This Is It, or Day 125 in Doha

This is it. My final day in Doha. And today is going to be unusual, because this first post is going to be about leaving and goodbyes and things, where as today's second post is going to be telling you about the May Trip (as it has come to be called)!

People keep asking me if I'll come back to Doha. The world is pretty big, and, though I pretend, I haven't seen that much of it. If I do come back, I'd love to come back this time next year for graduations... wouldn't that be great, CMU? (hint hint, nudge nudge)

But looking beyond next year, what I would want to come back to are the people, and, like most university students and staff and faculty, the don't stay in one place very long! This is a very dynamic community, and you can never come back to the same one you left. I'm sure I'll experience that when I'm back in Pittsburgh too.

(Was it Pocahontas that said you can never step in the same river twice?)

So what did I do on my final day?

I stayed pretty secluded to start with, getting this and that finished up and packed. I found another bag of things to have a friend take back to Pittsburgh for me, as well as food and things to give away to people sticking around a little longer than I am.

In some ways, packing isn't hard: basically everything has to go in. I did manage to make another little goodie bag for myself that Rishav will deliver to Pittsburgh for me.

But I'm was detached from it.

My semester ended ending this evening.

First was a "dinner" at Maya's, the chocolate restaurant, with a few of the CS people. Samreen, ever the chocolate lover, was present, as well as Rishav, and Nasreem and Amal, two other CMU students. We ate a lot, we laugh a lot, and it was a heart-warming goodbye with a card and some good hugs and promises to see each other in the future.

Afterward, it was another few, quick goodbyes to Zaid and others, then an hour of printing and finalizing plans for the "Epic May Trip." Then, Abdalla and I got news of a gathering over at Cornell with another of my favorite groups of people.

Sabrina convinced a group of Cornellians (and us) to come with her to Star of India. There was a lot of laughs (especially for the guys... don't know what it is about those kind of jokes that just set them off) and then, it was time again to say goodbye. Sabrina was making me teary-eyed; it is very hard saying goodbye to people that I may never see in person again.

And here I say, God bless the Internet.

After we got back, Abdalla scurried away to finish his errands, and I cleaned out the rest of my stuff from my apartment. Food went to Tina, trash went to the dumpster (I'm such a good roommate), and extra toiletries went to the social room with "Free" on them. Somehow, my apartment, which still has at least two girls still actively living there, didn't look that much emptier.

It was in the taxi, leaving Education City for the airport, that I realized that this was it. Having Abdalla along is delaying the shock of leaving all these people, but my last Doha skyline fading into the distance... that was real.

I've promised a few people some reflective blogposts, but this isn't one of them. The airport in Dubai is not quite a reflective place. Amman in a few hours!

Not Particularly Interesting (For You), or Day 113 in Doha

It's definitely not like I didn't do anything today. I had a final test for Networks (that class is officially over!) I had a final presentation for Design for Service (look here to see our beautifully designed slides). I had a final paper for Islamic Feminism (about how activists are not effective... having a bad economy, being in a war, and having a weak government are all ways to forward female rights, however). I had a final project for Community Service Learning (where I made materials to use in the classroom, as well as guides for the teachers).

But, for all of you that weren't in my frantically busy shoes this morning, this blogpost is going to look pretty lame. No picture (sorry... I guess I could do one of those DailyBooth ones where I just look lame, sitting in front of a computer, but that wouldn't be fun for any of us.)

So basically, I feel like I'm done. (There is only a Tuesday group project documentation and a Wednesday test left.)

And I definitely acted like I was done. After turning in the last thing at 6:30pm, I wandered CMU for an hour and a half, checking in on the IPL cricket finals (then leaving, pretty quickly), then chatting with Samreen and Aysha in the undergraduate robotics lab.

When I got home, Sara had the TV turned on. So I sucked my brains out for a few (quite, quite a few) hours, watching movies, putting some things in a box to try to ship tomorrow, and buying yet more tickets for this epic May journey... that isn't quite long enough for everything!

Vignettes, or Day 112 in Doha

I have discovered I will be in eight different countries in May; nine if you count a two-hour layover in London. In order of travel: Oman, UAE, Qatar, Bahrain, Jordan, Egypt, Turkey, (UK,) USA.

I was going to take a picture of the French toast I had for lunch today. Then I ate it all.

The French call French toast "lost bread," since you often use stale bread for it. My roommate was from France last semester. This semester, my roommate is from Qatar (though her roots are in Yemen.)

I have one project, one paper, one presentation, and one test tomorrow. After that, I'll only have one test left.

I have a pen I brought from the U.S. that has "Student Dormitory Council" on it. Somehow, I haven't lost it. It will be one well-traveled pen.

It was Earth Day (or day after Earth Day, or something), so I went around and collected all the papers that only had printing on one side so I could print on the other side the slides I need to study.

I split a "Crown Pizza" with Abdalla while studying. Like the McArabia, it was something new... and we also ate all of it before I thought about getting a picture. (Ours only had meatballs in the crust.)

While writing my post yesterday, I feel asleep a few times. That is why it might have said something along the lines of "Sara's dad was waiting feedback And then picked me later then 8pm. Qatari time." I apologize. I meant to say that Sara was thinking she was going to pick me up at 5:30pm, but actually ended up arriving (after a few text message exchanges) at 8pm.

I didn't leave the house until it was already dark today. Sometimes, weekends are just sad.

A Very Long Engagement, or Day 111 in Doha

My wonderful, lovely roommate (who sometimes might not clean up all her dishes, and sometimes might not take out the trash, and sometimes might leave all the lights and her stuff everywhere) redeemed herself by inviting me to her uncle's engagement party tonight.

I was scrambling around for a dress, and never did end up getting a fancier one than the one I already had. I knew that these things were pretty lavish and pretty glittery, which is not me at all... but I made do.

So the deal around here is that first, a marriage is arranged by the parents; often the mother goes and proposes to the other mother, then the men get involved, and then the potential bride and groom are (usually) given veto rights.

This happens before the couple really knows each other, however. I've heard that the couple can "go on dates", but sometimes chaperoned (that part is unclear and dependent on the family), sometimes after the engagement, sometimes after signing the wedding papers.

Around here, again according to some, the papers are signed before the wedding so that the couple can get to know each other, and then possibly divorce before the wedding if they aren't compatible.

Well, what I went to was the engagement party (the wedding is sometime in July), and basically everything you see in an American wedding reception happened at this engagement party - with a twist.

First, the people gathered. I think people had been trickling in for at least two hours when I got there at 8:00, and people continued coming in until 9 or later.

At about 9, the bride came in. There was much pomp and circumstance, and the doors opened, and there she was, with her long, intricate, pink dress, her hair that must have taken hours and weighed a ton from all the hairspray, and her make-up that, again, must have taken quite a while.

She looked like she was going to cry, though. A bit of an overwhelming day, I would think. She had to walk very slowly, since at each three steps, her long dress would start catching under her heels, and the attendants would have to rearrange it for her.

Another different thing: these attendants were like the maids or the staff of the banquet hall. In the U.S., they would be the bridesmaids or her sisters or something.

She got up on the long, platform, then up on the throne-couch after it, and sat a looked pretty for quite a while as the cameras were rolling and the photographer was snapping away.

I began seeing women starting to cover up. An abaya here, a shayla there, until I went into the back room (off to one side was actually a bedroom!) to put on the abaya I borrowed from Sara.

If I hadn't have been wearing a dress that bared my shoulders and knees, I probably wouldn't have bothered, but since I would wear this dress out in public, I decided to join in on the modesty.

Seconds before Sara's uncle (the groom) entered the room, all of Sara's immediate family unveiled. Since it was just him, and he was a close family member, they uncovered to take better pictures with him.

He walked in, got up on the dancing platform, then joined his wife-to-be on the couch-throne.

Now, all the traditions started. First was the ring... and the necklace, and the bracelet, and the earrings. Not just one piece of jewelry, but a whole set!

Next they drank out of separate goblets of apple juice, then stuck both their straws into one of them, possibly symbolizing the unity of marriage.

Cutting and eating the cake was next. Cutting was easy, but I didn't get to see how the feeding went. There was not cake over their faces, so I would guess that this part is more tame than its America counterpart.

Then Sara and I and her family covered so that the bride's father and brother could come in as well. Sara's grandfather accompanied them in, and more pictures were taken.

Off to the side, a portable photography studio was set up. Sara and I got a portrait of the two of us (which I basically can't show anyone, because she's not covered). All of the highly-dressed up women would go over and vamp it up for a few minutes to show off all the hard work.

Once the groom and men left, it was a mad rush for the buffet. The food disappeared basically before I got my hands on a plate, and there was no queuing involved. I managed to grab some chicken (which tasted exactly like barbecue-sauce-soaked chicken), as well as different salads, pita (bread) and rice.

It was a good thing I got up to dance quite a few times over the course of the night. First off, I was nibbling at the desserts all night, so it was a good calorie burner. It also was an activity that didn't require a shared language: everyone could laugh at my strange attempt at an Arab dance. It was also one of the few entertainment activities (with the others being eating, being photographed,or people-watching).

Close to the end of the night, Sara's older sister (who had also been "taking care" of me throughout the night) requested English songs from the DJ. This had started when the DJ randomly played Shakkira's "Hips Don't Lie" then spun out from there.

We continued dancing until half past midnight, when Sara's father came to pick us all up (and return me to EC).

Well, we stuck around, asked for a few more pictures, and generally were just late getting to the car. We were some of the last ones to leave at 1:00am. I was pretty physically exhausted from dancing (especially since they were teaching me how to use my hips a bunch! It felt like Latin American dancing sometimes, with all the pelvic movements...) but very mentally happy. Another cultural experience that I won't forget!

Pigeonhole Principle, or Day 39 in Doha

Well I mentioned quite a while ago about the pigeons living on my windowsill. It is finally time to introduce "Sara" and "Corinne!"

Let's start with the reason that real, roommate Sara and I don't keep the window open. There is a giant hole in the screen, and since we now have a happy pair of pigeons roosting there, I wouldn't want them to accidentally get into our room.


So I tried to be kind while taking pictures of them, so shot through the glass. However, it is a bit hard to see the beady eyes of "Sara" (or "Corinne", I don't know that we know which one is which) gazing back


So I stuck my camera through said hole while the other one was guarding the nest, which, sadly, caused a bit of a stir. So instead of beady eyes, you get this rather cool action shot of "Corinne" (or "Sara", as you may choose) fleeing the nest after some human monster "attacks" him/her.


Well, that did leave me with a chance to actually see what was in the nest... two eggs! They are expecting "Sara Jr." and "Corinne Jr."!



No worries, the pair was back to sitting on the eggs within the hour. And I'm sure the white one is there now, as we speak.

This, of course, sparked a five minute Internet search about pigeons and eggs, so, in case you were wondering, pigeons always lay two eggs, the first about a day or two after the second. Once the second one is laid, then they begin incubating them. The first egg doesn't begin growing or maturing until the incubation starts, so both eggs will hatch at about the same time. The incubation period is from 17-21 days. I noticed them about two weeks ago, took these pictures about a week ago, so I'm thinking we'll have squabs (or squeaks or whatever else you want to call baby pigeons) within the week!

And my day? Well, I spent 8-12 hours today (depending on whether you count the time I spent from midnight until 4am) coding today, and now my hands hurt a bit, and I just got some ice cream to celebrate, and I'm ready to sleep in my bed instead of on the couch for the night!

I am Doha, or Day 14 in Doha

In some ways it is hard to believe that it has been two weeks. School just started (even though it feels like forever) and I'm still loving the sunny days.

I thought that I'd talk about different forms of dress around here. Let's start with a "hijab." This is a blanket term for modest cultural wear (like the full outfit of cloak and scarf) or just a headscarf worn by many of the women around here. Most Muslim women from a lot of different backgrounds wear the headscarf, from Sudan to the Gulf states.

The "abayah" is the next word I learned. It is a black cloak that primarily Qatari (though some Emirati) women wear over their clothing. After being here for a bit, there is quite a bit of variance. The wrists be drape-y or elasticized, with embroidery or lace, closed all the way up the front, or with their pants and fancy heels showing. There can be color on the cuff and the ends of the scarf, but the scarf always matches.

Finally, the most modest and most religious wear a "niqaab," or a veil that shows a woman's eyes. Some, though very few, wear a veil fully covering there faces.

The "abayah" was the subject (possibly inadvertently) in my Islamic Feminism class today. It started with a question on the Western perception of hijab (modest wear, including the scarf, abayah, and maybe even veil). And, in my opinion, I believe a lot of Americans think that 1) Muslim women are forced to wear hijab and 2) that they don't want to.

Both these statements are mostly incorrect. There is no physical penalty for not wearing hijab, though there is a bit of a cultural stigma against it. However, my professor, a Qatari woman, only wears an abayah without the headscarf as a sign of respect. So it is because they love their country and culture that they wear it. That, too, isn't the same for everyone. I know a Qatari girl who is required to wear it as uniform, but goes out without it because she doesn't like it.

In the class, the discussion turned to the different ways and reasons to wear abayah, hijab, and niqaab. Many women take it off when they leave the country, because it doesn't have the same significance abroad, of solidarity and family values. I think there is also the practical matter of not having to deal with the stares and insinuations that would result from wearing an abayah as well.

While we're talking about cultural differences, I have two things to show you.


1) Yes, I'm eating fries, no big deal. The big deal is that these fries were delivered. What kind of McDonald's delivers? The Qatar kind. So Sarah ordered them for me (what a good roommate) and we had a nice little chat about what her life is like, what my life is like, the crazy amount of sisters we have (she also has three, but has two brothers on top of that!), and, since our schedules don't align much, it was good to see her.


2) It is. The best. Bumper sticker. I have ever seen. Camel + Heart = Pure Awesome. I wanted to peel it off the car, except I didn't know what it said until my roommate translated it for me. It says, "I am Doha." Now I want it even more. This is my quest.