Mumbai

We arrived at about 5am on Friday morning, exhausted even though the flight was only 4 hours. After shuffling our way through customs and baggage claim we were herded outside where at least a hundred or more people were waiting for passengers. Some were there for family or friends but most were taxi drivers looking for a fare or waiting for a prearranged pick up, like ours. We searched out the crowd and found the half-awake driver holding up our names on a placard and silently made our way to the van. It was a wonky little van. It reminded me of the old VW buses but much more narrow. It rattled and shook as we drove along, running stoplights and winding through narrow streets, honking at any car, man, or beast that lay ahead. My husband and I quietly admired the early morning sights, the foreignness of shrines along the road, cows hunkered down in sleep on the median, men shaving or taking care of other morning business in the gutter of the street. We would motion to one another as these sights went by, whispering our amazement as though breaking the silence might disturb the already precarious driver who was trying to get us to point B. “It’s so green.” “It’s so dirty.”

After a short nap at the hotel we were on our way to explore the great city of Mumbai. We walked a few blocks down from the hotel and found Leopold Café, one of the sights of the recent terrorist attack. The window where the bullets had come through was boarded up and for the most part it was hard to tell that only a week ago this cafe had been a part of one of the deadliest attacks in India. The people seemed relaxed and at ease, even though there were police officers camped out right in front. We noshed on small plates of chicken curry and a vegetarian sandwich with potatoes and spices and gulped everything down with mango lassis.

Leopold Cafe

We continued our walk down Colaba Causeway dodging street vendors until we reached Apollo Bunder and the Gateway of India. The area right in front of the Gateway and the Taj Hotel were still roped off but it didn’t seem to deter the crowd of people from enjoying the sights off the harbor, watching the ferries to Elephanta Island, or trying to hawk postcards, personalized tourist photos and other souvenirs.

At the tip of Apollo Bunder

Hundreds of crows sat along the waterfront and wandered all over the city.

Docks and ferries to Elephanta Island.

The Taj Hotel

The Gateway of India

Giant trees like this were everywhere, the vines draped over everyone and everything.

People lighting candles in front of the Taj.

Mumbai is definitely a unique city. While, I still have much traveling to do, I’ve never even come close to experiencing anything like it. Lonely Planet describes Mumbai as such:

"Measure out: one part Hollywood; six parts traffic; a bunch of rich power-moguls; stir in half a dozen colonial relics (use big ones); pour in six heaped cups of poverty; add a smattering of swish bars and restaurants (don’t skimp on quality here for best results); equal parts of mayhem and order; as many ancient bazaars as you have lying around; a handful of Hinduism; a dash of Islam; fold in your mixture with equal parts India; throw it all in a blender on high (adding generous helpings of pollution to taste) and presto: Mumbai."

And it’s true. Anything you’re looking for, anything you’d want to experience, you can find it in Mumbai.

Most shocking for my husband and I, however, was the poverty. We’d never seen poverty like the poverty in India. Those who could manage homes, lived in shantytowns made of corrugated metal, scraps of cloth or whatever else could be found for the structure. These areas were usually rampant with garbage and animals. The poorest of the poor were even worse off; they slept on the sidewalk under the awnings of closed storefronts, entire families sprawled out as though it was one giant bed they shared that you had to step over. During the day, you couldn’t escape the beggars. Tourists were singled out and nothing we did could deter them, especially the children, they were unrelenting. The adults would turn away after a few gentle no’s but the children clung to you as though you were their only hope for food.

During one cab ride a little girl, no more than six or seven approached my window and held out a cup with one hand and gestured to her mouth with the other. It was a long traffic stop and we must’ve stayed there for at least 10 minutes during which she persisted the entire time. I noticed she had tears in her eyes but realized that she seemed to be trying to force them out especially when she wiped her cheek on the car window so that I could see the tears. Those 10 minutes had felt like hours, the sadness for this little girl and other like her still sits deep in my stomach. I didn’t give the girl any money and I’m still wrestling with that fact but there was a reason to my actions. In India, as all over the world, children are exploited as beggars. They work for an adult or small group of adults who teach these children how to look sad or needy and force them to beg. The way the girl persisted and tried to display her sadness on the car window made me think that someone had taught this girl how to beg. Someone had showed her how to cry and look as pitiful and helpless as she did, someone had showed her how to manipulate the emotions of others and this angered me. My anger wasn’t directed towards the girl but to whoever had put her out there, whoever was watching her and planning on taking her earnings at the end of the day only to give her a scrap, to whoever could take advantage of a child. I didn’t give her money because I don’t want to encourage those who take advantage of children like her but the image of her standing at my window with tears in her eyes will probably haunt me forever.

A not so casual drive to the Inland Sea

A couple of weekends ago we went camping at Khor Al Udaid, also known as the Inland Sea. It is considered one of Qatar's most awe-inspiring natural beauties. Located on the southeastern most tip of Qatar, it is an inlet of the Arabian Gulf (or Persian Gulf, depending on where your loyalties lie) that sneaks in along the Qatar-Saudi border. There are no real roads leading to the Inland Sea so 4x4 vehicles are necessary to take on the vast & treacherous dunes. We drove about 45 minutes out of Doha. We passed camel crossing signs, chemical plants, and oil refineries until we reached Sealine Beach Resort where the road ends and the dunes to Khor Al Udeid begin. They recommend that you travel in a caravan for safety; in case a car gets stuck or breaks down. Since there are no roads, the likelihood that a tow truck would happen by is pretty slim. However, we saw lots of cars that looked as though they were alone, not to mention driving at night (which I assume would be really dangerous).

We had a total of 10 people and 3 cars and we probably looked like a Nissan commercial except for the fact that we all kept getting stuck in the sand like the amateur dune drivers we are. I was pretty nervous about a group of neophytes taking on the dunes alone but what an exhilarating experience. We had a GPS and tire pumps (you let some of the air out of your tires to help with traction), cell phones, and camping supplies but I was still nervous about one of our cars doing cartwheels down a mountain of sand. We'd reach the base of a 50 foot dune (small in comparison to most) rev the engine and go pummeling through sand and rocks to get to the top. Because of the sand was so soft our 40 km/hr hustle would quickly slow down to 20 or 15 km/hr in just a matter of seconds as the sand would slip out from under the car (think of trying to run up a sand dune, exhausting right?). Even in a car supposedly made for off-roading, our car struggled to reach the apex. Often we'd get stuck and passengers would have to hop out of the car and give it a couple of heaves so the driver could back down and try it again. If you ever thought pushing a car out of snow was difficult... try soft sand where not only is the car sinking with every tired rotation but you're getting buried also and huge sand flies are constantly buzzing around, nipping at you. Once the car made it to the top, with or with out the passengers for the ride up, we'd hold our breath, grab the handy-dandy ceiling handles (who's purpose I fully understand now), brace ourselves and go barreling down the dune, which, if we were lucky, didn't gain any extra depth on the other side. (Sometimes we'd cruise up a small, agreeable dune only to find it had a 50ft drop on the other side.) There were breaks in the dunes where we'd find ourselves on a large flat, damp area. It turns out these are salt flats. Flat yes, but still a rocky ride. Especially when we'd have to speed up on them to get enough velocity going to make it over a dune.

Without a doubt the most frightening part of going up or down the dunes were the angles and not just front to back but also side to side. The car could easily be tilted 45 degrees towards the left or right. More experienced drivers will actually do this on purpose. You can see the angles that drivers have taken these dunes in the pictures below. I've been told that being a passenger in a car with a professional is equivalent to being on a roller coaster ride.

It's hard to remember exactly how tall this dune was but it was definitely intimidating enough for us to drive around.

Check out the tracks on this dune. At the top of the dune you can almost see the hood of a car that just drove over the other side.

More tracks. Not sure if the vertical ones are from someone going up or coming down.

I didn't see what made these tracks but could it be anything other than a camel?

This was the view at the top of a dune (close to the Inland Sea), once we made it up. We got stuck on the first try and had to back down and try again only to have a little panic attack because one of the check engine lights had turned on (in a brand new car). Once we got to the top and checked out the manual we discovered it was the "low tire pressure" light. D'oh!

Same inlet, but the other end where the water came in from the sea.

Khor Al Udaid

I don't think I've ever seen such a rich turquoise.

More beach. We camped in a much more secluded area than where we first arrived. Across the water is Saudi Arabia.

More tracks. This was about 15ft tall and a near 90 degree drop, yet someone rode it.

This is the part of the beach where we camped. No one else was there on the beach. There was a campsite a good 200-250 yards away on top of a dune but we could barely see them, just hear the music they blasted most of the night. 

Tire tracks filled in with the high tide.

The next morning we went for a swim and it was definitely the saltiest water I've ever been in. In fact, it was so salty you didn't really have to tread water to float; you just had to stick your arms out to the side and relax and you'd bounce around in the water like a stick. When I exhaled as much air as possible, I would sink down to my chin and when I inhaled as much air as I could, I'd pop back up out of the water to where the water only came up to about 2-3 inches below my shoulders. It kinda made me feel like a buoy. Someone mentioned that the oil companies take out large quantities of water, desalinate it to flush out their systems and put all the salt back in the sea. I'm curious to know what that does to the ecosystem although I've been told that the Gulf has a pretty rich marine life.

Because of the location of our campsite, off the beach and above the water but below several dunes, we constantly had people driving past us all night. This was one car that flew past. It wasn't as close as the others but this guy was tearing it up so we were glad he was further away.

The next morning we packed up to leave and as one couple took down their tent a little scorpion and 3 of the biggest beetles I've ever seen came skittering out. The pictures are a bit hard to see because no one wanted to get that close. It turns out it's a good thing we didn't. The scorpion in the picture above is a deathstalker, one of the only scorpions in the world who's poison can kill a human.

Interesting fact: scientists are studying the neurotoxins in deathstalkers' poison as it's believed that they can help treat brain tumors and diabetes.

I wasn't able to find out specifically what kind of beetle this is so it's been dubbed a "dune beetle."

The ride back across the dunes. You can see how the sand just seems to go on forever.

Again, not the clearest picture but those are camels in the front and a very large caravan of cars heading out to the Inland Sea and disappearing into the dunes. I tried to get some better pictures of the camels but the owner turned me away because I didn't have any money on me (all after telling me how expensive his 100 camels were).

All in all, it was definitely the most amazing experience I've had here so far. We sat around a campfire smoking shisha (a hookah filled with fruit infused tobacco) staring at stars I've never been able to see before (having always lived near big, bright cities), listening to arabic music floating down to our campsite from our neighbors across the way, and flashing our lanterns whenever a group of SUVs came whizzing through the dunes in the hopes that they'd see us and not tear through our campsite (yes they were that close).

Awww Souk-a Souk-a

We just moved into our new housing so I've been busy unpacking and settling. Moving three times in three months has killed me but it's nice to have all our stuff. Go Go Weber grill! The new place is nice but it's not cozy yet. It's two floors, four bedrooms, and three bathrooms. I'm not used to all that space. Neither is the cat. He usually hangs out upstairs during the day and when we come home, he meows at us from upstairs until we answer and then comes down once he's sure it's us. The place was already furnished when we moved in which is nice because it's already a home. The furnishings aren't quite to our taste or style but hey, it's hard to complain when most of the work has already been done for you. We have plans to make some changes but we'll get there. Right now my focus is finding a place for everything and hanging out in the pool. Hee Hee

Lately I've amused by the use of English in restaurant names but trust me, I'm not poking fun. These are the places that catch my attention and the ones I'm most interested in trying because of the names.  So far these are some of my favorites:

Tasty Buds

Hot Chicken

Tasty Bell

Unbelievably Good Chicken

Last week we hit up the souks. This is the a traditional marketplace in Doha (compared to the malls or megamarts). I was told that these have recently been rebuilt but still retain the old look. The photos didn't turn out quite as well as I would've liked. I'm still missing a tripod which would help with these night shots. But believe me, pictures just don't do it justice. Aside from the beauty of the lights, it's the smells, sound, and heat that make it so enchanting.

Here are a few pics as promised:

I liked the character of this door. It's probably not as old as it looks but the sun and sand weather things pretty quickly.

The fabric souk.

This lantern was hanging above our table at the restaurant. I meant to take a picture of the whole table but I was too busy stuffing my food hole to remember. The table had it own canopy and felt like a tent from the inside. There were tapestries on the long ends that could be lowered so we'd have more privacy. It was one of the coziest table settings I've ever experienced.

This was one of the restaurants . To be completely honest, I don't remember if this was the one we went to or not (I think it is) but the stained glass caught my eye (even if it's hard to see in this picture).

This is from (almost) the end of the street/walkway to the other. The glowing tower in the back is the Islamic Center. I have yet to check it out but it's definitely on my list.

One of the many streets/walkways (I'm not sure what they're officially called) that lead you into the smaller and much more crowded areas.

No one was around to ask why this boat was just sitting outside one of the shops, but it was still interesting.

Plastic camel for sale. Creepy huh?

This was my meal that night. It doesn't look nearly as tasty as it was. I'll have to remember to write down the names of the dishes I try but this one caught me on the menu because it was listed as a traditional Qatari dish. It was half a roasted chicken with rice, lentils and a spicy red pepper sauce. Lots of cardamom. Yum Yum.

This was at one of the restaurants along the street. Just decor but it reminded me of Mexico and guacamole... (I miss good Mexican food).

As for my take on the people here, I've decided that I need to wait until after Ramadan to make a more accurate conclusion. It's hard to get a good idea of what people are like when you take into account that they are fasting all day long. Speaking of Ramadan, there's only about six or seven days left which means I'll finally get to experience Qatar the way it is the rest of the 11 months and it'll will cool down enough to go to the beach during the day. The weather reports lately have read 104-106 degrees Fahrenheit with "widespread dust." Meaning there is a giant dust cloud hovering over us. 

And here's my final story to end today's blog:

The other day we were on our way home and I was looking out the car window admiring one of the beautiful palace-like homes. The sun was low as it was getting close to dusk but it was hazy so you could actually look at the sun without being blinded. I was imagining how that house would've looked on the inside: marble everywhere, I'm sure. All of the sudden a man in a thobe came riding past on a large white Arabian horse and headed straight for the house I'd been admiring. A thobe is the traditional male outfit. It's all white and consists of several pieces of cloth. It covers the neck, arms, torso, and all the way down to the ankles. I've seen them before in movies or some other generic setting but it wasn't until these particular 8 seconds of my life that I'd truly been able to appreciate the beauty and nobility of it; that something so simple could be so regal.

Next time I'll know to have my camera ready.

One foot in the Doha or Cat Bites and Missed Flights

It's been a long couple of months but I've finally made it to Doha. Despite all the time and energy I spent packing and getting ready for the move, I managed to miss my flight. While waiting for my sister to come help me wrap things up at the condo, I recieved a phone call from my mom. My sister's ornery cat had bitten her on the hand and my mom needed to go to the ER. The ER visit was quick but it was just enough of a wrench in my plans to throw off my whole day.

I made it to the airport with 45 minutes to take off but they wouldn't let me on check in. "Not enough time," they said. Even though I cried. Even though my cat, unhappily stuck in his little carrying case cried. Even though my poor mom with her bandaged and mangled hand was struggling to help me with my luggage. Jerks.

The next flight they could get me on was in two days. In hindsight it all worked out though. My mom ended up having to have surgery because the bite was much more severe than they originally thought and by the next morning it was seriously infected. My mom is fine and probably would've been even if I had made my original flight but general anesthesia makes me a little nervous so I'm glad I stayed.

The flight was long and painful. It doesn't matter what class you fly, there is nothing comfortable about a 14-hour flight with a cat. But the food was significantly better than anything I expected.

So now I've been here for about a week and a half and I still don't think it's sunk in that I'm here. In Qatar. In the Middle East. On the other side of the planet where I was born and raised. And that I'm going to be here for three years.

I have to say I'm surprised at how beige everything is. Aside from the fact that sand has a natural beige color, all the buildings here are the same two or three shades of beige. It makes navigating difficult because your landmarks become no-name turnabouts, Burger Kings, and petrol stations. And there's construction and sand and dust everywhere.

My biggest adventures so far have been with the grocery stores and driving. There is a fairly extensive amount of Western food available and of course a vast selection of foods that I've never heard or seen of before. Since it's a peninsula the fish selection is outstanding, but I don't recognize any of the names of the fish so I have yet to purchase any to cook at home. Not to mention, I also have to remind myself how to filet since they all come whole and it's been awhile since I've gutted a fish.

However, I have been experimenting with pistachios and dates. Mostly just trying different brands to see which I like the most. The other night, I made steak with a date-balsamic reduction sauce and mushroom-pistachio risotto. Yum! I'm definitely excited about all the experimental cooking I'll be doing here. The restaurants here are pretty good too but I think I've been spoiled living in Chicago. Even the 5-star hotel restaurants can't do it as well as some of the places back home.

Driving has probably been the most difficult adjustment. On one hand, the flow of traffic feels a little more natural. On the other hand, it's pretty nerve wracking what some people consider to be "the flow of traffic." There aren't many stoplights here, just turnarounds. When you reach and intersection you're expected to accelerate quickly into the circular flow of traffic and then cut across lanes to make your turn. Technically they only make right-hand turns here. If you want to go left at an intersection, you ride the turnaround until the third "exit" and cut off two to three lanes of traffic to make your right turn.

On top of this crazy and accident-prone traffic style, people are incredibly impatient on the road. Flashing lights and horns are expected if you're moving too slow (even if you're going above the limit), not jumping into the turnaround when the person behind you wants you to, or even if you've pissed someone off several miles back. The other night we had someone swerve and brake in front of our car because we hadn't switched lanes quickly enough for him.

Overall I'm still deciding how I feel about the people here. Some are wonderfully friendly and helpful and others are pushy and lazy. The government of Qatar provides housing, healthcare, and living expenses to all Qataris and I believe they also receive an allowance so no one really has to work.

I went to the police station today to get fingerprinted for my residency and the female police officers turned me down because they were watching a soap opera! When I went to the men's building, the male police officers were surprised, "Why are they closed? We're supposed to stay open for another hour?" Sheesh, you're telling me!

Quick note: Right now Muslims are celebrating Ramadan. This means no eating, drinking, or smoking from sunrise to sunset and most businesses carry Ramadan hours: 7:30am-1pm and 7:30pm-11pm. I'm still learning about Ramadan so as I figure out more I'll pass it along. Tonight I may go to a Ramadan tent. I have no idea what that means but I'll be sure to find out. I'll also try to get some photos uploaded. Cheers for now!