Sweet reminder of home

Camels before slaughter

At least it's not after slaughter. Someone told me these were destined to be meat.

a Sir-vice industry

More than half of Qatar's population consists of men from the third worlds who come on 1 to 3 year contracts, earning money to send back to families in the Philippines, Indonesia, Pakistan, Sudan, and others.

Typical uniforms are of yellow or blue, like the window washers above. Vast armies of men constantly mop and scrub the same areas of buildings over and over, as if their efforts cost little. When you pass them in the hall they step aside deferentially. Most do not know much English, and if you try to speak with them you will most likely get called "sir."

At night, the security guards (also foreign) accompany cleaners to each office, opening office doors and standing watch as cleaners past through with feather dusters and gather up any mugs or glasses to return to the kitchen. The next morning, the middle-aged "tea boy" arrives at 6 a.m. to fire up the coffee and wash the used cups.

He smiles brightly as he carries coffee and cookies to each office, but very soon he runs out of things to do, as there are only a handful of people who actually want his tea or cookies. He returns to his kitchen and tries to stay awake for the rest of the day. It will be a long three years until he sees his family. But if his contract is renewed, it could be hard to justify the cost of a return trip. I wonder, does he feel he has landed a great opportunity? I strongly doubt anyone forced him to come here, with the possible exception of his family, to whom $3000 per year might seem like a lot. Still, it is tempting to think in terms of modern-day slavery.

The plant boy stops by my office about once every two weeks to trim and water my plant. Every parking lot is staffed by a watchman who is responsible to move the gate up to let traffic through. Once I tried walking out the main entrance to my building to go get groceries. The gateman moved the gate up to let me walk though even though there was plenty of space to walk between the gates.

The World Conference for Science Journalists

I heard a commotion outside my office. A man was warming up on his guitar-thing.

Retirement

My work is finished. I will watch some TV and take in a few sights. Then I will pass away ... to the U.S.A.

Pots

I captured a rare tourist posing in front of a window full of pots. I asked him where he was from and he said ``the little Afghanistan of the US."

In one shop I found a pot about 4.5 feet in diameter and 28 inches deep. I think it's for boiling camels.

Villaggio mall

The fast (and furious) food of Iran

Americans whine and cry about 1000-calorie McDonald's meals causing slow deaths for a nutritionally disengaged customer base that cares only about money and yummy. But McDonalds is nothing. Behold a 25 riyal ($6.90 USD) Iranian fast food meal deal:

The furious part was when I bit into an oddly-lonely green bean only to discover it was rather spicy. I was eating so fast that it was halfway swallowed by the time I noticed, so I had to finish swallowing it. I sweated and got the hiccups so bad I could hardly get down my yogurt drink (included in the meal) in time to prevent the spices from doing permanent damage. In the US you can probably sue a restaurant for including a spicy green bean in a meal without a printed warning.

Qatar has one of the highest rates of diabetes in the world; about 1 in 1o Qataris are diabetic.

A battle ends

Every teacher has two main groups of enemies at work.

The first group of enemies is the administration. If you don't do a good job, they might fire you. If you just give all the students A's, they get mad at you. If you give all the students F's, they give you an F too. It's a very fine line you must walk to avoid getting eaten by the administration.

The second group of enemies is the students. If you try to make them learn too much, they will give you bad evaluations. If you don't make them come to class and they end up failing, they give you bad evaluations. If they work hard and still don't understand what's going on, they will do their best to replace you. The students may call you "sir" or "professor" or "sir professor sir," but their rhetoric is pure passive aggression.

Today was the last day of direct hand-to-hand combat. Only the final exam remains, for which my only role is to stand as a sentry. I am happier now.

Wheelbarrows

As seen at Al Souq Waqif. Old men push these around throughout the market. Only old men.

Iraqi food

I asked the waiter what was the most ``uniquely Iraqi" thing on the menu, and he suggested a few things.

I give high ratings for the uniqueness factor on this happiness-sized dish of flatbread half-soaked in tomato-onion sauce and topped with beef ribs.

Another guy got this this huge bread roll that was stuffed with stuff. My dish was better; moister. The moisterness is important.

Wacky Chicken

A curious by-product of civilization.

Mosque

110

Thursday the temperature is supposed to reach 110 degrees fire and height with a wind-cook factor of medium-rare.

Gaining weight again ... Yummy!

Scrutinize me

As my students suffer away on their midterm exam, I scrutinize me. How I have I become this modern day slave-master? What is this strange arrangement in which students pay a school to hire me to harass them day in and day out, threatening them with failure, prosecuting them for "cheating," and prompting them to lift mental weights that they have no desire to lift?

Bird grows

This continues from a previous post. The bird is a teenager now. First real feathers grew.

The wings took shape.

The bird migrated to a corner with less poop.

The bird flaps its wings for joy when it sees me!

The bird has at least two caretakers.