Weddings in the Arab world are markedly different from ours.
Arabs don't really have a church wedding; legally, all that is required is a willing groom, a willing bride, and a couple of people to testify that the couple married each other. For several days before the wedding, the bride's and groom's families string white lights all over their houses as an expression of their joy, and the women often have henna artwork painted on their hands, arms, and sometimes their feet, in honor of the special occasion.
A typical wedding ceremony consists of two separate parties, one behind closed doors for the women, and the other outdoors in a tent/arena setup for the men. The groom sits in the middle of the tent, with close family members sitting nearest to him, and other (male) guests seated progressively farther away from him on either side. They are entertained by men with drums and other instruments performing traditional Arabic wedding-type chants and dances in a small arena area in front of the tent. The entire arena is surrounded by couches, known as "majelis" when they are used for sitting around and talking with friends. Afterwards, they have a big buffet dinner.
The women apparently have what amounts to a big social, maybe with some dancing, but all in private so they can doff their abayas and shailas and show off their fashions. Mobile phones have become taboo at these events, since so many of them nowadays have built-in cameras and most of the women are very camera-shy. Taking a woman's picture without the consent of the woman herself, and her husband or father, is a big no-no.
After the wedding parties, apparently the couple meets up back at their house and starts their life together. The process of courtship and the family involvement in the marriage is a long and interesting story in itself, about which I am in the process of learning. Once I get a handle on it, I'll blog it, inshallah.
Today was Lulwa's birthday (one of our students). Danna convinced Zach and me to bring our mandolin & guitar, respectively, and sing happy birthday to her in the faculty lounge. We discovered that her nickname is "Lulu," so we sang a bluegrass-style rendition of happy birthday to Lulu, seeing as how "Lulu" sings so well bluegrass-style. She was sufficiently embarrassed. It turns out that Curtis Farmer, one of our liberal arts profs, plays keyboard, and Joe Estrada plays drums, so now the students want us to form a faculty/staff band. This should be interesting.
Khaled is a Syrian fellow who works for a local computer parts vendor. He takes care of us; if his company can't find the part we need, Khaled heads for the souqs and finds it himself, delivers it to us, and we pay him directly. I am in the process of constructing a couple of antenna masts, and I needed a pair of guy-wire rotator cuffs (so I can attach guy wires to them, and they'll be able to rotate freely around the mast). The one I fashioned for the mast at our villa took a long time to make, but worked well, so I figured I'd see if Khaled knew anyone with a machine shop who could do some custom work for me.
He didn't know anyone offhand, but he knew where to look. This evening, he took me over to the industrial district and, after asking around a bit, we located Al-Jazeera Lathe Works and Garage. I had taken the time to make a drawing on the computer of what the part needed to look like, and even included a photo of the one I'd made, so Khaled was able to tell the machinist what we wanted without too much difficulty. The guy quoted us 40 riyals. Where else can you get custom machine work done for twelve bucks? We're supposed to go back tomorrow to pick up the pieces.
I'll be able to find my way back on my own, if I have to, since my boss bought a GPS unit to help in setting up our wireless shots. It's a Garmin eTrex Vista, and it works like a champ. Thankfully, it automatically adds travelled routes to its internal map as I drive around town, because the canned maps for this part of the world aren't that great, if they exist at all. I have ordered GPSy software for Mac OS X, so maybe I'll become my own GPS mapping department...reminds me of the good ol' days at BTU, when Phil stuck an antenna atop his minivan and would cruise around town with his laptop and GPS unit, mapping unmapped roads for us. Way ahead of his time, Phil was.
We finally planted some plants in the dirt patch in our backyard, after mixing some "organic fertilizer" (a fancy term for processed camel dung) into the soil. We have no clue what will survive the heat over here, so it's something of an experiment. We bought all the plants, fertilizer, and a couple of planters at a small nursery we stumbled upon after we got lost looking for a different nursery. There aren't that many nurseries around here, so we figured it was Providence that took us to this one. Nobody spoke any English, but we managed. Trading goods for money has its own language, I suppose.
Our son is learning verses as part of the "Sparks" program, which is sort of the entry level of AWANA. It's gratifying to see my little boy hiding God's Word in his heart, and the memory capacity of a five-year-old is nothing short of incredible.
My wife asked me to trim our boy's bangs the other day, and then was mortified when I cut them too short for her liking. I'm probably out of the haircutting business for now, which is fine by me. I like to avoid needless controversy.
We're scheduled to move into our new building at work on February 8, which is the day after the upcoming week-long Eid-Al-Adha, the celebration of the end of the pilgrimage to Mecca. Which means that, after this Thursday, we won't be able to get anything done because the whole country will shut down for a week. Which is a concern for us, because we have issues. For example, the electrical contractor installed the wrong type of electrical outlets throughout the entire building, so we can't plug anything in. They look very similar to the standard British-style outlet used over here, but they're not the same--the hole for the ground lug is smaller than the standard. At last report, the contractor is going to custom-grind a bunch (a bunch!) of plug adapters so we'll be able to plug things in while we wait for them to replace the outlets. I also have a shipment of wireless equipment that's sitting in customs, and I can't get a straight answer on what needs to happen to get the stuff delivered. DHL wants me to fill out paperwork with Q-Tel. Depending on who I talk to at Q-Tel, they say either it's DHL's job to do the paperwork, or no paperwork is needed, or I need to call someone else. Irfan just got back in town, though, and as he's one of the two people who actually do productive work at Q-Tel, maybe we can get this straightened out before the Eid. Maybe.
I love the friends I've made over here; they're great folks, and I think the world of them. But there's something wrong with their brains. Talking to various people of different nationalities over here in Doha, I am continually amazed at the unquestioning acceptance many of them seem to share of the philosophy that having firearms in the hands of private citizens is a bad idea. They're highly intelligent otherwise, which makes this issue all the more puzzling.
For example, Mark and I were talking with a Lebanese fellow about crime in America, and how some sections of certain large cities are like war zones, where even the police keep their distance. He blamed the problem on American gun ownership.
Let me get this straight...criminals, who have obtained firearms illegally, are using them to commit further crimes, and these crimes are my fault because I own firearms? Believe me, if I could somehow stop the actions of violent criminals by destroying my firearms, I'd be all for it. The trouble is that there's simply no connection between my firearms and those crimes. In fact, if there were any connection at all, it would be that my firearms deter those crimes from being committed in my neighborhood. Private gun ownership is a deterrent to crime, not a cause of it. That's not a feeling I have; that's a statistical fact. You can read about it.
Back to my Lebanese friend. I asked him what he thought about the guns in Qatar, which (supposedly) are carried only by the police and military. He actually denied that the police carry guns! I'll have to mention that to the policemen who are posted 24x7 at the gate of my housing complex, armed with AK-47s. Maybe they'll give one of those nonexistent AKs to me. Speaking of policemen, I've never understood the logic that says a policeman with a gun is beneficial to society, but a private citizen with a gun is a danger to society. I daresay I'm a better shot than at least two-thirds of the Qatari police force, and I'm not all that great a shot (ask Beck)! Now, I'm quite glad that our guards are armed; I think even my Lebanese friend would agree that, otherwise, they wouldn't be much use as guards. All the same, I'd be much happier if I could hang an AK-47 over my shoulder as well, if and when I felt the need.
Again, I digress. I turned the conversation away from guns to what I see as the core of the problem in America, which is that people no longer fear God. In Qatar, they don't really know who God is, but they still have a healthy fear of Him...and the knowledge that "God is watching" is a great restrainer of crime in this country (well, that, and their Wahhabi Islamic law). Guns in the hands of God-fearing people are instruments of peace and justice. Ask an Iraqi about that sometime.
I mentioned the conversation to another friend, who shook his head and made the comment that guns were bad because "it's easier to kill someone with a gun than with, say, a knife." Well, of course it is, and that's why I generally prefer guns over knives for self-defense! If I am in a situation that requires me to defend my own life, or the life of my family, I don't want to have to stick someone. I want to be able to shoot him. The truly amazing thing to me is that this particular fellow is a German. You'd think they'd have learned their lesson about being disarmed.
Americans seem to be unique in their healthy distrust of government. Think about that. The U.S. Constitution, and specifically the second amendment, have effectively prevented the U.S. government from committing any truly egregious acts against the American people (with the possible exception of the Civil War). But these folks are from parts of the world where, throughout history, governments have repeatedly oppressed, even massacred, their own people, shortly after disarming them. These people should be teaching me the meaning of distrusting government and hoarding weapons. Instead, they seem to have an inexplicable blind faith in the government, preferring to place their personal safety completely in its hands rather than be personally responsible for a "dangerous weapon."
Are they deliberately ignoring the fact that Jesus told His disciples to arm themselves for self-defense? Has their culture become so feminized that even full-grown men are trained to cringe at the very thought of one of those loud, dangerous gun-things? Have they been brainwashed by a leftist educational establishment bent on controlling the world? God alone knows the answers, but I can at least offer Santayana's famous words: "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
Doha driving tip #549: If you see a driver in Doha using their turn signals, they're probably not from around here. And you'd best steer clear of them, because they're likely to cause an accident.
We went to the camel races the other day. I should say we attempted to go to the camel races. A group of 16 people chartered a bus with Arabian Adventures, who has a great reputation (and, anyway, we work with the wife of one of the owners), to take us out to the racetrack--an hour's drive outside of Doha. Once we arrived, though, we were denied entrance.
Apparently a member of the royal family, an uncle or a brother of the Emir, had decided that he and his entourage would have the whole place to themselves. They were letting Arabs in, but not us Westerners. I guess he didn't realize that we all work for Her Highness. Our guides told us that they've had problems in the past with PETA-types taking pictures and then raising cain about animal rights violations, which may have been a partial cause of the sheik's unreasonable behavior. Yet another reason to dislike PETA (as if we needed one), even if the sheik was just on a power trip, as I suspect. Chalk it up as a cultural experience!
I don't know about animal abuse--the camels looked pretty well-fed and well-groomed to me--but the camel jockeys might be another story. The jockeys are all little Bedouin kids (the Arab version of gypsies), maybe six or seven years old on average. There were a couple of kids that looked two or three years old. All of them were scrawny, the better to ride camels I suppose, and were equipped with riding helmets and crops. While our tour guides were off trying unsuccessfully to convince the sheik to grant us admission, a bunch of the jockeys swarmed around our bus begging for money. We had to chase them away from the bus (minding our wallets, mind you) to keep from running over them when we drove off.
We were able to see the start of the race, in the distance. Nobody stayed in the stands; the spectators rode in 4x4 SUVs alongside the racing camels. Crazy! Since we weren't allowed in, our guides drove around a bit so we could get some photos of camels that weren't in the race, and we were able to get off the bus and get up close and personal with a small group of the animals that were tied to a fence. While we were there, some CID agents (the Qatari version of the Secret Service) pulled up and informed our guides that the sheik wanted us to leave the premises immediately if not sooner, and if he saw us again he would be Most Put Out. So, we went home.
The guides were flabbergasted about the whole thing. It was the first time they had been denied access to the racetrack. They didn't charge us, of course, but we gave them something for their time and trouble, since it wasn't really their fault. Maybe next time the sheik won't be around. Or maybe we'll at least run into some PETA loons, so we can have a good fistfight (and if you dress like an animal, I hear they won't hit you). Either way, it'll be worth another bus ride.
Lessee...what else is going on? We're back at work, our boxes may actually finally arrive sometime this week, inshallah, and our car is supposedly on a ship, heading this way.