By Jody Beth Lee - daughter of Dave Lee, |
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I never travelled much in my life. Quite content with safe and secure Newfoundland, I felt much desire to explore, but not enough to leave. Most people are shocked when they discover where I have been living for the past two years and often their initial response is - why? Why is a simple question to answer on the surface.
The total flying time of our trip was approximately 15 hours, not including airport lounging and luggage dodging. We arrived in an airport on a warm November evening, our passports in one hand and a bundle of forms, printed in Arabic, in the other. Surrounded by yelling police officers pointing us in different directions and speaking a language that sounded much like gibberish, we were beyond confusion. It was a very intimidating moment, and unlike the uncomplicated airport of St. John's where everyone was on the same page, this was for us a very uneasy situation. We were foreigners in a new country surrounded by people I had only understood through my television screen. It was at this moment that something that had confused me for so long now made perfect sense; they were as wary of us as we were of them. The problem of disputes between cultures is the simple fact that we judge before we see, and now I could see. The airports and taxis were an immediate sign of the language barrier we were about to face. Although English is widely spoken in Qatar, there is a small population of residents who do not understand the language. It is at this point when hand gestures and facial expressions take a great role in communication between you and your new conversationalist. After a year or so we soon mastered this aspect of our new home, using keywords to speak and understand our new friends. "Shokran", a word used often that means "Thank you," is one that is universally appreciated, along with "Kaifa Haloka", meaning, "How are you?" Being used to having no trouble in having a simple conversation with my friends back home, a simple joke which was returned by a laugh was a great accomplishment. Even with my own friends from school, who come from all over the world, there are certain borders. Because our group consists of people of different countries: Norway, Holland, Australia and Saudi Arabia, there are some jokes we will never understand from each other. Instead we laugh at our individual differences and listen intently to try and understand, as well as appreciate, each other’s world. My new world was not the rugged terrain I had pictured in my mind. For example the sand dunes, endless miles upon miles of sand mixed and swirled into something only found in Arabian dreams; add an enormous sun to the backdrop, its circular border clearly defined in the brilliant warm coloured sky - this is a sunset in the Middle East. Camels roam the landscape freely, and much like our moose warning signs, camel crossings line the roadways on the outskirts of town. The beauty of the city lies within its architecture - a juxtaposition of the new world and the old Arabic style, thus adding greatly to the character of this newly developed country. But its natural beauty is not the only sight worth seeing. The souqs are also an entirely different world. These are the markets, where a monkey can be sold for 3,000 riyals and the boldest and most extravagant golden jewellery in the world hangs in the windows. Instead of the latest western fashions, you will see abiyas and thobes, the traditional clothing of the area. A scent unlike any other thrives throughout this area of town. Stands line the streets, where Schwarmas, somewhat like tortilla wraps, can be purchased along with juice or Arabic coffee. Whilst walking, each smell mixes with the next, creating an aroma only found in the souq area of Qatar. The incense and perfume stores which run up and down the alleys are filled with bottles of strong and sweet Arabic perfumes. Then there are my favourite stores, the ones that smell of a mustiness of old, selling Middle Eastern crafts such as secret boxes and carved statues of monkeys and men, and woven rugs and pillows and seats of geometrical reds, greens and blacks. My favourite aspect of the area is its bright entrepreneurs. You ask the price of a certain item, and then you ask for its "best" price. The value of an item is never definite here, and it is welcomed to barter with the salesman as long as you please, as long as you don't walk away empty handed. It is only here that you can barter for a watch at a starting price of 100 riyals and work your way down to 20 riyals. My first ever experience at the souqs was quite adventurous. I was attempting to barter for a set of bracelets. The starting price - 30 riyals. But unwilling to pay that price, and in a hurry to catch up with my family further down the road, I said no thank you and attempted to leave. The man quickly stopped me, unwrapped the bracelets and smacked them off the ground as hard as he possibly could, declaring proudly "look, strong, worth money!" I eventually bought the bracelets for 15 riyals, paying mostly for the good laugh I'd received. The religion, I will never be able to explain, for fear of mixing my own beliefs and ideas into it. However, I can describe to you the devotion that I have seen from the people to their faith that follows them wherever they go. Our first morning in Qatar, the windows of our hotel were open, introducing my ears to their call to prayer. Like the Christian church plays music on Sunday morning, the prayer is echoed throughout the entire city, and is what I can only describe as an eerie peacefulness. A priest chants the beliefs of the Holy Qu'ran while the city falls into a silent spell. No matter what these people are doing, there is always time to stop and pray for the religion on which they base their lives. And unlike, for example, the Christian faith, this ritual is not practiced once a week, but rather five times a day, the first beginning at daybreak. In public places such as malls, schools and restaurants there are designated prayer rooms. The call to prayer does not stop at being amplified out of each mosque, but is also played on the radio, just in case you happen to be driving. The dedication that is served by these people to their religion is overwhelming and I cannot help but feel lost when I see so many who know exactly for what they are praying and living. The friends I have met during my stay in Qatar will be the ones I meet up with in some 20 years in an exotic place somewhere in the world. I have only known them for a year, yet it feels as though it has been an eternity. I go to an international school, and so I am not only able to meet the locals, but also those from other parts of the globe; such as a girl from Holland, who brought me to her home in Amsterdam during spring break; then there are the Norwegians, and even a girl from Labrador, which hits a little closer to home. A Qatari girl named Fatma Al Khater is a person unlike any I've ever met. The differences in our lives would make anyone think it would do nothing more than drive us apart. The fact is that if you give people a chance, you can have the best conversations of your life; the ones you'll take with you for years to come. Those are the conversations I've had with not only Fatma, but with all of the other people I've met. Moving to a new world opens your eyes, but being introduced to wonderful people from many new worlds opens your curiosity and a need to see the entire world. It is almost impossible to explain not only the differences, but also the knowledge and emotions that come with each new experience. I have had some great times and look forward to the year ahead and the new people I will meet. Each sunset is a new experience that I will never forget or take for granted. |
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My father was offered a job in Doha, Qatar,
in the Middle East two years ago when I was
15 years old. Now trying to explain why I
agreed to go is much more difficult. For those
of you who were once teenagers I'm sure
you're aware that even the slightest change
can upset your entire lifestyle during this
time. Now imagine that you've moved to a
place where every detail is turned completely
upside down, where even your own beliefs are
put into question. My answer to the question
of why I moved to Doha is impossible to
explain. And what I will attempt to explain to
you of my new home will never justify the
effect of the culture and people on me. My
experiences cannot be served justice through
a mere photograph or a simple story. I have
learned that in order to fully see another
world, you must experience it, and to appreciate
your own world, you must understand that
of others.
