Doha last week after reading the article, Fifteen Signs You Have Lived in Qatar Too Long by Phillippa Stewart.  We strongly agree with all of Phillippa's bullet points about life in Doha except for number 10.

In case you don't feel like clicking through to the full article, here's a synopsis of a few of our favorite signs of having lived in Doha too long:

1. "When you navigate the city using 5 star hotels as your landmarks."  Sometimes I used the Ramada instead of Sharq or the Four Seasons but still, close enough.
2. "When you no longer find the names of roundabouts amusing."  H and I definitely gave our address in relation to NBK Mercedes roundabout with a straight face (including the fact that from one direction you had to turn right just before it and drive straight through the construction site until you had almost reached the end of it and then turn right again).  The construction site was intact (and unchanged) for our full two plus years living there.
3. "When this is a totally normal thing to see:" In fairness, sometimes it would be a sheep, particularly around Ramadan.   
4. "When it reaches 20 degrees, you reach for a jumper."  H and I always thought it was ridiculous when the locals broke out their leather coats, scarves and hats in 'winter' just because it was winter.  We still went to the pool in the oh so chilly temperatures of December.  However, once we went to the Caribbean as a vacation from Doha and my first day on the beach there, it was 86 degrees Fahrenheit and I wouldn't take off my sweatshirt and jeans.  Luckily I adapted for day two.
5. "When speed limits and red lights are just gentle suggestions...and when it is no longer shocking for someone to make a left turn from the far right lane while navigating one of the 50 roundabouts you have found yourself on in the space of your five mile journey."  No comment, this is SO true.
6. "When you are excessively nice to shop workers/waiters etc because you feel extreme guilt about how they are treated the rest of the time."  Also very true although I do miss the Ma'am/Sir'ing.
7. "When your reply to being asked for anything is bukra Insha’allah. While the literal translation is “tomorrow, G-d willing” you are fully aware that anyone saying it means “maybe sometime next month, or never..."  I have to admit, I still say it.  It sucks when this is said to you then when asking for something that you absolutely need from someone else at the office.
8. "When you head back to the West, the outfits seem shocking. Not to sound like a prude, but there were shoulders and knees everywhere. Scandalous. Additionally, how do you all not freeze to death?"  My first day in Perth, I put on shorts and a tank top and literally felt like I was walking around naked outside.  It was too weird. 
9. "When rain is a cause for a) excitement and b) everyone forgetting how to drive."  Not to mention, all restaurants stop delivering until the rain stops.  Cue sad face.

For the other six items, head over to the article, Fifteen Signs You Have Lived in Qatar Too Long.  And if you're waking up somewhere other than Doha this morning, be grateful!

Apparently I Woke Up in the Middle East This Morning aka Facebook Fail

After escaping the constant "not yets" in Qatar (i.e. Stranger/Colleague: Do you have children?  Me: No.  Stranger/Colleague: Oh, not yet.  Soon inshallah.), it seems that they have caught up to me in the UK.  Logging into Facebook this morning, my first targeted ad was for IVF in Norway.  Really? 

Dear Facebook,

I am married but I am 28 years old.  It is ok not to have children.

Thanks and regards,
Anonymous Expat

Chapter 1: Basic Necessities [An Infidel's Guide to Living in the Middle East]

The saying that you always want what you can't have holds true in the Middle East.  When alcohol and pork become haraam, attachment to both of the aforementioned items increases exponentially.  Unlike places in the UAE, pork is forbidden in Qatar.  Being an expat in desperate need of pork means you need to do three things:

1. Make friends at military bases; pork is sold there and if you're nice enough, you may get someone to share their monthly ration with you.  My ability to do this resulted in H's favorite birthday present ever.
2.  Go to embassy parties as often as possible; make friends with other nationalities so you can go to their embassy parties too.  Pay attention when the 'secret' room in the back of the parties is opened, where platters of various pork delicacies can be found.  My mouth is watering just thinking about this; kind of strange given that pork is easily accessible to me now in the United Kingdom.
3. Pork sausages and vacuum packed prosciutto travel well.  Fold some into your clothes when returning to Qatar.  Just be sure to take the labels off.  If there's nothing saying it's pork, you can always say it's beef if customs opens your luggage.  

Rumors abound that at certain restaurants, pork is available to those who order the right menu item or use a certain phrase.  I was never successful with this, but keep your eyes and ears open in case this myth is actually real.

Alcohol is available from the single distribution center and hotel bars and restaurants except during Ramadan.  In the month prior to Ramadan, alcohol allowances at the distribution center double so everybody can stock up prior to the holiday.  Always, always get your Ramadan stock at least two months before Ramadan.  The month before Ramadan the alcohol distribution center is a total zoo, with lines stretching down the road to even get into the parking lot.  In addition to queues, items sell out.  There is also the annual rumor that the distribution center won't reopen following Ramadan, creating marginally controlled mayhem.  So be prepared, stock up early, and stock up well.

By following these tips, you can help make your life in the desert just a bit more enjoyable. 

An Infidel’s Guide to Living in the Middle East

Our friends came over for drinks last night; fortunately we tippled so much that I don’t think they minded the overwhelming scents I was exuding from spending the afternoon slathering myself with all of the samples at Lush.  H came home and Anonymous Friend started telling him how I walked home doing jazz hands courtesy of my gold glitter coated hands that came from picking up a glitter encrusted bath bomb to smell. 

“Actually,” she said,  “you have a little bit of the stripper dust left on your face.”

I went to wipe it off and remembered the nice face cream(s) I had sampled at Lush.  So I promptly stuck my face in front of H’s and made him feel how soft my skin was.  Which promoted a Middle East flashback, this time not triggered by the pervasive smell of pork.

 “If you guys ever get transferred to the Middle East, you must promise to do one thing.”

“What?” Anonymous Friends asked.

“Well, you know how Chanel and La Mer and all of the other expensive face products are always behind lock and key at cosmetic counters and you can never sample them?  In Doha, Sephora has all of that stuff out and every time I went to the mall (which was at least once per day since that’s all there was to do in Doha), I used to slather very generous quantities of them all over my face.”

H piped in, “One day I finally asked AE why she didn’t just buy the creams and then I saw that they were a couple hundred dollars each.  So sampling them in store was a much better option and one of the limited perks of living in Qatar.

Anonyomous Friend, “Haha, that’s amazing.  You guys should write an insider’s guide of tips for living in the Middle East.”

H, “Wow, that would be fun….we could call it “An Infidel’s Guide to Living in the Middle East.”

Me, “Done.  High end face cream samples at Sephora will get it’s very own chapter.  Now if only we can think of enough other perks to write a book; perhaps we should aim for a pamphlet instead.”

Middle Eastern Scars

Over the weekend H and I decided that it would be fun to try out our new Mormon family sized curry cooker (much cooler than a slow cooker) and make a giant batch of real southern barbecue pork.  We brought home about 8 pounds of pork shoulder on Saturday afternoon and H trimmed it, made a brine and left it to soak overnight.  We woke up early on Sunday to rinse it, make barbecue sauce, and set the pork to cook for 12 hours in the sauce.   About two hours in, the pork started scenting our house with the most mouth wateringly delicious smell.  We kept going to peek through the glass lid to see how it was progressing.  Fortunately, the cooker came with dire warnings that lifting the lid adds 30 minutes to the cooking time, because four hours in, I really wanted a taste but not badly enough to add another 30 minutes to the cooking time.  Finally, we decided we had to get out of the house or the smell would drive us crazy.  We went hiking, we went grocery shopping and we picked up some delicious Savanna Dry cider.  In the grocery store, we were shocked to find Barbican and Maamoul cookies, familiar items from our days in Doha.  And then we drove home where from outside our front door, I smelled the tantalizing scent of true barbeque.  We walked inside our house where the smell blasted us full on.  I turned to H and started laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just had an oh shit moment.”

“What do you mean?”

“There is such a pervasive smell of pork around our property and for a second I worried that someone would come investigate and catch us with 8 pounds of forbidden deliciousness.”

“Haha, you know Doha now gives driving points to people who violate their ‘morality code.’”

“Yes.  I think it’s safe to say that we would lose our driver’s licenses if we were there.”

“It would be a shame too, that’s my favorite driver’s license, with the Emir on his white stallion.”

“Very true.  But seriously, how good does that barbeque pork smell?” 

I Don't Think I Woke Up Back in the Middle East, Did I?

While there may be some positive things about the United Kingdom that remind me of my time living in the Middle East (i.e. late night grocery shopping, kebab shops, Nando's), today I had my first wtf, are you sure I've escaped Doha moment?  Last weekend, I ordered an iron online from Debenhams.  I know, very exciting; I think I might actually be getting closer to 30.  Anyway, given that my wallet was across the room and H was sitting next to me with his wallet conveniently located in his pocket, I used his credit card to place the order.  The prescribed order confirmation timeline had passed so this morning I called Debenhams to check on the status of the order.

Upon request, I provided the customer service representative with:

• The confirmation number, "Great, thank you miss."
• Delivery destination, "Yes, thank you." 
• E-mail address, "Great."
• Name the order was placed under, "Excuse me, may I please speak with your husband?"

"Umm, pardon?"  

"I need to speak with your husband as the order is in his name."

"I have all the information and I actually placed the order; the confirmation is going to my e-mail address."

"I'm sorry miss but I can't discuss any details of the order with you."

"You realize that w're talking about an iron, right?"

"I'm sorry but the order is in your husband's name."

Ok, last time I use H's credit card instead getting up off my lazy butt to get my purse.  What did this guy think?  That I had hacked someone else's e-mail account, found an outstanding order for an iron, and called to find out when they were planning on delivering it to the address on the order?

Wow, maybe I'm missing something (like the iron came with a free person to iron everything, or better yet, a butler) but given that I had all of the order details, refusing to update me with the order status seemed a little extreme.  Sorry H, but you're going to have to add calling Debenhams to the bottom of your million item long to-do list.

While you're at it, maybe you can also do the following:

• Pre-emptively give me written permission to drive in the United Kingdom.
• Order me a sweatshirt that says, "Don't worry, my husband allows me to go outside without a headscarf/burqa/niqab."
• Write me a permission slip for buying Winter Pimm's, Baltika and Savanna Dry.  It can read something like, yes, these items are within my wife's 'allowance' and she is over 18.
• Hire a butler.  Whoops, sorry, I don't know how that line item slipped in.

Many thanks!

Celebrating One Year in Perth

As we are celebrating our one year anniversary of living in Australia, I feel like I’m detached enough from the crappy things about living in Qatar to assemble a Qatar Top Five list:

• Thai Snack and Massage:  Thai restaurant, massage parlour, Thai karaoke and late night skype calls to the Motherland rolled up into one, what could possibly be bad?  Best Thai food in the world Middle East and while I may have felt slightly sticky after eating there, it was hands down my favorite restaurant in Doha.
• Qatari gas stations: ~$12 to fill my tank and someone to do it for me, need I say more?  Leaving the car and air conditioning running while my tank was getting filled did take some getting used to but I managed.
• Exciting Surprise Glitter Game:  On occasion, after using the restroom at work, I would reach to turn on the faucet to wash my hands and notice that they were covered in glitter.  Where did this glitter come from you might ask?  Drum roll please…glitter toilet paper!  I kid you not.
• Being able to shop (food, clothes, etc.) until 11:00 PM and sit down to dinner after 9:00 PM.  Working full-time does not allow me time to get to the shops in Perth before they close at 5:00 PM.  Our refrigerator has never looked so sparse.

Wait, that was only a top four list.  Ok, instead of struggling for a fifth item to fill the list, I’ll replace number five by sharing a few things that Qatar beats Australia on:

• Living in a rental that was ours to do what we pleased in until we handed back the keys versus our rental in Perth that is inspected every three months for cleanliness.  We must have a totally OCD realtor because our spotless (even by Anonymous Mother’s standards) apartment has gotten the following write-ups:
• Living room looks cluttered.  Well, Anonymous Realtor, you rented us a furnished apartment and we left the furniture exactly where you put it.  Did the addition of two books and a laptop to the coffee table upset the feng shui of the room?  You’re welcome to send an interior designer to rearrange the microsuede and pleather furniture.
• Too many bottles of water on kitchen counters.  Two bottles of water for two people, apologies.
• Picture hanging in office does not hang parallel to floor.  Wow, let me get out my balance.  Oh wait, I don’t have one, we moved here in suitcases.
• Nando’s: Nando’s Australia just isn’t the same as Nando’s in the Middle East.  I can’t help but continue to look for the lentil soup, hummus and chicken strips and spicy rice that are not on the menu here.
• Shawarma with tahini, and better yet garlic tahini.  Australian kebab shops have mayonnaise which firstly is not a comparable substitute for tahini and secondly is as low on my ‘foods I can’t stand list’ as tuna fish.
• Restaurants where one can eat for less than $25 per person.
• People in stores/restaurants who actually acknowledge that it is their job to help you and attempt to do so.
• Stores with nice brands of clothing and accessories.
• Tax free living versus the only thing left to tax me for is the air I’m breathing living.
• Heliports in the city (Doha) versus 2-12 hours away (Perth).

Next year I’ll work on a Perth Top Five list; it’s guaranteed to include convicts and kangaroos.  Can’t wait, can you?

And the Winner Is

In honor of the Emmy Awards which aired live in Perth at 10 o’clock this morning, I’d like to take a minute to recognize some of the weirdest television shows that I have ever seen in my life, all of which are shown on Australian TV.  To be fair, some of these shows originate in the U.K.  Drum roll please…

Border Security- Both the Australian and UK versions are aired here and the show is exactly what the title proclaims it to be: a behind the scenes look at Customs, Immigration and Quarantine departments’ day to day happenings. It films angry people in airports getting screened and arrested for potential drug smuggling, people getting fined for bringing in fruits etc. without declaring it, people getting their tourist visas rejected because it’s feared that they will work illegally and thus they get sent home on the next plane, drugs being uncovered in stuffed animals in mail rooms, illegal immigrants getting busted in housing above ethnic restaurants, and bugs being found in shipping containers (all taken equally seriously).  The show is a serious train wreck, I can’t turn it off once it’s on.  My personal favorite incidents include: the woman caught smuggling drugs in her hair weave, the woman arriving to meet her internet boyfriend after dating him for two weeks online, and the Lebanese couple who tried to bring two suitcases full of fruit, herbs, and spices (some of which was crawling with bugs) into Australia crammed into every square inch of their suitcase, including the insides of their shoes.

Grumpy Old Women- All I can say about this show is WOW, is this for real?  To be fair to Australia, this show comes straight from BBC which summarizes the show as, “a group of middle-aged women grumbling about various aspects of modern life.”  H and I found this while channel surfing and again, train wreck, couldn’t turn it off.  While looking for a clip to attach to this post, I found that this show is a spin-off of Grumpy Old Men AND that the two shows joined forces for Grumpy Old Holidays in which they talk about the irritations connected with holiday making.  Do a YouTube search for this show, please.  You need to see this with your own eyes.  It’s absolutely ridiculous.

RBT- This entire show follows police officers as they pull people over for random breath tests.  I kid you not (although I wish I was joking).  Highlights from the show include the middle aged man who was well over the legal limit the (late) morning after a night of drinking and the guy who when asked if he has ever used illegal drugs said no and when the police officer said that illegal drugs can remain in your system for days after ingestion said well, I might have done some meth yesterday.

To round out my list with a much less trashy show:

Edwardian Supersize Me- This comes straight from the BBC (although perhaps from a few years ago) and has a British comic and food critic ‘going Edwardian’ for the week.  They eat typical Edwardian meals, dress in typical Edwardian dress, and participate in typical Edwardian activities.  At the end of the week, the food critic has gained a significant amount of weight and has done some damage to his cholesterol etc.  Who would have guessed when breakfast included an array of sardines, curried eggs, and cutlets and lunch and dinner had over six courses each (about half meat, half fish and then dessert).  This show was actually incredibly entertaining and I’m going to have to look for the Victorian, Elizabethan, and Roman episodes.

Honestly, I had to stop myself because this list could have continued (Police Dogs, anybody?).  While Australian TV may be bizarre, it sure beats the TV show spread in the Middle East: MTV Arabia (airing shows from well over five years ago on repeat multiple times a day, everyday of the week), French news, Italian news, Arabic news, and U.S. sitcoms from 5-10 years ago.  Good thing I like to multitask while watching TV, otherwise I could be at serious risk of killing brain cells.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have some trashy TV to watch (and a huge stack of books to read simultaneously).

Morning Tea... I'm Still Hungry

Call me crazy, but even after two years of being pork deprived in the Middle East, I still didn't find the latest morning tea offering to be at all appealing...bacon and cheese muffins...

Perhaps it was the fact that they spent two days unrefrigerated in the kitchen at work before they made it to morning tea.  Or maybe I just can't call myself an Australian food connoisseur.

Gross Me Out

Last night, I was putting my dishes from dinner in the dishwasher when a flat brown inch-long bug came crawling over the edge of it.  I screamed and grabbed the closest shoe I could find (H’s flipflop, sorry H) and while continuing to scream, began swatting at it trying to crush it to death.  It quickly scuttled up the side of the dishwasher and took refuge in a crack between the top of the dishwasher and bottom of the kitchen counter.  I continued to try to stab at it but the flipflop just wasn’t small enough to get into the crack to do any real damage.  At that point my phone rang,

H: “Hi AE, how are you? (insert my scream)  Are you ok?  What’s wrong????”

Me: “H, there is a HUGE bug hiding above our dishwasher and I can’t get it out to kill it and it’s HUGE!  I can’t use bug spray on it because it’s our kitchen counter and I don’t want to poison us but, wait, I know, I’ll spray it with disinfectant.”

H (laughing): “AE, you can’t kill a bug with disinfectant.”

Me: “But I can try!!!”  

At which point I began squirting away at the crack, hoping to drown/poison the bug.  And let me just say, this morning when I went to check on the crevice, I saw the bug’s little antennae poking out of the crack and smashed just how I left them.  Hopefully it’s dead!

I am totally grossed out.  I got to work today and told one of my co-workers about my night and she kindly explained to me that the bug I saw last night was a cockroach.  She confirmed this by showing me a rather graphic Google image, DISGUSTING!  I e-mailed the realtor to get an exterminator in ASAP and she said what everybody at work has said: that they’re really common here, especially this time of year (flashback to our ant infested hotel room when we arrived in March?!).  And the realtor said it’s not the owner’s responsibility and that I should go buy some traps which I left work to purchase immediately.  

Of course the first kind of exterminating traps/spray I found in the grocery store was a rack full of rodent poison with quite realistic images on the boxes.  Being petrified of rodents, I stood there shuddering attempting to look through the boxes for bug poison.  Finally I located a rack of bug sprays, traps, gels, etc. and let’s just say if the quantity and depth of selection is any indicator, bug invasions are truly a problem in Western Australia.  As I examined the products to see which I wanted, I may have started to feel bugs crawling over me.  I am not cut out for do-it-yourself-exterminating!  

This evening, when I left work, I told my intern that if I don’t show up at work tomorrow, it’s because I accidentally poisoned myself with my DIY exterminating and that she should come to my apartment to find me.  We both had a good laugh about that but not good enough for her to volunteer her assistance, despite her skills from exterminating her own bug problems at home.

Let’s just say my apartment is now trapped and sprayed and I’m on high alert for any insect movement.  And now I have something to add to my very short list of things I miss about life in the Middle East: the wonderful compound maintenance men who sprayed the perimeter of my house multiple times a week (without being asked) resulting in ZERO unwanted insect/rodent/other animal life guests.  For you, I am forever grateful and wishing you were here to do the same!