Wanderlust (Qatar-So-Far)

Ramadan, The "What?" and the "WHA'?!"

2012-07-29T12:29:00.000-07:00

The 20th of July marked the beginning of Ramadan this year (in Qatar). It is the 9th, and holiest month of the lunar Islamic calendar which lasts 29-30 days depending on the crescent moon. This means that the dates change every year. (Christians also use a lunar calendar to calculate the date of Easter).

Ramadan is a month of prayer, repentance, compassion, charity, and a time where most Muslims spend time with family and refocus their attention on their faith. The first verses of the Holy Qur'an were revealed to the Prophet Mohammed by the Angel Gabriel during a period of meditation and solitude in a cave near Mecca in the 7th century (Gabe' also PM'd Mary and Zechariah about the births of Jesus and John in the Old and New Testament).

Mohammed receiving his first revelation from the angel Gabriel. Illustration from the book Jami' al-Tawarikh by Rashid al-Din, 1307A.D, Persia; now in the collection of the Edinburgh University Library, Scotland.

During this holy month, Muslims fast from dawn until dusk. They not only abstain from food and drink during daylight hours, they also abstain from (in no particular order) sex, smoking and entertainment. They will also curb undesirable emotions such as anger, greed, envy, lust and refrain from gossip.

Ramadan Cliffs notes.

Things to keep in mind during Ramadan:

Eating, Drinking & Smoking

Fasting is compulsory for Muslims. Non-muslims are expected to respect and support those fasting.

No eating, drinking, or smoking in public during daylight hours. It is illegal. No gum chewing, no spitting, no mints. And don't think you're smart and tempt fate by taking a sip or a snack in your car, no one wants to get into trouble or see what jail is like because they were caught drinking water. Adults found eating or drinking during fasting time can face up to three months imprisonment or a fine of up to QR 3,000 (that's about $850 USD) or both.

Dress Code

Modest attire is particularly important during Ramadan, and a rule to abide by year-round. This is a Muslim country, you did not land in Palm Beach. No shorts, mini-skirts, tank tops, sleeveless tops, or revealing articles of clothing. Are your knees, shoulders or muffin top showing? Then cover it up, especially during this month. You can be fined, arrested or "verbally castrated" for showing too much skin. Dressing indecently is also punishable.

PDA

No public displays of affection. Another all-the-time rule, but more so during this month.

Watch your Language

No abusive language, which includes giving the finger or any other rude or lewd gestures. This is also punishable by law and is another a year-round rule. Suffer from road rage? Time to get your wife to drive you around. Ryan isn't even on our car insurance anymore. Don't believe me? Ask him.

And General Merrymaking...

No singing, dancing, laughing, joking, music, loud tv/ipod playing or anything that can be mistaken for lawless merrymaking. Turn your car stereo down and be mindful about playing loud music, even in the comfort of your own home. Again, this is a time of reflection.

Night clubs are closed and bars and restaurants do not serve alcohol during this month.

The QDC (Qatar Distribution Company, the one place you can buy alcohol in the country) is closed for the month also.

DO Enjoy

The food! The Iftar and Sohour feasts in the evenings are amazing!

No traffic! Hurrah! ... Except for traffic jams just before Iftar or breaking fast.

The culture! Visit Fanar or Katara on open days to learn more about the culture and faith.

The Sales!! A shopaholic never had it so good, and shops are open until midnight - 1am.

Time with your family and friends, and take the time for a little reflection this month.

Ramadan Mubarak
Have a Blessed Ramadan

This Might be Wildly Inappropriate ...

2012-07-21T06:09:00.000-07:00

... but sometimes you just have to laugh.
Mundane things, such as doing groceries, are never mundane in the Middle East when you come across gems like this.

This photo was taken in the grocery during my first few weeks here in Qatar. The 'octupussy' has been more appropriately labelled since then.
Happy weekend folks.

Mixed seafood? ..

M.I.A

2012-07-14T14:26:00.001-07:00

Hi guys and gals, I'll be posting again soon. So much to tell!

I've had visitors, I went to Trinidad for Carnival, I was on Safari in Kenya, vacationed in Thailand, Malaysia, and a few other places, there have been baby showers (not mine), bridal showers, and high teas, and a few more surprises and lots of news form the M.E!

Keep checking this space. Lots of news to come!

In the meantime check out my newly updated website here !

West, East, West Five Times Fast

2011-11-10T03:45:00.000-08:00

The Ballad of East and West

Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgment Seat;
But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face, though they come from the ends of the earth!

[...]

Mont Blanc, Ialy/France

The world is a much smaller place since Kipling wrote his 1889 poem.

If there was just one thing I have learned this summer it is that Asia is as sophisticated and as historically and culturally vast as the Europe I have known since I was that little girl traveling 10+ hours in the jumpseat of dads L1011, and as the twenty-something year old that rendezvoused in Italy for a year as an artist.

This August we flew East, then West, then East then... West.. then East... then West.

Jet lag? By the time we were done our bodies did not know which way was up.

The wonderful thing about living in the Middle East is that you're quite literally in "the Middle" (not to be confused with my favorite sitcom). Six hours west, "bonjour Geneva," and 3 943 miles and eight hours east, "ni how Hong Kong!" We are never too far from any destination, and certainly not far enough for me to not jump at the opportunity (and onto a plane) to head off to anywhere for three days or less. --Bonus if there's champagne!.. and lobster... and a giant seat that reclines into a bed; then there is no question what I won't be doing in the desert heat (staying home watching tv, that's for sure!).

I sing "It's a small world after all" in my head all the way to the plane... Who would have known the world doesn't fall off at the furtherest Caribbean Airlines shopping destination?

World here I come! I said I'd get out east one way or another, and with a nice gentle great big shove by my management team at CAL, and a tug from a handsome best friend from flight school and here I am. Thank you team, you're in the right position to kiss my -.

So here's what my August looked like!

Chanting in the Hundred Dragons Hall, Buddha Relic, Singapore.

Sri Mariamman Temple, Singapore's oldest Hindu temple (1827).

Marina Bay Sands, Singapore

Geneva

United Nations, Geneva

Star Ferry, Hong Kong

Hong Kong

Zurich

Homeward bound

The Thing With The Visa ...and The Other Visa

2011-08-24T04:20:00.000-07:00

The thing with the passport I possess is that to travel to most places I must obtain a travel visa. There was no exception when it came to our Thai honeymoon (see post 'From One (Amazing Day) To Ten)', so off we went to the Royal Thai Embassy in Doha with passports and supporting documents in hand.

Ryan walked up to the visa counter while I took a seat behind a couple Qataris. He returned moments later and sat next to me with an expression on his face that told me I was about to receive some bad news. I had a moment of panic.

What?! What had happened that we can't go on our spectacular vacation?!

We had all of our documents, Ry explained. All but one.

"Um, I have to give you written permission to travel."

Silence.

"Well,... if you want me on our honeymoon then you better write that letter of permission."

"Right... got it!"

He hustled back to the counter and scribbled something on a plain piece of A4 printing paper along the lines of 'I hereby allow my wife to travel with me to Thailand...'

Was this what I was being warned about all this time? That wasn't so bad, kind of like ripping off a band-aid. Once you've had your autonomy threatened in the M.E you realize it's actually not an unpleasant experience (once you have an accommodating spouse), nor is it the end of the world. Gasp! Did I really just say that? To be fair this was a requirement for the Thai visa and not something I have to get every time I leave Qatar.

Being the strong, fiercely independent third-wave feminist he knows me to be, Ryan was still worried I may have been holding back my anger as we got into the car. However, I genuinely found it amusing that he had to write a letter of permission for me for anything. Saying that, I am sure I would have been furious wasting time at the embassy had he not been there. That's the nice thing about toting your doting husband around everywhere.

"Will you stop asking me if I'm okay? I'm glad I got my visa, regardless of how I got it. Now, would you just drive please?"

The Thing with the Other Visa...

On our way home I called our bank to activate my credit card that had just been issued to me.
It was 'simple' the bank teller said to me the day before, just call the number on the card, give them my name and Qatar ID number and...

"Ms. Shannon, can I speak to your husband?"
"Excuse me?"
"Is Ryan there?"
"Ha! Sure!"

I put the phone on speaker...

"Mr. Ryan, is it okay that we activate your wife's credit card?"
"Yes, it's okay. You can activate her card."
Ryan grins at me.
I roll my eyes as I hang up and he laughs.

Did I mention that every time I use the credit card a text message is sent to Ryan letting him know where I have been shopping and how much I spent?

Some men get text messages every time their wives leave and re-enter the country (they are allowed three,.. wives that is). We're not sure why Ryan does not get these text messages but he only has one wife to keep track of, so that shouldn't be too hard for him to handle.

People are surprised that I find none of this intrusive or offensive. I find it no different and far more transparent than other countries that have CCTV, access to your financial information, personal records, etc. Things that I can't do in public include giving someone the finger and stealing someone's falcon, along with a list of other things I probably shouldn't be doing anyway. It does not in any way affect my day to day life, and when things like these come up I oblige. Why? Because we have a happy life here. That's why. In the meantime I am afforded far more liberties here than I was where I am from because of safety.

Know Your Thobe

2011-08-02T08:25:00.000-07:00

Censorship - Stickers and Sharpies

2011-07-27T04:00:00.000-07:00

How many times can my magazines be censored this month?

Hint: much more than this (below).
These are just a few pages of about 30 or so that have been censored in the couple magazines I bought this month.

To be honest I find it more comical than annoying or intrusive as I wonder who sits in what office where with a black Sharpie and white stickers to cover offending female bits.

Below are pages from my Women's Health, Psychology Today and Marie Claire magazines.

Someone went through a lot of trouble to re-make almost the entire cover of the Psychology Today magazine on white sticker paper, and The Women's Health got more than a few layers of the white stickers to cover up that bikini bottom.

Below are examples of censorship of the black Sharpie variety.

Truth be told, this is nothing compared to Saudi where they draw on clothes and scratch out faces in pen.

On a side note, as I am not in the habit of buying children's books, but
did I mention that Disney's Piglet is banned in the Middle East?
I suppose it's understandable because he's pork right?
Sorry Piglet, no visa for you.
On some online forums, locals have said that the censorship of Piglet may be more to do with the sexual ambiguity of the character than because he's a pig (because he is pink Piglet is seen as a girl) and he (she) is naked... so poor Piglet gets Sharpied out of books along with breasts and bums.
By the way, anyone notice Pooh doesn't have any pants on? I'm guessing that's okay because he's a bear? or because he's a boy?

This post is brought to you by the letters "T & "A"

From One (Amazing Day) to Ten

2011-07-23T09:29:00.000-07:00

I organized one very special day (with a team of talented people), while Ryan single-handedly organized the ten-day trip of a lifetime.

While everyone was having their mid-day coffees and nursing their hangovers over Sunday brunch after our wedding, we were already in JFK, as we made our way to the other side of the world for the kind of vacation dreams are made of.

Two days later we landed in Bangkok and then Koh Samui, and took a boat ride to the island of Koh Phangan to our five star villa at the Santhiya Resort and Spa.

Words can not describe the magic of this island and the amazing time we had there.

Reception

View from the Spa.. we had Thai massages almost every day.

Rasta Baby - a cute beach bar next to the resort

Our awesome villa, too big to fit into one photo with its waterfalls, huge grotto, orchid garden, outdoor shower and tub, bridge, separate living room, ..I could move in here.

Local fruit table at breakfast buffet at Chantara, Santhiya - yumm

Ang Thong's amazing snorkeling

Emerald Saltwater lake

Elephant trekking

Thing Nai Pang Yai beach

Dinner at the Seaside Bar at Santhiya - my favorite spot

Kohm Loy wishing lantern

Home Again via One Epic NYC Shopping Spree

2011-07-10T06:09:00.000-07:00

Apologies for my absence. I have been --what else? Traveling.
I also got married again (see "Kuala Lumpur to meet the best man and how to avoid prison") so that explains my extended leave.

The countdown was on for our wedding day and I was back in Trinidad last month to get things rolling,.. and by 'get things rolling' I mean check in with my wedding planner, who has single-handedly organized everything while I lived the life out in the Middle East. I cannot imagine what I would have done without her except that it would have involved a lot of tears. (Laura Darwent Weddings).
Special thanks to my mum, dad, and my best girl-friends.
How do you plan a stress-free wedding? Surround yourself with these wonderful people.

So, what have I been up to in the last month and a bit?

We re-visited Kuala Lumpur.. for the pork of course.

We flew back to Doha from Malaysia and I left for New York three days later.

I met a famous 'Fugee on my flight this time. He walked up and down the first class aisles stretching his legs during our 13 hour flight. He introduced himself and took a seat next to me. He was friendly and down to earth. Poor fella, after chatting about Haiti, traveling, and visiting Qatar, I think I embarrassed him when I asked for his autograph,.. for my mum.

Mum met me in JFK hours later. We stuffed our bags into a cab and off we went on our week-long pre-wedding vacation in NYC.
Really, this trip was supposed to be all about the final fittings for my wedding dress and bringing the dress down to Trinidad, but let's be honest here: two women + New York = Plenty Shopping.
The buy-an-extra-suitcase-to-come-home kind of shopping.

We stayed at the gargantuan Marriott Marquis in Times Square in the heart of the Broadway theater district. The weather the week we were there was glorious. We shopped, we went sight-seeing, we took rickshaws, had nice brunches, dinners, went to the theater, picked up some last minute wedding things, and visited Kleinfeld several times to have my dress fitted within an inch of its life.

We went to see Billy Elliott. The Tony Award winning show did not disappoint. We left the theater and ran into (quite literally) Robin Williams who was exiting through the back door of his Broadway production next door, "Bengal Tiger at Baghdad Zoo." Mum wanted so badly to get his autograph on our playbill (from a totally different play), but I pretended I didn't hear her and did one better by getting her a great photo with her blackberry instead.

Twelve pairs of shoes, eight cocktail dresses, ten gym outfits (yeah- outfits), five bathing suits, two mother-of-the-bride evening gowns, eighteen wedding candles,... tops, bottoms, undies, nighties,.. things we needed, things we didn't...
Mum and I flew home to Trinidad one week later and 52 pounds heavier (if we're grossly underestimating). We had a fabulous mother-daughter-fun-filled trip. We were homeward bound and counting down the days to the big day.

I spent the few weeks home before the wedding having a great vacation with my friends and family. I wasted no time stressing about the wedding, and was happy and enjoying every valuable moment there.

Qatar FAQ

2011-05-29T21:27:00.000-07:00

I get so many questions about Qatar.
My blog is about my life here (as well as my travels) and has always been intended to be for my friends and family to see and experience the world through my eyes, via the world wide web, all without the Sharia law and 50 degree Celsius summers, -- hey, that's a pretty sweet deal.

So here are a few fast facts about the place where I live and call home.

Qatar?
Pronounced Cat'arr.
The locals say "Guttar." Try saying it with a silent 'n' at the beginning while almost swallowing your tongue and you've got it.

Where is this place?
Middle East, bordering the Persian Gulf and Saudi Arabia.

Capital?
Doha.

Official Language?
The official language is Arabic, though English is widely spoken.

What are the locals called?
Qatari.

Official Religion?
Islamic.
There is a mosque in our compound (there is one on almost every corner) and we can hear call to prayer five times a day starting at 3am. It can be heard from anywhere in Qatar and is also broadcast on the radio, and over the malls PA system.
We have a Catholic church in Qatar. It is on the outskirts of the city and has no steeple, cross, bell or sign. It's beautiful inside and there is mass almost every hour in a different language.

Government?
Absolute monarchy.

Population?
1,700,00 (30% of which are Qatari).
Expatriatesform the majority of Qatar's residents. Most expats that reside in Doha working in the oil and gas industry are male, making the ratio of males to females a whopping 3.46 males :1 female. Surprisingly, men have far more respect for women here than they do where I come from. Believe it.

Currency?
Qatari Riyal (QAR)
1US = 3.64 QAR

What time is it over there?
UTC +3
That's 7 hours ahead of Trinidad for those that like to call us at 3am.

Big country?
Bigger than Trinidad, but it's only 4,416 sq miles (that's Trinidad x4).

So, it's like desert?
It's mostly a flat and barren desert covered with loose sand and gravel, complete with sand dunes and wild camels outside of the cities. Lately it's one big construction zone and desert - yes. So saying "greener pastures" is a bit of an oxy-moron when saying I've moved on, but it works.

Water?
Zilch. Water here is more expensive than gas.

Is it very hot?
Very hot, but it can also be very cold.
Summers are 29-48 degrees C, but winters are actually quite cool, around 13-22 degrees C. A couple things you'll notice if you ever visit, there are no clouds, and summer nights are hot (30 degrees C, that's mid day heat in the Caribbean at night time).

Qatar... they have oil right?
Qatar produces 1.213 million barrels of oil a day, and has oil reserves of 25 billion barrels, enough to last the country at least another 37 years. Meanwhile, Qatar's natural gas reserves are closer to 25 trillion cu m, ans is larger than the peninsula itself. Oil and gas have made Qatar the highest per-capita income and fastest growing country in the world. Before the discovery of oil, the economy of the Qatari region focused on fishing and pearl diving.

Something interesting.
Qatar has intimate ties with the US military, and is the location of the US Central Command's Forward Headquarters and Combined Air Operations Center (basically huge US military base in the desert just outside Doha).

Weekends are the same everywhere right?
Wrong. Weekends here are Friday & Saturday (not Saturday & Sunday).

So it's strict there right?
Qatar's laws are liberal compared to some of the other Muslim states (such as Saudi), though not as liberal as UAE and Bahrain.

Can you drive?
Yes. Women can legally drive in Qatar.

Do you have to dress?
Yes, I have to 'dress'. I can wear the same things I wear in Trinidad, jeans tops etc, but I always cover my shoulders and chest if not with a conservative top with a large wraparound scarf or shawl. I do not have to wear a hijab or cover my hair.

Can you drink there?
The laws of Qatar tolerate alcohol, however it is only served in a few hotel bars and hotel restaurants. Muslims cannot buy or consume alcohol because the Quran states that "intoxicants are abominations of Satan's handiwork." There is a place that expats can buy their own alcohol to consume at home. The catch? There is exactly one liquor store in the country. The other catch? You have to have a license to buy anything there. It is illegal to show or drink alcohol in a public place in Qatar and you can be fined if you are caught transporting the alcohol bought at the store anywhere other than straight home.

Life in the Middle East has been quite an eye opening experience, and it still feels like I am living in a giant Disney M.E. There is still so much more to tell, and even more for me to see and explore and share.

Posts to come -- Qatar's Anti-terrorism campaign, censorship and the Doha debates!

Married Life

2011-04-23T08:08:00.000-07:00

I stood at the kitchen table folding a load of clothes. All grey this time. I could only guess there must have been another rogue tissue or bill somewhere in our black clothes again.

I turned to my husband who was happily playing Free Falcon (a fighter-jet computer game) with his force feedback joystick and throttles. Bless him for trying to help around the house.

"Can I ask you something?" I winced.
"Sure." Still playing.
"Promise not to get offended?"
"Uhhh... Okay." He pauses his mission and looks up at me from under his cap.
"Well,... can you please stop doing the laundry?"
He stares at me, blinks.......
"...............Sure!" and un-pauses his game.

Well, that went better than I expected. Fewf.

"And tell your wing-man to make sure you're back at base in time for dinner, okay?" *snicker*
"Yeah, yeahhhhhh, hush your butt."

Selamat Datang Malaysia

2011-04-16T05:53:00.000-07:00

How does one make a trip better than the last?

Schweinshaxe

It should almost always involve shopping, pork or wine, or all three if you're really lucky.
Being the spokeswoman for having the most fantastically good bad luck (not a typo), I managed to hit the trifecta of good trip karma,
-- again!

You might think I go on about pork, but when you live somewhere that does not have (proper) bacon you'll understand, and this is coming form an ex-vegan (not 'virgin' Al, vegan).
No Qatar, turkey and beef-bacon does not a bacon-substitute make. I like the greasy, stick-to-your-ribs, pork-tastic salted strips of marbled fat that makes any dish a squeal-worthy delight.

This has been a big year for me. I have started eating meat. I have started having wine with dinner, and cocktails with lunch. I have taken leave from my big awesome career, and I have moved halfway across the world, and I got married and I'm planning a wedding.

I digress..

Downtown Kuala Lumpur

So anyhow..
We also managed to tick off a big item on the wedding to-do list on our last trip to Kuala Lumpur.
Groom's suit - Check!

So, how do you one-up the last mini-vacation to Malaysia?
Fly back two weeks later and give it a good effort!

Here is how it's done.

Pavillion Couture in the heart of the trendy Bukit Bintang district

Find yourself downtown, have crispy pork knuckles and wine at a German bistro first, Then go shopping (while you're half sloshed), and Then meet the best-man in a fancy bar next to Dior and Louis Vuitton for fancier drinks.
Then, fall asleep on the train back to the posh digs and wake up at noon the next day for the best buffet this part of the world has to offer so far. Go to the gym to work off the guilt and then get a massage for all the hard work.

Our hotel in KL

Need a break? Send the hubby on a short flight and order room service for dinner and watch some bad Malay' tv and see what trouble you can get into before you fly back the next day.
Note to self: next time get the husband to leave his credit card, Louis Vuitton can't be charged to your room.

Useful Malay phrase of the day:

"Hoverkraft saya penuh dengan belut."

"My hovercraft is full of eels."

The Post You've All Been Waiting For

2011-04-04T12:56:00.000-07:00

You know, the one where I complain bitterly about Qatar and make a list of things I hate about this place and about being away from Trinidad and flying?

So here it is. Here's the thing that is the absolute bane of my existence. It's right here in Qatar sitting right next to me as we speak (no, not my husband).

It's my own personal Frigidair portal to hell...

My washer-dryer.

did I mention he's temperamental?

Four hours-- FOUR hours to do one small load of laundry.
Here's some logic for you Frigidair! Your washer/dryer can wash 8 lbs of laundry (that's five-six t'shirts if you're lucky) but only Dry 4 lbs. How does this make sense? A consumer must remove half of their wet clothes from the washer-dryer for the drying cycle. Really? You let a man onto your design team or what?

Let's look at some math: 4 hours = < 5 t'shirts = 2-3 loads of laundry every day.

I haven't even mentioned the noise level of this little monster that lives too close to our living-room couch. You think Mugabe is bad? Try sitting next to this as$hole all day.

My beautiful bachelorette-pad in Trinidad had the most perfect bachelorette washing machine and dryer, all shiny and faithful, it took me 45 mins max to do a huge load of laundry (18lbs to be exact). So why, in an otherwise perfect expat world, does my washer-dryer have to be so awesomely bad?

On an infinitely more positive note.
The dry-cleaning place in the compound is open every day and they do home delivery. So as of a few days ago, my routine is this: I drop my clothes off on the way to the spa.. or pool.. whichever.
Life is rough out here in the M.E.

*update*
While I was looking for a picture to go along with this post I found a link that I would like to let the husband know I had absolutely nothing to do with called "top ten reasons why I hate my f*cking washing machine."

First of all, we have a washer-dryer, which is way worse than a regular washing machine.
Second, even though her problems sound just like mine, she still has a working dryer.
Third, I can not be linked to this site because you'd see the payment for the domain name "ifuckinghatemywashingmachine" on your credit card bill.

P.S

Laundry strike starts tomorrow.

*update*

The Mrs. gets a new machine.

*bonus*

It comes with a free vacuum.

That time of year !

2011-04-01T08:15:00.000-07:00

With some negotiation (and lots of begging), I managed to talk my way into getting another "one week only" pass to fly home to Trinidad for Carnival! (with a detour through Chicago to visit Kelley, see previous post to read about my Chicago trip).

I was so excited!

After a few days in the cold I was home at last. I turned up the radio, ordered some of our delicious local cuisine and convinced my mother to accompany me in the mad carnival traffic to collect my beautiful red costume.

Jet lag? Ha !

Carnival was here again! Oh yes!

Two days of dancing half-naked down the streets of Port of Spain to suggestive calypsos, and drinking copious amounts of alcohol all before the Lenten season begins? Bring it on !

Carnival is celebrated on the Monday and Tuesday before Ash Wednesday. You can read all about lent in the Canonical gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke about Jesus' forty days in the desert (not on this blog).
Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of this forty day period of prayer and fasting...

So, with great enthusiasm, on the Monday and Tuesday before Ash Wednesday,
Trinidad lives it up!

This is the most significant cultural event on our calendar, and if we are not celebrating Carnival,
we are usually busy preparing for it.

Monday morning I woke up before my alarm. My heart was pounding. I was so excited. I hopped out of bed, pulled on my stockings, my teeny-tiny bottom piece, and rhinestoned top and I picked up my phone..

Kelley and me

"Kelley! I'm readyyy!"

"Woman! We still have an hour before we leave."

"Oh......... OK! Picking ya up in 20!"

Monday was amazing. The music this year was the best I've heard for as long as I've been playing mass, I was with a group of wonderful friends, the weather was glorious and the grand stands were opened again this year, so we had a stage to cross.

Tuesday was even better.

Warm weather with a few clouds blocking the blazing sun and cool breeze blowing down the avenues, the music was blaring from the massive music trucks, bass pumping..

Masqueraders were out in their full costumes, bright colours, huge feathered headpieces, glitter, rhinestones, boots, capes, beads, carnival makeup, carts full of ice and alcohol, dancing, sweat dripping down our backs, smiling and hugging friends no one had seen since last carnival.

It's the only time of year I get to see most of my friends and family all at once as the country pours out into the streets to celebrate. Black, white, blue, green, young, old, rich, poor, we all party together in the street for two full days.. it doesn't get better than this folks. Trinidad's Carnival truly is "the greatest show on earth" and there is no doubting why it is considered one of the best carnivals in the world.

I'll be back for Carnival 2K12 !

Thank You Chicago

2011-03-21T21:05:00.000-07:00

On my way back to Trinidad (for Carnival), I took a detour through Chicago to visit my best friend and matron of honour, Kelley (so what if I forgot my winter coat in the mad rush to the airport and it's February?).

I decided I'd take a full day to sleep in and recover from my awesomely-bad jet-lag as Kelley and her husband went to work/school. I peeked outside my cozy bedroom window the morning after I landed and saw a thick blanket of snow covering the park, the trees wrapped in ice, and the balcony furniture, cars and park benches now plump white figures covered in fresh powder.
Good morning sleepy Illinois, it's 5am.
Somehow I had forgotten that jet-lag from East to West meant that I wake up at 4-5am on the US/Caribbean side of the planet; thank God they had great TV and a cute little pug named Stella that has personality for days and loves to cuddle.

Snow
Ice
Howling wind
Bundled up neighbors shuffling down the road walking their dogs
The morning papers abandoned on icy steps......

"Morning Shan! Here's a coat you can borrow incase you want to go for a walk later, okay? I'll be home around 7, call me if you need anything."

"Okay! Thanks Kell! Have a great day!" ....'Go for a walk?!'

On my second day I decided to see what Chicago's Art Institute had to offer. Kells and Jono only mentioned it half a dozen times since I've been threatening to visit them, perhaps it was something worth seeing.

Modern - Post-Modern Art Heaven

How had I forgotten that the short-list of paintings that I had not seen in my travels were all housed in this place?
Chicago was always one of those obscure cities my post-modern art professor brought up often that I never figured I'd find myself going to on an art-pilgrimage... not like my Venice Biennale art-Olympics, London and New York art crawls, and trips to France to see Monet's Giverny 'water-gardens'. Chicago was that place on that TV series that I stopped watching a few seasons ago and the city where Bill and Guiliana from E! lived part-time and filmed their reality show.

The Art Institute of Chicago is, hands down, the best modern / post-modern art museum I have ever visited, and the art snob that I am, I am not used to being blown away by a museums collection. It was a truly awe-inspiring seven hours, yes, seven hours.

Cassatt, Van Gogh, Cezanne, Pissarro, Gaugain, Touluse Lautrec, Seurat, Manet,

The best Claude Monet collection outside of Musee d'Orsay in Paris,

Rushca, Dumas, Le Witt, Nauman, Richter, Bourgeois, Flavin, Fischli, Weiss, Whistler, Sargent, Inness, Homer, Tanner, O'Keeffe, Hopper's "Night Hawks", Wood, Carrra, Albright, Munch, Pollock, Dekooning, Newman, Brown, Guston, Hesse, Serra, Stella, Hamilton, Rauschenberg, Lichtenstein, Resenquist, Bacon, Gorky,

Who knew I could like Hockney?,

Matta, Leger, Arp, Miro, Dubuffet, Giacometti, Ernst, Ray, Magritte, DeChirico, ...

I spent the day clicking away at the audio guide trying to soak up every art-history anecdote it had to offer. I didn't make it through the whole gallery and after many hours I was asked to leave, the gallery was closed.. it had closed a while ago...

Amazing.

Amazing collection.

That night I had my first, authentic, Chicago pizza and I passed out around 8. I endured a good teasing as I crept up the stairs to bed and flaked out.

Sunday morning we had brunch at The James, went shopping with Kells and had a nice dinner at a beautiful French-Vietnamese restaurant. My time flew by thanks to my wonderful hosts.

It was home time already... but no big goodbyes as I'd be seeing Kells and Jono in a few days to party in the streets of Trinidad for Carnivallllllll !

Web - Censorship

2011-03-10T21:08:00.000-08:00

They block websites that contain unsavory content here.

I say 'They' in my art-school proverbial-status-quo decision-making-powers-that-be kind of way. The 'they' we used to use in our academic writing in University that started with a capital " T ", as we penned our left-wing papers on advertising, education, subject matter in art, propaganda, and political decision-making.

One service provider in Qatar has "a clear policy that aims to prevent damage to the values of the community from harmful material on websites" that they claim is backed strongly by the locals.

Some of these websites include social-networking sites, celebrity gossip sites, video streaming, and then of course some of the more obvious offenders like those with pornographic content.

Here's the cute pink page that comes up with these goofy little guys telling you that the content is prohibited.

Good Morning Vietnam

2011-02-19T03:31:00.000-08:00

Posing for the camera

Another cozy flight. Another adventure.

We landed in Ho Chi Minh Airport in the early evening. I walked down the long empty corridors of the arrival terminal into the immigration hall. Next in line. My immigration officer looked more like an army officer in green coveralls and a cap.. actually he had the look of an Eastern version of Castro. He click, click, clicked through his computer for what felt like an hour. He told me nothing and sat rigid in his chair.. Click. Click. Click. Click.. What's the problem? Is it my hand-written visa from the embassy in Doha? Have I been air marked? Am I on the next Locked Up Abroad? Oh God. Am I sweating?!
Click. Click... "OK."
"OK?"
"OK."
"OK!" I smile at the officer hardly able to contain myself as I try not to skip and jump past him to collect my baggage. Five minutes suspended in front of a Vietnamese immigration officer is long enough. There is something nerve wracking about a new place with a totalitarian government, a language barrier, and notorious jails, even if all I had to declare is that I packed too much clothes for my two-day stay.

I met up with the Captains wife and we chatted about where to shop while we waited for the crew. One hour later we were at our palatial hotel and off to grab a bite on Pham Ngu Lao St., a bustling strip filled with restaurants, coffee shops, boutiques, and still decorated with red flags and lights for the Chinese New Year days before.

The food in Vietnam is delicious, spicy, sweet, complexed, with ginger, garlic, chili, odd shaped mushrooms, bok choy, baby corn, pork, calamari, fresh fruit juices, iced green tea, gỏi cuốn (spring/summer rolls) and bánh mì (French baguettes!.. a culinary remnant of the French colonial rule which ended in 1954).

We woke up early the following morning and perused the streets lined with stores selling copies of books, dvds, paintings, designer t's, copper buddhas, chop sticks, woven bags, silk, jade bracelets, all at the fraction of the price we're used to in the West. For $100US you'll get $2,000,000 Vietnamese Dong. After the initial sticker shock with items priced in the hundreds of thousands you realize that picking up a handful of things (t'shirts, shorts, shell covered boxes, and bracelets), each with six figure price tags, you get to the cash and realize you've just spent $5US for the ten items in your hands. Dinner? $11US for us both, including alcohol, and that was on the expensive night.

Vietnam... crazy, traffic, smells, dust, markets, narrow streets, bicycles with heavy loads, cool, hot, tangled power lines, red bunting, fruit vendors, crowded markets, chickens, motorbikes, slippers, socks with toes, mani/pedis for $3us, rooms for rent, backpackers, vespas, rickshaws, drugs, cheap designer bags, cheap t's, cheap shorts, cheap food, cheap beer..

Every now and then you visit a place where you can see the cultural stains of war. This usually translates into beautiful and sometimes political story-telling artwork, frescoes, or influences seen in architecture. During this visit we saw national pride, red flags, 'war remnants' museums, and the Thalidomide-like disfigurement of those physically affected by Agent Orange-- second generation war victims born after the end of the Vietnam War. We visited the War Remnants Museum. It was originally opened as "The House for Displaying the War Crimes of American Imperialism" and later renamed as the "Museum of American War Crimes"the name was changed again after the normalization of US relations. Its exhibits included a yard filled with military equipment, tanks, a UH-1 Huey, A-1 Skyraider (my husband told me not to call it a 'bomber' so -- 'Skyrader'... insert eye-rolling smiley here), an F-5A fighter and unexploded ordnance in the corner (!). Inside, the museums rooms were filled with propaganda posters, gory exhibits of graphic photographs of the guerrilla warfare, sadistic acts of violence, and the use and effects of the napalm and phosphorous bombs and Agent Orange. There were visitors crying, others watching in fascination, disbelief, and abject horror, and a very large American woman dressed in a black tracksuit with "making the world a fitter place" written on the back just to lighten the mood.

What makes Vietnam Vietnam are the people. Their warmth and hospitality made every hustle-and-bustle-filled day feel like a fun-filled, hot, sticky adventure.

Good morning Vietnam. See you again soon.

Meet the Burkini

2011-02-09T04:49:00.000-08:00

Meet the burkini... freedom, flexibility, confidence..

Flying & The Saudi Businessman

2011-02-08T09:49:00.000-08:00

"Dad, I have a jumpseat request, I'm going back to Doha and I see you're operating the JFK flight, can I get the jumpseat to New York pretty please?"

"That seat is already taken."

"Don't f around."

"Hahah, just kidding, the jumpseat is yours."

There is nothing like the kind of flying I do now compared to what I used to do. "Chalk and cheese" said the Saudi businessman sitting next to me. I never quite saw it that way, but he was right.

"Winged Victory"/ "Nike of Samothrace" 200-190 BC. Lourve, Paris

I used to sit in the front of the plane where the view and all the buttons and levers are. Every day I had to sit next to a disgruntled Captain and play glorified-bus-driver for 9+ hours. They bad-mouthed me for speaking well, for being too feminine, too outspoken, for expecting too much, for having a good posture, and reading the check-list in a female voice. I was told I was "too proper" and "so much of a woman that I was gay to fly with;" no, I'm not talking about the Middle East, they treat women better than that out here, I'm talking about my old airline job.

The kind of flying I do now involves champagne and seats that fold out into beds large enough to accommodate a camel. I can't count the number of times I've been asked if I miss flying, nor the amount of times I've said "no". It's not rocket science (no pun intended to the guys that still fly the Dash-8 like it's the space shuttle), what was there for me to miss? The taking off or the landing bit? Showing a man that I can do what he did at work in a "mans world" isn't a good idea I found out (I got that line on my flight test... from my check-airman). My ancestry didn't help much either, one Manager told me "you white people ran this place for years, it's we turn now" (hey, I didn't say they had the best grammar, did I?). And 3,000 landings and take-offs later I can safely say I've "been there, done that."

I suppose growing up riding shot-gun on my way to Europe with my captain-dad didn't really prepare me for the reality of the aviation world twenty years later, well after the era of the Sky-Gods. The price I paid for being a young, educated, white woman with a voice in this place? I never got to fly with my dad... but boy did I get a good life handed to me.
And ... I still get to travel with daddy, just like old times.

The Saudi Businessman

After the initial embarrassment of having a Saudi man try to make small talk as he sat next to me in first class, I realized he was talking to me because he recognized that I am a western woman (that might sound daft, but most people here think I am arab because I dress so conservatively and it is rude for a man to approach an arab woman). I had never chatted with a Saudi man before because of the cultural lines drawn here. He was cool and laid back. We chatted about different cultures, traveling, politics, children, education... I asked him about the way people dress in the Middle East, the difference between the mens white ghutra and the red checkered ghutra (no difference, but Saudi men do not starch their head-dress where Qatari men do), why some women wore abbayahs while others only wore hijabs (personal preference), what the solid-gold beak-like things the older women wore across their faces were (an old bedouin tradition). I told him that my husband said that if I was naughty that he'd make me wear a face-cage. He laughed and said "yes" and I laughed thinking "the guys at my old job might agree."

Kuala Lumpur to meet the Best-Man and how to Avoid Prison

2011-01-29T14:46:00.000-08:00

So, I had yet to meet our best-man until a few fine days ago.

To back-pedal a bit, as I speak about my husband and my upcoming wedding at the same time...

Not auditioning for Locked Up Abroad: M.E.

I had decided to move to Qatar before our big June '11 wedding and did not want to stand the chance of being on an episode of "Locked up Abroad: Middle East" for living "immorally".

Visiting my fiance meant getting a nice hotel to apply for my single-woman-visa for me, they copy my passport and monitor my stay. The last time I went they thought I was a working-girl as I checked into my five-star digs (a visa requirement) and hardly spent any time there.

Heading out to the Middle East to visit, far less live with a single man is illegal, so to get the months-long permanent resident process started so that I could live with my fiance, we'd have to get married sooner.. so marry we did in a lovely and intimate civil ceremony that my dad graciously hosted for us, with only four days notice. Thanks dad.

The outpouring of joy and support for us was moving, Ryan was welcomed into my family with open arms and despite all the usual Trinidadian bacchanal, baby-on-the-way rumors at work, and family that were 'shocked' and 'aren't acknowledging the marriage for five years' (see you at the wedding folks), we had an absolutely wonderful day.

So, Off to KL to meet the Best-Man

As I was saying,..
I had not met our best-man, Ry's childhood friend, and boarding-school partner-in-crime, Pete; so we hopped on a plane to Malaysia to meet my newest favorite person.

Pete is the COO of a leading PR Firm in Malaysia, and as as one would imagine of someone at the top of the PR food-chain, he is every bit the gregarious, confident, creative character, and then some.

We spent our two days in Kuala Lumpur at Pete's place. We went shopping, then out to a swank hotel for champagne, beer and lattes, met up with a few other friends, Ezra and Abbas Saad ("Malaysia's Beckham"), then to dinner at a great little dive that Ryan loves for their pork-something-or-other (it was delicious) before heading home for more drinks and old-talk and Sarah Brightman-singing 'till the wee hours of the morning. How Pete made it to work the next day was beyond me. Ryan and I woke up at noon.

We had lunch with Pete before his driver took us back to the hotel at the airport. It was home-time already.

See you in Trinidad in June for our (second) big day Pete !

Copenhagen for my Birthday

2011-01-28T20:20:00.000-08:00

What Birthday is complete without going to a nice dinner with your better half?

"Let's try that new restaurant in Denmark babe, I hear they have great steak." ... They also serve alcohol, not to mention pork -- we were on a plane before I could say "Pølsevogn" (sausage wagon).

We ate like kings for dinner the night we flew in, and went into town for lunch the next day. We walked along the beautiful, historic and very frozen, Nyhavn canal, where we saw remnants of their new years celebration a few days earlier (champagne bottles, streamers and a few chairs on the ice next to the centuries-old ships).
Hans Christian Anderson lived here!

It was bitterly cold, so we were happy to find a cozy little place for a bite. We were blown through the doors of the Hyttefadet pub (opened in 1734) and were greeted by the owner of the wood-paneled, cozy little restaurant full of candle-light and roses, and seated no more than twelve. The walls were full of whimsical and now patinaed paintings by Asger Jorn (1914). We shared a seafood platter, Ry had wine while I hugged my coffee mug to warm up. When we were leaving the owner gave us a special little gift (a fridge-magnet of his iconic restaurant), and told us that we must join his facebook page as we were the first Trinidadians to have a meal there. We left happy and warm with pink cheeks and full tummies. We walked downwind and hopped right back onto the subway back to our hotel.

We picked up a few things for our Doha home in the uber-sleek, Danish-design home-ware-full mall and nipped back to the hotel next door to fight off the cold and nap for our flight home.

Beautiful Copenhagen, we will see more of you next time.

Sweet Maldives

2011-01-23T19:09:00.000-08:00

Ryan took me to the Maldives a few days after Christmas; and no, it wasn't my Christmas present, I am spoiled; that and life is far too short not to enjoy it .. and by that I mean life is too short not to go to the Maldives as part of my (and your) life-long adventure.

We flew into the Republic's capital city, Malé, and took a speed boat to the island of Kandooma, one of the 1,192 coral paradise islands of the Maldives. We sped past dolphins and beautiful water bungalows through the crystal waters of the Indian Ocean atolls. When we arrived we were greeted by our concierge who checked us in while we sipped a fruit cocktail in the lounge, he took us on a tour of the island and then to our bungalow where our bags awaited us. The beaches and water were breathtaking, and there was no end to pampering during our stay. Cocktails on the beach? Yes. Five star spread for dinner? You bet. Movies on the beach in comfy beanbags in the evenings? There's that too.

A very Doha Christmas

2011-01-19T17:46:00.000-08:00

Christmas came to us on Zamzam street as the Doha-family gathered around our table and shared a special lunch and afternoon at our Doha home.

Disney M.E.

2011-01-15T20:38:00.001-08:00

The temperature here is Perfect (n.b. it is winter now, when summer rolls around and it's 50 degrees Celcius I'm sure I'll be dedicating an entire post to the temperature, or air conditioning..).

It feels a little like I'm in Disney; a Middle Eastern themed Disney park with Arabian characters (men in long white shirts, and white or red headdress with black cord, and women in long black abayas with veils covering their faces), falcons with their costumed falcon trainers, a genuine Souq (bedouin market) with costumed guards on white horses, perfect weather and no rain, huge elaborate facades and minarets and Islamic carvings on all of the buildings and mosques with a call-to-prayer sound-track, amazing shopping and expensive coffee... and Abracadabraaaa!!--- we're in Disney M.E.

How many times can you ride "it's a small world" in the Magic Kingdom? The grocery here is out of this world, they have anything I could dream of wanting in nine different varieties from twelve different countries (except ham and alcohol of course), and did I mention service? Yes, service in a grocery --with as many staff as there are customers. Want your pineapple peeled and fresh fish cleaned and de-boned? seasoned? want different icing on that cake? "Of course madam."

There is no Disney that comes without rules....

No pointing (fine).

No wasting drinking water (bigger fine).

No giving the finger (no fine-- you'll make a jail and then they'll deport you).

No wine with your fancy lunch or dinner.. unless you're in a hotel. Saying that, there is a nice array of fresh fruit faux-cocktails on the menu, the lemon-mint is delicious and refreshing and is a popular drink here.

If I want to cross the street I have to take a taxi (or answer to my husband); the driving here is That crazy.

Every now and then you'll see a Qatari man with a falcon on his arm; they are associated with nobility and wealth. There are falcon hospitals here, elite falcon associations, and an airline that allows up to 6 of these birds onboard ....as long as they have their own seats ... oh, and the aircraft also can't be dispatched unless there is a prayer mat (magic carpet) in the cockpit (it's in the MEL!).

The Souk guards are something to see in the old bedouin market -- immaculate white uniforms, white horses decorated with large red cord and tassels, huge guns slung over their shoulders, and a little man with an old wheelbarrow running behind them picking up after the horses with a shovel. It's a sight that could easily be straight out of a Sunday morning cartoon (or the Disney M.E parade).

The women wear beautiful abayas made of the finest silks and luxurious cotton, often jeweled at the sleeves, skirts and edges of their veils. The abayas are all made and often customized by the Western designers we know and love-- Gucci, Dior, Fendi, DKNY, Louis Vuitton and Versace, just to name a few. The women also all carry fabulous designer handbags and wear the latest Jackie-O-style shades.

The men wear white ankle-length robes that look like long shirts (really they're just long white dresses), called thobes. The head-dress is a large square-shaped cloth typically made of cotton called a ghutra. In Qatar (unlike Saudi) the men starch their headdresses so they are very stiff and stay folded back over the iqal (the black cord that holds the ghutra in place).

Family often ask me about my clothes as they are accustomed to seeing me wear sleeveless tops and skinny jeans in Trinidad. Unlike Saudi, Qatar is more liberal with the dress-code of their expat residents. I see many foreign wives in regular western clothes-- flip-flops, tank tops and shorts out and about at malls, doing groceries etc. Many guide books will advise foreigners to dress modestly out of respect, and to avoid stares I am far more conservative than most when it comes to dressing here. I wear my normal tops and jeans from home, yes, but always under a big shawl that covers my chest and arms. Just being female will get you attention (with the male to female ratio at 2:1), so dressing modestly is far more comfortable than a pair or shorts and a lot of unwanted attention, but hey, that's just me. So in the end I dress with my big shawl, bigger handbag and even bigger shades, am approached by other arab women thinking that I am one of them, I am ushered through immigration lines and security ... not a bad trade-off for the shorts.

The men will run over a woman if she does not get out of his way (chivalry was lost in the middle ages during the crusades here, don't believe me? look it up). I am usually careful but last week I was almost knocked over at one of the clinics because I didn't see him coming... from behind me. The cultural exchanges (always few and far between) certainly add to the charm of the place.. almost makes Disney M.E. feel more authentic.

My husband married a princess and I live in a sandcastle with a spa next-door.

Come visit us in the land where dreams are made. Aren't you excited?

Doha Living

2011-01-15T08:03:00.000-08:00

The compound we are in is lovely. It's huge, with over 1,100 townhouses and apartments, though it does not feel like the cramped, over-crowded town-living of Trinidad, where neighbors can see inside each others houses or hear through the walls. The townhouses and apartment blocks look like perfect little sandcastles with moulding, and islamic filigree framing the windows and doors.

Our street is quiet and very private. There are many large playgrounds for kids, a nursery, dry-cleaning, a grocery that delivers, our very own mosque, a restaurant, cafe, huge heated pools and lounge areas, beautiful spa and two massive recreation buildings that include squash courts, tennis courts, billiards rooms, sauna, and a five star gym with state-of-the-art equipment and personal trainers. There is no getting bored while Ry is away on a flight; I have wonderful friends on the compound, and a spa and gym when I am not keeping myself busy painting.

And did I mention that the Villagio is right around the corner?

I can live with that. You ?