Waving Dubai-bye to Doha, hello to Omaha.

I can't believe it's over.

3 months, ninety days, endless experiences all beneath the melting desert sun, and it's over. I'm back in Omaha.

I arrived only hours ago after roughly thirty-three joyous hours of traveling through the wonderful creations that are airports. Dante knew nothing of the circles of hell. I've got him beat... but that's a story for another time.

My last days in Doha were fantastic. As Ramadan commenced in full swing, I found myself striving to savor those last niblets of all my favorite Qatar things. The ABODE gang took me to Thai Snack, where I gorged myself on melon dipped in curry sauce, fried morning glories and of course papaya salad. I will miss that.

Sweaty and stuffed outside Thai Snack

For my final Thursday night, those crazy ABODE staffers threw a surprise going away party. They said we were going to watch the exorcist. Resigned to scary-movie-viewing (I hate horror films), I showed up at Bryce's apartment with popcorn and peas. Kath met me outside with a grin. "You scared?" This from the girl who gets goosebumps watching daytime TV.

"Of course!" I exclaimed, following her up, up and away into Bryce's apartment. We all know how this story ends. Crowding in the hallway were all the people I had come to know and absolutely cherish during my time at Doha: Bryce, Tessa, Megan, Del, others. "SURPRISE!" They shouted as I walked inside. "Surprise!"

Megan, me, kath and Joyce (an amazing person/writer/MISS YOU!)

"We made vegetarian food," explained Kath, showing me the impressive array of goodies. Bryce prepared Indian dishes. Kath cooked up some puppy chow and chopped vegetables. ("I knew how to cut cauliflower because you showed me," she noted. "I hated it.") Megan whipped together her famous guac, and Tessa repeated the created-by-mistake hummus Lebanese seven layer mexican style dip, which tastes far better than it sounds.

Poor Salah: promised movie time, equally surprised by surprise party

"And we made bloody maries because they are veggie too," added a grinning Miss Flood.

Half the snack table. YUM.

I spent the remaining days in the company of good friends, relishing the sun, sand and all that I would soon leave.

Then it was time to go. They took me to the airport, this unexpected family of mine, Bryce and Tessa and of course Kathleen. We hugged and I almost couldn't let go. I'm not ready, I wanted to say. I could stay another nine months, I could keep on writing and living with Kath. I'm not ready.

Kath pushed a note into my hand and slid a bracelet on my wrist. I've never been one to cry when appropriate, so the tears I felt in my heart weren't quite there on my face. Suffice to say it was hard to walk through that awful security checkpoint and commence my long journey back towards H'omaha. I'm not ready.

Shisha partner, and so much more (liason? Sister? Both? Mobile?)

Now, sitting in bed hours later waiting for the sun to rise, with the smell of autumn mixing with the scent of clean bed sheets and bottles of my untouched perfume, I realize just how much I grew to love Doha and the people there. The opportunity was amazing. Fresh from college, I was allowed the chance to work as a full time staff writer for a nine-year-old magazine. My editors gave me freedom to pursue my own stories and guidance to keep me on track. I lived in the Middle East, a land so entirely different from anything I'm used to that still my head is reeling. And I met some amazing, amazing people... people who have again reminded me just how great life can be when you let those certain individuals in.

Already little things about being back in Nebraska are surprising and astounding me. The soda cans open with a pop-top lid. The air is scented with grass and trees that will soon drop their leaves. The sun is still hiding and it's after 5:30. There are no women in abayas, no men in thobes. Wow.

Reverse culture shock, here I come.

For as much as it hurts to leave behind ABODE and the fantastic people I met there (here's looking at you, KK), I am ready for my next adventure. California looms just weeks in the future. Until then, I plan on fully indulging in the charms Omaha has to offer. It'll be nice to see old friends, enjoy my own room, and spend time with Lisa. I want to visit the farmer's market, Whole foods, book stores, my old high school, Creighton...

After that? Cambridge. A new life. A new run.

...speaking of run, I think I may sneak off right now and go for one outside. I can do that here. It's not 120F. Wow.

I'm back in Omaha.

Top 10

It's crunch time.

I am talking 10 days until I leave. 10 days until I hop on another flight, bounce to Paris, bound to Omaha, visit folks there, trek to Cali, then head to my new home at Cambridge. 10 days and counting.

Sometimes, the ironic vegetarian in me likes to kiss one of the many weird dead animal pellets lining the alleyways of the Souq. ... Like this.

I feel like I'm doing a Top 10 music list of Doha. Playing today? Possibly puppies and kittens (with the Qatar animal welfare society, which I might be volunteering at/interviewing/exploring for the sake of animal shugah). Early morning workout with Kath and our good friends the above-40-rat-pack (as I've named the same four men who are there every day, bright and early, with me. The sole female.)

...one of those men likes to take a conspicuously long time getting water when I'm stretching and my tush is in the air. The cooler just happens to be located near the stretching mats. Hmm.

But anyways! I am powering through Qatar. There's so much I want to see before I go, and so much I simply want to re-enjoy. It's a bit terrifying to realize my days will no longer be filled with things like this:

Models

Watching Kath work her magic in the fashion world

Photoshoot.

Del biting Kath's butt... yes, there are many butt bites here at ABODE.

Ego-crushingly gorgeous new friends (seriously, Divya. Where's the justice?)

And what about my favorite places to eat, like the $2.50 hummus and tabouleh delicious goodness i adore from the Villagio food court?

Even Kath loves the hummus. See? Happy face.

There are so many amazing events coming up in the cooler (read: Below 120F, 68% humidity) months that I'll be missing. The Doha Tribeca Film Festival, for starters. ABODE attended a premier of one-minute movies in association with the DTFF. Unfortunately, Kath and I arrived a bit late (I had another event. ... I went to a book club.) and missed the showing of the movies. We did meet some pretty awesome filmmakers, young people, and general hipsters.

Young! Artsy! Female! Film Festival!

I guess what I'm saying is I'm a bit sad to be leaving so soon. It's bitter sweet. I realize my time here is up, and that I'm moving on to a whole new, amazing adventure. Only I've spent these past couple months doing what I love (writing), guided by an amazing editor (that's you, Tessa), surrounded by pretty fantastic people (not my dumb roomy. .. . or the absolutely horrible photographer/editor-in-chief/whatever-title-it-is-now) and working for a fantastic magazine.

It's a 22-year-old journalist's dream.

P.S. Ramadan is just around the corner! It starts whenever the new moon decides to appear, so any day now. Apparently the government has ordered all grocery stores sell around 150 products at market price (?!!), which means eggs, breads, etc will be significantly cheaper. All in the spirit of giving. I can't wait, wait, wait to see what happens.

Dates and Birthdays!

Want to see how I started my day? Running along this.

And this.

Pretty darn amazing, that's for sure. More than 7k. Ocean. Sun. 5:30am, and a bleary-eyed miss Kathleen Flood kindly dropping me off at one end (although I'm not sure she quite realized what was happening). I arrived at The Sheraton (pictured above, the weird pyramid thing) red-faced and more grinny than usual.

I grin a lot in the mornings. Kath prefers to sleep. Something about 'normal people don't wake up at 5am, you FREAKONATURE, go to BED!' But of course I can't, because my body hates me and loves the sun. I'm like a darn flower.

Not sure Kath is a morning flower.

We're hitting deadline here at ABODE, which is one of my favorite times. It means everything's intense and fast pace. Stories have to be turned in now, now, yesterday, and others are ready for editing, and where are all those photos? I love it. I think the adrenaline junky in me would be perfectly content working for a newspaper where everything is rapid-fire pace... only I love deep stories too much to do that.

Aside from work (with our new crazy work hours, 8-1, 4-7, say goodbye to your day! Only I really actually like it most the time), life is just... well.. Doha. We celebrated Kath's big 22 birthday last week.

Birthday girl in action on a fashion photoshoot.

I was able to pull some PR strings and work a lil magic, ending in a big surprise at The Ritz with Kath's many buddies and delightful cake.

I actually went out (GASP!) dancing at Palomas, a sassy lil club with free drinks all night for ladies.

Dancing was fun.

The next day was not. I think there's a reason I stick to early bedtimes/water/books. Wait, isn't there a name for that? ...nerd. Shoot.

As things heat up, Doha's getting ready for Ramadan. It starts Aug 22 this year (each year it moves back 10 days). During Ramadan, Muslims here only work half days. The government offices do the same. This means things go a lot slower, and much later into the night, since Iftar (the breaking of the fast) starts once the sun goes down. Dates and milk are used to break the fast.

I've been eating a lot of dates lately. They are everywhere. Given as gifts, huge boxes of dates are now popping up at hotels (hello, Sheraton!) and in the corners of our office. I ate seven in an hour the other day, which resulted in one very, very energetic Danae. Note to self: dates = candy = LOTS OF SUGAR.

Then there's Sohour, the second meal during Ramadan. These can go into the wee hours of the morning and are hosted all around town, either in private homes or in large, grand tents. I can't wait to attend a Sohour... even if it will be much, much after my bedtime. During Ramadan, people aren't allowed to eat, drink or smoke in public. Regulations on clothing (no shoulders, no skirts above the knees) have become a lot stricter these past couple weeks. Folks are being fined thousands of dollars.

So I stay covered. It's amazing what you learn to do with layering. All part of living in a strange land.

I'm heading home in two weeks, where I'll lurk for some number of days before waving goodbye bye to Omaha and hello to Cali.

After a week of Leia lei lei family time, I'll be off to Cambridge! My goodness, where did the time go?

I do love living in beautiful, new places. Unfortunately, Cambridge wont be nearly as sunny.

Danae's Dubai Dabbles (and other D words)

There is something unconquerable about the desert. Riding a bus from Abu Dhabi to Dubai, I watched miles and miles of desert pass by. Forward, backward, it stretched out in shades of yellow and sunburnt orange, with a single strip of highway winding through like a crack in a piece of granite. I will be here long after you're gone, it seemed to say. I will survive and swallow you in dust and sand. You're little. I'm endless. And that is life...

I like feeling little. As we moved into- and then two days later back out of -Dubai, I found myself just staring out the window. I'd say the bus ride was one of the highlights of the trip. There is something at once humbling and empowering about realizing how tiny I really am. My mistakes don't matter. My past, my future, everything is all just a blip on this endless twirling wonder that is the world. I am here now but one day I'll be gone.

So why not live for today? Why not love to the fullest, experiencing all I can?

Dubai itself was... well... Dubai. I don't think it's quite the metropolitan, large bustling New York or artsy Chicago I had in my head. It was just a bigger Doha with higher buildings and roads on roads. A large dust storm had just moved into the area, blocking out any traces of blue sky and making everything a pale, tannish grey. Dubai.

Dubai, Dubai. Danae dancing in Dubai. The friend gang of four and I did indeed dance, although the second night I called it an early eve and sunk to bed while everyone else slipped out.

I really am not much of a late owl, even when three red bulls are trying to give me wings.

We visited a large (understatement) mall where I found vegetable juice and an odd horse statue. Megan and Bryce found taco bell and salvation.

Kathleen searched out a hip little boutique called Sauce, where beautiful clothing mocked my innate unwillingness to spend hundreds of dollars. While she was trying on outfit after outfit, I wandered around a bookstore and a cupcake shop. It made me miss baking... and Leia, but really, what doesn't?

I also had a chance to meet with Dr. Ken Wise, a previous Creighton professor. Over cups of coffee, he discussed the vaguest details of his current profession. It was fascinating and amazing. I am constantly surprised at how many jobs exist that I've never even considered.

Like professional melon eater. I win.

Now we're back. Back to work, back to Doha, back to the city that honestly I like quite a lot better than Dubai. This morning I woke up at 5:30 (because my body hates me) and slipped out for a run. As the sun rose, I did my grocery shopping at Food Palace, a small Indian grocery store that has become my favorite. It was unusually quiet; the produce men were lining shelves with bread, unfamiliar fruit, milks, Laban. I was one of two customers.

I think what I'm getting at here is it feels good to be home. Dubai was nice, more because of the company than the city. But Doha? Oh, Doha I think has my loyalty... at least until Cambridge comes calling.

I'm going to miss some people when it does.

Germany, Doha, and dilly dallies!

I am currently sunburnt, energized (going to bed at nine will do that!) and honestly in love with life.

So what have I been up to?

Well, a little bit of this... as in, photoshooting, story writing, and generally working. I love working. My job is fantastic. Where else would I get to interview bikers, sit down with a non-traditional Qatari woman, talk fashion with Kathleen while wandering around one of Doha's many malls, sample new restaurants and meet people from all over the world? Every day is a diverse adventure. I go in with a rough idea of what to expect, and at the end I'm always a bit surprised by what happened. In this pic here, Bryce is taking shots of some acrobats who I guess have been training since they were around seven. Now that's dedication to a craft.

I've also been doing this: traveling. Work sent me to Germany for an Audi press junket. It was my very first actual business trip (and my first time traveling business class!) I had a plane seat that folded into a flat bed, access to endless snacks during layovers and great company. Germany itself was, of course, beautiful. I didn't get to see much of Munich itself, since most of my time was packed with Audi press events. Guess that's the nature of business, eh? But I'm learning. Guess some people will ask to stay on an extra couple of days, book their own affordable hostel, and travel around in the country where they're sent. That's good to know.

Turns out Germany, while beautiful, is also cold and rainy. Here's me, sad-face style, with a plastic poncho and borrowed suit jacket.

So working, traveling... what else? Friends. I've started meeting people outside of work, while simultaneously getting to know the folks I work with better. I'm glad there's such a great team at ABODE and other Bilal-owned operations. They make the weekends fun and my fridays under the sun more exciting.

I'm really missing Whole Foods (salad bar!!!) and my little sister. Yes, I realize putting those in the same breath is odd, but the two tend to go hand-in-hand for me (leia! Let's go eat! ok!). So I've booked a flight to Cali before I leave for Cambridge. I'll be there for about a week visiting the lil, the bro, and even the pops. Since it'll be the last time for at least two years (most likely), I think this trip will be extra precious.

I've also decided to try and run three races in three cities: 5k in Omaha, 10k in Modesto, CA, and a half marathon in Birmingham, UK. This means I've started training again, which has, if anything, made me that much more of a nerd. Didn't really know that was possible!

Speaking of nerd... I'm running out of books. I'm down to my last one. It's Kathleen's and it's surreal fiction. I've also found it increasingly difficult to read magazines without thinking about work and business. This could be a problem.

Just finished "The Alchemist," a book given to me by the lovely SAO staff (thanks Liz, Katie, Katy and Eric!). It was fantastic... all about pursuing your dreams, rushing forward in pursuit of your true life goal. One of the things that resonated strongest was how so often we settle, and thus we exist with this sort of slow, pained feeling that says 'this isn't right, this isn't right'. It's a monotonous death. I do not want to settle, not for a moment.

Which is why I'm going to work hard while I'm here and work hard at Cambridge- not only to achieve the basic goals, but also to strengthen who I am. I'm finding out.

...through techniques like buying these investment boots, a la Kathleen-inspiration. ;)

Celebratin the fourth, Doha style!

My goodness (my guinness!) I'm hungry. It's almost lunch time here in the office, and considering I still wake up around 5am (thank you sunshine!) I've gone far too long without food. How am I ever going to survive during Ramadan?

Well, the July issue of ABODE has hit the shelves, offices and gyms. This means I'm out and about in the glossy world of magazines, a published journalist. It's crazy. Absolutely crazy. When Tessa dropped a copy off on my desk, I almost started crying. Call me young, naive and all other sorts of names, but at the end of the day I can't help but to be young and naive and all sorts of happy. I'm a journalist, for real. 

When I'm not hiding behind a desk in our fortunately air conditioned office, I'm out and about getting lost on the Doha streets and meeting my interviewees. I can't really detail the stories I'm working on this month; suffice to say I'm excited and I think they're going to be pretty good. Tessa made a point the other day about how writing is more significant when you feel it might impact people, when it might make a little change in even one life. 

That's the kind of writing I want to do. Change lives. 

The ABODE staff got together on the 3rd to celebrate 'merica in the 'merican style. We ate hotdogs, burgers (Bryce requested veggy burgers for me. YUM!) and sat in the sun for hours. After lounging around lazy in the exhausting heat, Kath and I ducked out to attend a salsa "Bad taste" party. My gangly limbs struggle to dance, but I still had a great time. Kath, dancer o'15 years, was naturally pretty good. And pretty. Even in her colorful outfit.

Being in Doha for the fourth made me miss my family, especially lil sis 'n bro. I think last year, my pops tried to grill a lobster. Not quite sure what they did this year. It's getting tougher to cope with the fact that I'll be leaving Leia for two years in two more months, and that I probably wont see her during that entire time. She truly is one of my best friends.

Maybe she can fit in my suitcase.

That having been said, I really can't imagine myself anywhere else right now but here. I absolutely love what I'm doing. The people are so well travelled, interesting, diverse, loud and dirty and pristine and chaotic. It's everything at once thrown into a desert, with opulence and poverty shoved side-by-side. It's astounding. 

 

Yesterday after dinner at Thai Snack (which is absolutely, positively one of the greatest not-secret secrets here in Doha), the team'o'staff popped into this nearby antique store. It's the first used-goods shop I've seen yet in Doha. I fell in love, mostly with the upstairs attic room filled with hundreds of books. Swollen from heat and dusty with age, the books were stacked against the walls and falling in piles. I could have spent hours going through each one. It's times like that that I realize just how awfully nerdy I truly am. I love books. I enjoy reading. I wanted to accost the store owners and demand they sit down and talk with me about literature. 

 

Instead, I went home, finished off my fruit supply, and watched a film called "How to make an American quilt" with my sleepy suntanned roomy. It was the perfect end to a beautiful couple of days.

Friday Fun Day!

(yes, that man does look very freaked out in the background...)

Days off are few and far between here.

The Doha work week stretches from Saturday to Thursday, meaning Fridays are free days. Folks do get a three hour break in the middle of the day, which I suppose makes up for the one-day weekend. Only hey! Journalists don't! Because the news never sleeps, even if its writers try to get into bed at 10 (rarely happens). 

But I'm getting ahead of myself. 

These past couple days have been a'rushing and busy. We had dinner on Mr. Bilal's boat. Sitting around munching on nuts and bites of small talk, Mr. Bilal stood up around 9pm and announced there was a little 'snack' upstairs. The snack proved to be an amazing spread of around thirty dishes. Dinner ran until midnight. 

I had three plates and could've eaten more. See me there, in the left corner? Please notice I'm the only one who still has a plate. Oh yes. And that's other ABODE staff in their snazzy best. 

Friday arrived after several more interviews. Taking the day slow, I woke up at 6 and bounded off to the Sheraton for my morning jog-a-thon. I love running. In the company of two other crazy earlier morning'ers, I had probably one of the best runs yet. Great start to a great day! I keep trying to convince myself to run outside, but the 90-108 degree temp somehow keeps me indoors.  

I wandered around Carefourre for a bit trying to find contact solution for Kath (no luck) and groceries for me (always luck). Blissed out from running, I found myself narrating the story of every passerby, always circling back to one central theme: I love it here. The woman in the pink sari, the little girl running past shouting in german after her mom, the men jostling at the produce stand trying to find onions (what do they do with all those onions?!)... all of it. I hear french, arabic, italian, british english, accents heavy and rich with travels of the world. I wander through isles filled with food unfamiliar to me, hailing from regions as diverse as this population.

I love Doha. 

We brunched at the Ritz where my mouth found a new sanctuary. There's something to be said about a buffet where caviar,  champagne and fois gras are on the menu. Here's a shot or two of the interior. 

Kath and I retreated then to the private beach at the Sheraton, to melt and die in the 105 heat. It was so hot that people couldn't move- they just floated on rafts in the water, bobbing almost comically in the sun and gentle waves. Occasionally I'd dive in, swim, flop, swim, and then somehow find myself just laying across my own personal bobbing mat. 

So that was my weekend. Grocery stores, food, and beach. Now it's time to get back to work. Tonight I'm going to a salsa class to interview folks and try to get my gangly limbs moving in time. Funny, I know.

 I love writing. I love this job. I'm even starting to be amused by the crazy traffic and how people park on sidewalks, resulting in people walking on streets, resulting in even crazier traffic (look! Dodge that man! Don't stop or they all walk in front of your car!) 

Maybe I shouldn't be behind the wheel. Kath did test drive a saucy red built-for-street-racing car with a switch that made it go even faster. 

And I'm probably going to Germany to test drive another. I say, bring it on. Who needs two-day weekends when jobs are this amazing? 

So this is culture shock

It didn't happen with a bang, a snap, or anything much of notice at all... but it happened. Somehow, between here and there, I've started to experience a bit of culture shock.

I walk down the street angry at the absence of females. I find myself marching ahead as though convinced that if I go long enough, cross that next corner and creep over that next bridge, I will find just a gaggle of girls my age. They'll be chatting casually and I will somehow find a way to introduce myself. Hello, Danae from America. Nice to meet you.

I walked an hour on Sunday. After working all day in the office, I was so desperate to move my legs that I couldn't even wait ten minutes for Kathleen to finish up. I texted her as the Doha heat caught me and I moved outside: I'm sorry, I said. I just have to get out. Go swim without me. 

But I didn't see any women.

People stare. That's bothering me too. People stare all the time. And by people, I mean men. And by stare, I mean they follow me aggressively with their eyes, studying me in a manner I just can't understand. Sexual? Surprised? Malicious? Genuinely interested? I don't know. I'm starting to feel like I never will.

So this is culture shock. I drove by Subway today on my way back from an interview and found myself craving a big ol' 'merican sandwich- only I don't like Subway. Or big ol' American sandwiches. I'm not consciously homesick, but somewhere my mind is registering that this place of sun and sand is very, very far from home.

Yet! Yet I want to say, yet again and again, that I'm so grateful to be here. In the pic above, I'm helping photograph recipes I wrote and prepared alongside Kath and Bryce. 

I know without a doubt that were Cambridge not around the corner, I would stay in a heartbeat. I love my job. I love the people I work with, and the kindness of the many individuals I meet. I love the excitement of Doha, the ocean, the food (my god... the food...) 

To amuse myself, I've compiled a list of lil Doha things that are just different:

• People don't use napkins here. There are tissues. At nice restaurants, in the middle of tables, there are boxes of tissues. Makes me think of boogies. 
• Only one day off, and that's Friday. Six day work week!
• Books are impossible to find. When you do, they're horribly expensive
• Several times a day, all radios tune in to Prayer Call, and Mosques have their own Prayer Calls. It's really amazing, driving down the street hearing all these different voices
• I haven't seen a single pack of mustard
• I found ketchup!
• Everyone drinks carrot juice. Everywhere.
• Everyone also drinks Nescafe. As in, insta-coffee. My tongue is sad.
• Work days go 6-1, 4-7pm. Except for us journalists. We just go straight. 
• Every bathroom has a lil bide, or a thing to wash yourself in a very intimate way after doing that one thing.

Well, there are more lil nuances that have happened but I can't quite remember. Tonight Kath and I are going to yoga (I finally succumbed to the QR 50, or $14 price tag) and then meeting up with some other expats at a cafe tonight. 

Life is amazing. The culture shock will wear off, and I'll be better for it. It was time this westward young woman broke out of her shell.