My class

J. seems to be working all the time! He has 45 students in his research class and they stop in and email him a lot. He has the only english class in research. All the others are arabic. Many do not have good english skills, so J. is constantly looking for ways to make the concepts simple and understandable. I think if I was a student, I would want to take J.'s class. He is doing all the work for them! Besides teaching, J gives workshops. He gave several to the "master teachers" and next Monday he begins a series for the local independent school teachers. He is also scheduled to speak at a huge education conference later in March. He was also asked to be on a select committee of professors here that mostly teach at the graduate school level- so he feels fortunate to be able to participate that way also. I am having a somewhat different experience. I still have no ID for the university, am not officially on the payroll and share a desk with my co-teacher. Yesterday I got a key to her office, so that is a step in the right direction. I will complete my 2nd week of teaching tomorrow. As I mentioned before, I co-teach 2 classes (clinic courses) on domestic violence in the law school. With all the adding and dropping done, I believe the final count is 19 women and 7 men. Phenomenal considering the entire law school has 250 students, 200 of which are women and 50 of which are men. This course has never been offered before in Qatar nor in any law school in the arab gulf. The subject is very sensitive. The method (a clinical course) has never been tried before. Very, very few studies have been done in the area of domestic violence and there are few resources for help for abused women. Next week I have an appointment to meet some professionals who work with abused women here. At least, I believe I will be allowed to meet with them. My class is hoping they will agree to come to class and talk to the students about services and answer some of their questions. I will be getting the classes ready for their visit! This is all a maybe, because this is not a topic for general discussion and I am not sure what those who work in the field even think about the subject. I really love my students! After a day in class I am exhausted, but I come home with a smile on my face. These young men and women are the future of this country and they are eager to learn for the most part. There are barriers to education that do not exist in the United States. The barriers are economic, social, cultural and religious ---- but that topic is for another day and another time. I am learning and reading like crazy on the subject. I am trying to be creative on how to present this clinical course. Creativity is not my strong point, but I am trying. I can be very passionate when I speak and I start walking around and using my hands to talk. Some of the women get a real kick out of me when I get like that. When I see their reactions, I usually calm down a bit and realize I have gotten out of hand! I may have told you that there are no women profesors at the law school. And few women lawyers. Professional women role models are just not available in any quantity here. So, I have an awesome responsibility. I am amazed at how the students dress for class. White robes and headscarfs for the men and beautiful black abiyas for the women. Coach purses or Coach brief cases and designer shoes. I wasn't really prepared to do much here other than be a "housewife". the designation I was given on my visa. So, I have 2 outfits that I switch off, a pair of sensible black shoes, an informal over the shoulder LLBean bag, and a grocery bag in which I carry my class material. (I can hear from children all the way over here. "Oh, mom, your are not carrying that LLBean bag!") . If I don't get my driver's license by tomorrow, I may also be walking to class. The students either have their own SUVs or they have drivers that bring them to class with maids that ride along and hand them their notebook and writing material. I really hadn't thought about the contrast until I sat down to write this blog entry. But, as the first 2 weeks have unfolded, I am so encouraged. It is natural for me to stick my foot in my mouth --- and I have done that here already --- several times. But, I truly respect the students and I believe they respect me. I have so much to learn from them in these classes. The goal is for me to teach them something also. Let's hope I succeed ---- at least, a little bit.

A near miss and a wedding

We live around some amazing, interesting and guenuinely caring people. Most are post doctoral students and they are from all over the middle east, southeast Asia, and Europe. Our immediate neighbors are from Bulgaria and India. Upstairs, there is a couple from Malaysia. Recently we tried to obtain our driver's license and were accompanied by a young man from Egypt. His name is Ahmed. He lived clear accross Doha from us and was desparately wanting to move to our area so he could have easy access to the university. This week, J. has met him each morning as he waited for the university driver. He is now our neighbor! Last evening, we met him at the grocery store. We walk to the local grocery store just about every evening. He was with a Lebanese friend (WaEl), also a neighbor of ours. They offered us a ride. At first we refused since we don't mind walking at all. However, on the way home, they stopped again and offered us a ride and also offered to take us to the local mall to pick up tickets we had been wanting to get. On the way home, a cement truck pulled out directly in front of WaEl. A remarkably quick reaction, no oncoming traffic, and by the grace of God, an accident was avoided. Afterwards there was a great deal of talk and WaEl translated the arabic for us after we dropped off Ahmed. Basically, both young men discussed the fact that problems often seem insurmountable until something like this happens ---- and by God's grace we are reminded how insignificant are our problems and how great the power of God. And together we all thanked God for averting this near disaster. It was an amazing and touching moment. I know I will never forget it. It is times like this that I wonder why we continue to believe that such differences separate us. No doubt, it is often our misunderstanding and our unwillingness to make friends of those that seem so different. Within a couple hours after our near disaster, I was on my way to my first (and probably only) Qatari wedding. It is a women's only affair. I believe you would call me a wedding crasher, but it was amazing and wonderful! Two of the women I met at the law school let me go with them. They are both Americans and know the groom. He is a professor in the law school. It was spectacular! We arrived at the Sheraton on the Gulf at about 8:30PM. After being checked (all cell phones with cameras and cameras were taken away), we were allowed into a back huge ballroom filled with about 400 women. Tables of 10 were set up with flowers everywhere with a stage in the middle. A live instrumental musician was performing and professional cameras on moving swing appendages were videoing the entire evening. I was told this musian is paid 15,000 riyals for the evening. On top of that, women were throwing money on the stage which is an expression of happiness with the music. A maid was picking up the money to give to the musician. Women in spectacular dresses (not black abiyas!) were dancing on the stage and some older women were watching from seats set up along the stage. The younger girls were being observed and watched closely. These are the prospective daughter in laws! Along one end and in the corner of the ballroom, the maids sat in a row. From the moment we arrived until we left after 11PM, we were waited on by asian black suited waitresses or by lovely dark skinned young women dressed in white dresses and beautiful white head scarves. The women in black served food and the women in white served drinks. The food was delicious. After appetizers, we had chocolates. After salads and dips, we had chocolates. After dinner, we had chocolates. After dessert, we had chocolates. I thought I was in heaven. The bride arrived around 10PM and very slowly walked down the center stage to a large white couch where she was greeted by family and friends. She wore a long white dress and long white veil. Glamorous! Money was also thrown on the bride's head. Again, this money was for the musician and showed how happy the giver was. I watched and ate and wished I had a camera. The woman sitting next to me explained what was going on. The couple had actually been married a couple months before, but had to live separately until tonight. There was a men's only party the night before as well as a henna party for the women the night before. This meal and extravaganza was the finale! We did not stay until the groom arrived. That was still a good hour off! The lovely dresses worn in the evening are only worn once. They are given to charity afterwards. No one wears the dress they wore to a wedding a second time. I am thinking I should adopt that practice too. But, I would have to be rich. Perhaps in my second life! Luckily, I had a long black dress to wear - the one I will be wearing to my nieces' weddings in April. Yes, I will be wearing the same dress to both weddings. I got home and couldn't sleep for hours. I had too much caffeine. Serves me right!

Neighborhood happenings and a new recipe

I believe I have already said this. I love the neighborhood we live in. It is full of activity, diverse, safe, walkable, and how I have some friends. Well, I don't know if they are friends, but we greet each other and wave. Since we don't speak the same language, I guess it's hard to exchange more than that! Qataris live behind walled houses, so the people I meet in the neighborhood (outside of our immediate apartments inhabited by people connected with the university) are mostly Indian, from Sri Lanka, Iraq or Pakistan. Men make up the entire working, foreign population in the construction industry. They literally construct their own dwellings where they work. So, as a house is being built in the neighborhood, you will find a nearby shed or tent to house several workers. You know they live there because shoes line the entrance and laundry is hanging nearby. Since I run each morning, they know to look for me. Now they stop working and sometimes yell, but usually they just wave or watch ---- their break, I think! There is a man that I meet running each morning. He is about my age and has a running suit on. We wave to each other each morning. Yesterday, I saw him in the distance running toward me and decided I would introduce myself. Luckily, I saw him at quite a distance since I had to gradually slow down from the rapid pace I was running and I needed quite a distance to do that. Ha! It turns out he is the Romanian ambassador and lives just a block away in our neighborhood. He speaks great English and commented that he likes the neighborhood too since in Romania, Iraq and Saudi Arabia he had no place to run in the neighborhood. We spend little time on cooking here. But, in a crazy burst of energy and the comment "we're not having this again!?", we decided to buy 2 chickens and some masala seasonings. Seemed pretty simple. We love masala and often order it in the Indian restaurants. However, there were no directions on the pachage. We both have healthy appetites, are not picky about food and we each have advanced degrees in our respective fields. We boiled the chicken and sauteed onion in olive oil and dumped in the masala seasoning. Great masala smell! It was the taste that almost killed us. Our tongues and stomachs quickly burned with just a few bites. It reminded me of the time I ordered vindaloo chicken with Emily at an Indian restaurant and I thought I was dying it was so hot! Or, the time Jonathan made chili and thought 8 cloves of garlic meant 8 chunks. The difference is that Jonathan had the sense to throw his chili out. We ate our dish! We remembered that yogurt cuts the taste. We had a kilo of yogurt in the refrigerator. Even that was barely sufficient to ease the pain. We tried straining the food and washing it with water. Still no luck. Hunger convinced us it was not really that bad. So, it's gone now. Thank goodness. No, we will not be posting this recipe or making it for guests. I doubt we will have masala for a while either. Even if we do know the correct proportions! Friends invited us to their apartment tonight. We gladly accepted. I just hope they don't serve masala chicken.

What did I get myself into!

I told you I got a job. Well, nothing is simple. One class, 3 times a week, 20 women. Sounds pretty good. Well, the men somehow were offered this class also and 17 showed up. So, I am now co-teaching 2 classes: one with all women and one with all men. That is logical and normal here. Men and women do not have classes together. They are not even allowed in the same physical space in the law school and they eat in separate cafeterias. So, I was quickly "recruited" to teach the men's section also. Now for the good part. This is the first time domestic violence is being taught at the law school. Come to find out, this is the first time any gulf arab country has offered a domestic violence course period. It is a clinic course --- also the first of it's kind. My co-teacher is thrilled, is calling the press and is ready to go on arab television about this ground breaking event. I was trying to stay out of trouble!!! Well, I explained the semester project to both classes today. I am really excited about what I came up with for a project. I think it will be "fun", educational and innovative. Some of the students reacted with a bright gleam in their eyes. Others looked terrified. I will not doubt if 1/2 the students drop the class! Which won't be all that bad, since we feel the class is about double the size it should be for effectively teach this subject in this way. So, the students will be real pioneers. Along with their teacher --- who did not know she was going to be a pioneer. So, if you see me on AlJazeer (the arab television that you all watch), it will not be because I joined any protests, but because I stumbled into an opportunity that is rather novel ---- and controversial. Now I realize that controversy is my profession----but my plan was to relax a bit and just enjoy it here. But obviously, some of us just can't seem to avoid controvery. I must be one of those. But the alternative seemed to be to sit by the pool, wait until J. got home, fix meals, clean the apartment, read books, take walks, ....... you know, normal things. So, what did I get myself into? Meals are just like at home (what are we eating tonight?), the apartment needs dusting and cleaning. I am up early so I can run and exercise. I study the topic of domestic violence and prepare for class during the hours I am not teaching. I'm meeting some interesting people, I am engaged in a new job and a new dimension of law. I'm a bit rushed and the days just fly by. I shake my head a lot and remind myself that I could be sitting by the pool outside our apartment. But, then again, I get sunburned easily! All in all ----- I don't really regret it so far. I will let you know if I eventually eat my words!

Camel races

Well, a new adventure. Qatar Foundation sponsored yesterday's camel races. Apparently camels are rich boys "toys" here. Betting is not legal, but apparently different groups sponsor a prize for the fastest camel. The camels that race are rather small and very lean - like a runner. Seeing the camels reminds me why I am running each morning since I arrived in Doha - I have this illusion that I will get lean if I run. It hasn't happened so far, but maybe that's because (unlike the camels) I am not being whipped as I run! Back to the camels. We arrived just in time to see about a hundred camels basking in the sun and resting for the big races. There were European looking people walking around the camels admiring them, so the group we were with (fellow foreigners from our compound) did the same. The camels appeared quite tame until one decided to jump on the back of another camel near us and 5 camel trainers with whips separated them. Camels don't line up nicely at the starting line. Rather, they are "let loose" at the starting line and take off. Mounted on each camels back is a box like devise with a plastic whip that is operated like a remote control car. Which means that the "boys" that own the camels ride in SUV's along the track and operate the machines. To get the camels to go faster, they have to be whipped by activating the "jockey in a box" (my term). For the first race, we piled in a bus and rode along side the camels as they raced. The track is really long and by the time the camels reach the finish line, they are exhausted (or, I am exhausted watching them run in the sun and heat). For the second race, we watched them start and then headed to the finish line on foot. While waiting, we were offered the chance to ride on a camel! Of course, I declined. Not quite. I couldn't wait to get on ----although I almost didn't make it. It's not like a horse or a donkey. Camels kneel down and then they straighten their back legs first, which means you fly forward. The front legs come next and you are jolted upright. Getting off, the camel starts by lowering his front legs first so you are jolted forward and then back again. Needless to say, I screamed (similar to what I do when I ride a roller coaster!) which caused the camel handlers to steady me, laugh, and thankfully move on to the next person that dared try a ride. Actually riding a camel is also not "normal" or comfortable. It's rather jerky and gives you the sensation that you will fall any minute. I decided not to volunteer to train as a camel jockey. If I reconsider tomorrow, I am sure they will accept me. But rather than a jockey, I will be the camel feeder. The story is that 4 year old boys used to be the jockeys until that was outlawed. Don't ask me where they got the 4 year olds. You don't want to know and you can read about it. Needless to say, I am glad they use remote control jockey boxes, even though it seems rather inhumane. Back to the races ---- I was so tramatized by the camel ride that I missed the end of the race. There were only 2 races, but in the sun and heat, that was enough. Returning to Doha, we all decided to eat Turkish food at a restaurant along the Persian Gulf. By then, there was a cool breeze and the sun was setting. Perfect weather for me --- but chilly for our friends from China and the US (one from Arkansas and one Iraqi from the Woodlands in Texas!) The guy from Russia was comfortable --- but he was visiting from the Netherlands! I forgot to say that J. declined a ride on the camel. However, after seeing me, he reconsidered. So, we have pictures of both of us at the races and on camels. The smiles are fear smiles, not real smiles. In Jacksonville we have stock car races ---- in Doha, it's camel races. Very little similarity. But, that's not true either! I will leave the rest to your imagination.

J. survived and I have a job!

It's been 3 days since I last blogged. As far as I can tell, J. has suffered no ill effects from the fruit and he is still eating it. I have noticed that his last 2 workshops have gone exceptionally well and he seems to be coming up with new ideas on how to help the trainers. This has all ocurred in the last 3 days since he ate this fruit. I am now thinking that perhaps I should be eating it also. In the meantime, my mom has written me and is now worried. Stop worrying, mom. Unless this fruit is slow acting, I think the danger is past. I have now shed my "trailing spouse" status! It's not a huge job, nor a full-time job but I am excited about it. My job prospects have been touch and go ever since we arrived. Mostly I have been told that it could easily take a year to get a job. Well, I don't have a year. I have 5 months! When I expressed my willingness to work, I have been asked if I can type and how technologically proficient I am. I know this will bring a smile to many of you who are reading this. I have not extolled my computer skills and decided I was better off unemployed than getting fired. Besides that, I wasn't sure it was worth giving up my housewife status for a job I would find far outside my abilities! So, I persisted and kept thinking that perhaps I could be an exception to the rule. Although I am still not sure how this all happened, but somehow things did work out. You will be glad to know that my computer skills are not going to be very important in my job. Instead, I have been hired to co-teach a clinical course on domestic violence at the only law school in Qatar - Qatar University, College of Law. My first class begins Sunday. I am also helping prepare the moot court team for competition in the Middle East and in England. I started that today. More may develop, but so far, that's it. All I can say is at least I am not teaching an income tax class. I couldn't even fake my way through that class. It's been an interesting process. I wrote my own contract and was prepared to present it to the Dean of the Law School when I received a call that the American Bar Association was prepared to pay me. No quibbling, no argument, no need to negotiate. All things I was prepared to do. So, now the hard part begins. I have to learn what I am going to teach. Tomorrow I meet with the person who will co-teach the course with me and we will draft the syllabus. Did I mention that there are no female professors in the law school? Well, that was confirmed today. There was one, but she was fired. There are 25 male professors in the law school. Last week, it was decreed that beginning in the fall of 2012, all classes in the law school will be taught in Arabic only. Needless to say, I am brushing up on my Arabic. There is nothing I can do about my gender. Well, I have only given you the highlights. You will have to be satisfied with that.

Vegetables and Fruits

Today we were driven to the outdoor market on the opposite end of Doha from where we live. Believe it or not, I have lived here long enough (one month!) that I can comparison shop a bit. I love to bargain and I love to watch how good the sellers are at their trade. In the end, it doesn't matter one way or the other to me. If they smile at the end, I am likely to buy no matter what the price! The game is just fun. I don't really enjoy grocery shopping at home much. Here, it is actually interesting. Since we are still walking most places, we still shop locally, which means AlMeera - not where Americans do their shopping! Clearly, Americans shop at LuLu, Carrefour and a place called Spinneys. We have walked those aisles also, but we tend to look like everyone else. At AlMeera and this outdoor market, we are "special". That means we stick out like sore thumbs. What is interesting is not the prices and the bargaining, but the places where the fruits and vegetables originate. There are oranges from Pakistan, apples from China and New Zealand, bananas from the Phillipines, dates from Saudi Arabia, something that resembles apricots from India, some variety of oranges from Egypt, a special type of apple from France, and other vegetables from Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, Iran. The olive oil we buy comes from Saudi Arabia as does our jam and oats. We buy fresh lebanese yogurt and rice from Dubai. And the tea is Lipton! (I guess I wondered off the fruits and vegetables a bit!) At the end of our shopping trips we stand in line for our 5 pieces of freshly baked bread - lebanese style. That's my favorite part of the shopping trip. Again, I have digressed. Today I watched a man clean the small fish that is dried and bagged. He was back behind boxes and other goods, hidden from the public. I will tell you why. He was dirty and barefoot and was cleaning the fish on the pavement. I managed to snap a picture - to remind myself never, ever to buy dried fish in clear cellophane bags. There were also other food items being sold in cellophane bags that were not fish. After what I saw today, I won't buy that food either. In fact, I thought about buying some cinnamon sticks to boil on the stove and give the apartment a fresh aroma. That was also sold near where the man was cleaning the fish. I decided against buying that after seeing the man clean the fish. So, was it bad? Yes!!!!! J. decided to buy a bag of fresh fruit at a stall far away from this man that cleaned and dried the fish. We have no idea what the fruit is. I encouraged him to buy the fruit, but I am not eating it. I did not tell him about the man with the fish. I will let you know if J. lives to tell about it. I have decided to wait 3 days before I eat the fruit. Three seems like a safe number to me. I think food poisoning would set in by that time. Tonight when he was eating the fruit I just said I was full. After thinking about the man and the fish, I really was full. The hotels in Doha put on a food tasting at the local exhibition hall parking lot. It's like "Taste of Chicago". The cuisine is all middle eastern. Four of us went and we all tried different foods. I tried Persian, Indian and Lebanese food. To top it off, I saw a dessert that looked like chocolate mousse. Looks are deceiving. It was not chocolate and it was not mousse! Like the dried fish in cellophane bags ---- I won't be eating that again.

Roundabouts and bouts around

The British have left their mark here. Roundabouts are all over. Mind you, we still have no drivers licenses so walking is our mode of transportation. Roundabouts are a hazard to walkers. Other than a very few brave (and crazy) foreign construction workers, I have yet to see a Qatari cross a roundabout walking. Probably because it means crossing 4 lanes of nonstop traffic. The driving is crazy here, but nothing like Cairo. So, in comparison, I guess it it's OK. Having never driven here, I can say the walking is, shall I say, interesting? We started out walking to "The Pearl" yesterday afternoon around 4:30. We arrived home by 10:30 - having walked most of that time. You see things walking you would never see driving. Again, we haven't driven, so you must be wondering how I can say that. When you don't have a choice you say things after you have survived them, hoping that you can recognize the merit in what you have just experienced. The walk was fascinating and quite nice actually --- until we failed to find a taxi to drive us home. Those last 2 miles were a killer. We googled a walking route to try to avoid some of the busy roads. That route took us though a new compound we have never walked. Compounds are just neighborhoods and tend to be quiet and pretty devoid of traffic. This compound had an independent school, several homes to diplomats (the flags flying and signs on the entry gates gave us the identity, and variety of homes we hadn't seen before. After crossing a bridge and walking along a beautifully lit entry road, we entered "The Pearl". We had been driven to the Pearl a couple times by friends and frankly wondered why we were taken there. Nice, well lit streets, but nothing much. There just had to be more to merit such enthusiasm by those that took the time to drive us there. Well, we found out. You can't drive to or on what we saw ---- you must walk! Behind the buildings and the streets is a boat harbour shaped like a "C". The boats docked along the harbour are magnificent. Rarely do even the yachts docked in Chicago rival these yachts. All along the "C" are shops and restaurants. Not "Gap" or the "normal" stores. But stores I have never heard of. One of a kind stores. Very few people were shopping or even walking. There was only one employee in each store. The wares were beautifully displayed in well lit areas with floor to ceiling glass separating the stores from the walking mall or outdoor area. I almost felt sorry for the store owners, wondering how they could make a living! Perhaps I should buy something to help keep them open. Then I remembered I walked here and, as yet, I have no job. They can afford to rent space in "The Pearl" and perhaps those yachts belong to them! I made J. promise we would return soon and eat along the harbour - but not this time. My feet were killing me! Another brilliant idea occurred to me. Katara was not far from "The Pearl" and Katara had some great restaurants, not too pricey. We could just walk there and take a cab home! J's response was, "Sure, Barbara. Lead the way. Are you sure you know where you are going?" Confidently, I set off leading the way. Several cabs stopped to offer us a ride. Confident Katara was just down the road a bit, we refused. Several miles later, we arrived! That wasn't so bad! The barriers to walking are amazing. I will never complain about construction in America. It is nothing ompared to construction here! Lebanese/Armenian food tempted us, so with aching feet we sat down----finally! If you are wondering if I have lost weight with all the walking and running --- the answer is "no". It's the food I eat. The cheese and rich food more than make up for the exercise, although we are holding our own, I think. As I said in the beginning, where is a taxi when you need one. We gave up looking after the meal, so walked the 2 miles home. Three advil did the trick -- and a cup of tea, a warm bath and a bed! Suffice it to say, that the details of our everyday living are not much different than what I described above. More walking, new sights, food, a cup of tea. Everyday I am itching to take a new route and see new things. I think J. will be relieved if I can find a job!!! My enthusasm is wearing us both out and crossing these roundabouts is hazardous to our health and somewhat dangerous. We are so excited when a large crossing is controlled by a traffic light! Such simple pleasures make us happy! But even that can be tricky. I was not looking forward to driving here ---- but, perhaps it won't be so bad. It may beat walking.

Life in monochrome

Remember how colorful our walls were in the 70's? We painted one wall red in our living room in Fairview Park. Than we moved on to more subtle colors, with yellow in the kitchen, green in the sun room, a light pink in the bathroom. Our recently remodeled kitchen in Jacksonville and our condo in Chicago are shades of brown and white with hints of gray. Monochrome. Well, when I sent some neighborhood compound pictures to my family last evening, my sister Beth remarked the buildings were almost monochrome. Not what she expected after life in Africa with all it's various color. She's right! No wonder I find it rather soothing here. Yes, I have come to actually love the neighborhood we live in and I run in each morning.

I don't know that I can add my pictures to this blog, but if I can, I will. Monochrome is a good description. Shades of white, brown and gray --- the colors of the desert. Duh! That's where we live now and I have just come to expect it. Funny how I constantly marvel at the building that is going on around me. The piles of rocks and sand are only temporary since I know tomorrow the piles will be moved and progress will be made on the "palace" next door or on the next block. In a month, I have not tired of walking around this compound each morning and evening. The work men never rest and I am always curious what new place they have made on the premises they call "home" while they build in this compound. Normally, it is just a cement block structure with no electricity and no windows. I know they live there because their shoes neatly line the doorway and sometimes there are clothes hanging outside.

In contrast, the surroundings we live in are huge homes with winding staircases and floor to ceiling windows. I marvel at the progress and the lack of safety equipment used to protect the workers. Do they have workers compensation here? I rather doubt it resembles what we have. Probably, it is called deportation and a one way ticket home. Life in the desert.

So, where is the color? Underneath, I suspect. In the Souq, colorful clothes are sold and the shoes on the women I see walking around in black covered from head to foot betray the colorful
life that is hidden from public view. So far, I have only seen glimpses. I will pay more attention!

Well, I tried to upload some pictures from Kodak and I failed. As you know, I am computer challenged. Although I have learned a lot from trial and error and a lack of support help here (Sandy and Diana!!!!), I can't seem to figure out how to transfer my photos! If someone wants to help, I could use the advise.

I failed, but somehow passed

No doubt you are all anxious about my fingerprints. I faithfully applied vaseline to my fingers and palms day and night for 10 days. Confidently, I was driven to the police station, this time sure I would pass the fingerprint test. The groove lines seemed to be distinct this time save for the tips of my fingers and the middle of my palms, but I was sure that did not matter. Two technicians worked with me and at the end, the technician smiled. Smiling means you passed - right? So, I went to the receptionist - the man who gave me the bad news last time and remembered me this time around!-- and he began to explain that I would have to return next week and try again. This time I should bring my husband. Oh, my gosh, I thought. How could this be? I told him that I was sure he was mistaken. I was sure I had passed. He had me identify the technician who then printed out my fingerprints --- which again, I thought, meant I had passed. Alas, no, that's not what it meant. Instead, I think he decided that delaying everything another week just meant he would have to deal with me again and disppointing me a third time must not have seemed worth the trouble. The receptionist took the fingerprints and told me to follow him. I was ushered into another room with 3 men that spoke loudly and were in police uniforms. One asked me questions and told me to sit down and he put something in the computer. Finally, he asked me where I was working at the University. Stretching matters a bit, I told him the law school. He said he knew the Dean. With that he smiled, ripped up my fingerprints and told me that I passed. I returned to the receptionist to thank him. Instead, he told me to wait until he double checked on me. Then he entered something in the computer, smiled and told me "All done".

I celebrated by having my driver drop me off at Villagio - a huge Qatar mall. Doha was experiencing a huge dust storm at the time, so visibility was almost nothing. I decided walking a mall was just what I needed. This mall is amazing. There is a full ice skaking rink, an amusement park at one end (indoors) and boat rides available down the middle canal that runs thru the mall. The disappointment is that most shops are American shops or British or European shops. After lapping it a couple times, I took a cab home - glad I at least saw it!

The real celebration came in the evening when a friend took us to Katara along the Persian Gulf, not far from where we live. This is a new development with a walkway along the beach, a huge outdoor amphitheatre, unique artistic shops with handmade jewelry, clothes, and rugs as well as a wonderful book shop with arabic and english travel and art books. There are some first class restaurants along the beach - Turkish, Lebanese, seafood, Egyptian, Indian. We chose the Turkish and had a delightful meal served in a setting that was lovely with traditionally dressed staff. We tried 4 different cold dishes to share - salad, a yogurt spread, a potato based salad with the most delicious warm bread I have tasted! The main dish was chicken and lamb. We splurged on this meal, but it was worth it. We will no doubt return and try another restaurant ---- or decide we really like Turkish food!

I find myself at the univesity this morning. I had a lovely long conversation with the ABA sponsored representative at Qatar University. I agreed to co-teach a clinic at the law school on Domestic Violence. More on that later. I have some work to do! There are 25 professors at the law school. All 25 are men. So, I wonder how I will fit in? That question is yet to be answered.