A Selection of Morrocan Pastries, or Day 33 in Doha

A spectacularly unproductive evening followed what set out to be a good day to work on my Computer Networks project.

Lunch is a necessity, so I don't feel guilty for the hour there. Abdalla and I went to an Arabic restaurant, where I had rice and "meat." Here, there is chicken and there is meat. Meat translates into lamb or beef, because of the halal regulations banning pork.

Also, it was a Friday afternoon, so all of the families that just went to prayer were at the restaurant we were originally going to go to (where you sit and eat on the floor... way cool). The crowds reminded me of going out to brunch after church with my grandparents every Sunday when I was staying with them in D.C. Except, you know, Muslim.

However, the distractions began at dinnertime.

The Campus Life of Qatar Foundation decided that they would do their part for Haiti, so I attended a fundraiser barbecue. The main food was similar: hotdogs and hamburgers. What wasn't the same was the sides: more pita, less buns, crepes, juice, chocolate pebbles. I got to run into all sorts of friends from the dorms: Fatima and Maria, Sabrina and Utsav, Michael and Zaid.

However, Daedri and I had to run. She had convinced to go meet some of her friends downtown. We got a taxi from Education City to the souq in what was supposed to be a short tea break with these "pilots-in-training" who are attending a pilots' school nearby.

None of us were that hungry, so Daedri and I decided to be "adventurous" and try the "Selection of Moroccan Pastries." If you can't tell from the picture... it was the biggest waste of 20 riyals I've spent in this country. They were cookies (biscuits) from packages from a supermarket! The cheesecake was much better, so Hamed and Rushdy shared. They also wanted to share their smokes, but we both passed on that.

So now, I'm feeling a bit stressed, since there is only one day left in the weekend, and it is a bit full already. This week is going to be tough! Get ready for some short blog posts, people.

White Tigers, or Day 19 in Doha

It is Friday, the Muslim day of prayer, so I decided to be my curious self and go to the Fanar, the Islamic Cultural Center right by the souq. It is notable for its size, but also for the spiral minaret (tower), one of only two in the world.

We got there while it was open, but the "guy who answers questions" wasn't there yet. So I looked at the exhibits explaining Islam, the Prophets and Messengers, the Five Covenants, and so on. I got the guts to go to the prayer room (or the actual mosque part) upstairs.

I'm glad I've been "trained" on mosque-going, since, unlike all the tourist-friendly mosques in Istanbul, this one had no warning signs in five different languages telling you to take off your shoes and cover your head.

The prayer room area was, like in Istanbul, a segregated area about the men's area. However, in Istanbul, since the mosques were one large room with the balcony overlooking it, I could go anywhere (including the main/men's section). Here, because it was much more of a functioning mosque, I went in the women's entrance and walked into the carpeted room.

It was much less ornate, more like a peaceful, library-esque feeling, with a few bookshelves along the wall, the typical striped carpet (to help them face Mecca), and a patterned screen that allowed us to look down to the men's section and the front of the room. I think that mosques are some of the most welcoming places of faith I've been in; churches and cathedrals would be next, then synagogues would probably be after that. I've never felt uncomfortable in any of them (which is a testament to all religions that I've experienced, thankfully) but there is something about taking off your shoes to walk on the ground that gives an extra fullness to the experience. Who is going to argue and fight when they are barefoot?

My cultural exchange continued when I met my partner for my Islamic Feminism class. He's an Egyptian male, the only other non-Qatari in the class and the only male. We finished our summary quickly, then turned to the more interesting subject, which was what our feminist beliefs were. He told me what he doesn't say in class, and, while I didn't necessarily agree with what he said, he clearly had thought about what was important in life for him and how a wife and mother would fit in to help make that happen.

And, of course, my final cultural exchange of the night was with other American students. Texas is like a foreign country, right? Though us exchange students from the main campuses are all westernized, people hold passports from Singapore to El Salvador. We ate at a Moroccan restaurant in the souq, where I had my first taste of camel! It was kofta, which I will say is a sausage-like form of it. It could have been better seasoned, but now I have camel leftovers in my fridge.

And, like many, many nights out here, it ended with a short clown car ride to Bandar, and some tea. One of the girls mentioned that her friend saw a pet cheetah stick its head out a car window like a dog. This led to all of us brainstorming what our best exotic pet would be. The three winners? Tito, the macaroni penguin; Pistachio, a chimp trained to fetch beer; and a white tiger. Or any white big cat. Because who would mess with a guy with an albino leopard chilling on his couch?

While we were there, a wedding party passed through, and, while some of the others found the honked and chanting annoying, I am always excited to see something new and different.