The call to prayer

There is a lot of devotion in the Muslim religion. In fact, this devotion is shown five times a day during the call to prayer. Just like church bells ringing on a Sunday morning, the call to prayer echoes throughout the country five times a day on loud speakers that have been posted on every street corner, mosque, restaurant, shopping mall, and school. A loud, deep voice echoes over the country, chanting verses from the Holy Qur’an and a weird, silent blanket falls over everything else. For a Muslim, you are being summoned to stop whatever you are doing and worship your God- no matter where you are. For a non-Muslim, it can be disturbing and peaceful at the same time. For me, it’s a reminder of the world in which I live in.

The prayer intervals change each day depending on the sun. It begins at dawn and then repeats three times throughout the day, with the last one two hours after the sun has set. Most Muslims go to a mosque or prayer room during these times. However, if a Muslim is traveling and unable to reach a designated place of worship, he will first determine the location of Mecca and then roll out his prayer carpet and begin praying to Allah. In case you are driving during the call to prayer, it also takes over every radio station so that you can play it in your car. To be honest though, I don’t know how safe this is.

 When I first arrived in the country, the call to prayer really freaked me out. To be honest- it kind of scared me. After a month or so, you get used to it. Now I barely even notice when it is chanting in the background of a conversation that I may be having. Whether I hear it or not, the call to prayer is a huge reminder of the devotion that the Muslim people have to their religion. It makes them whole, tells them who they are, and gives them a reason for living. They worship in public and are not at all embarrassed to do so.

 Perhaps it is impossible for me to understand their religion, but it I would be blind if I said that I couldn’t see the devotion of Muslims.

The elevator boy

Every morning when I get to my office, I have someone waiting for me downstairs.  He is my elevator boy.  Well not really mine and he's not really the elevator boy; but he waits downstairs for me every morning and when he sees me, he runs as fast as he can (literally full sprint) to the elevator and pushes '4'.  (I work on the fourth floor of the building.)  He then holds the door until I reach him, gives me the loudest 'Hi Madam, how are you today?' greeting and up I go.  When I say loud, I mean his voice is so  loud that I think all eleven floors of the building can hear him.  Over the past eight months, since my arrival in Doha, I have come to look forward to this part of my morning every single day.  If he is not there in the morning, I feel a sense of sadness...like I just got broken up with or something.

Elevator boy is from Yemen.  I'm not really sure what his name is, how long he has lived in Qatar, or if he has family here- we haven't gotten that far in our relationship yet.  He is always clean and showered, which is quite rare here.  And he wears a blue jump suit, which is what all of the maintenance/cleaning boys in the building wear.

I am not the only one who loves him.  Everyone in my office talks about him too.  There are about fifteen maintenance boys in our building (this does not count tea boys) and he is the only one that we talk about.  He makes everyone smile and feel like they're special.  

Everyday elevator boy greets me at the beginning of the day and bids me farewell at the end of it.  He is also a frequent user of the 'thumbs up' gesture and uses it all of the time.

Last weekend, I went to a concert which was sponsored by a local phone service provider.  At the concert they gave out free t-shirts that were bright red, really soft, and said Vodafone across the front left pocket.  Since I always seem to carry the largest purse, friends kept stuffing these shirts in my bag.  This left me with several bright red, size L tees.  What to do?  I thought about it and decided I would take them to elevator boy Sunday morning.  Sunday morning came, I was walking into work and there he was waiting for me.  I told him I had a gift for him and brought out the bright red tees.  I didn't know if I was insulting him by offering him clothing, but he took them and said thank you maam.

I didnt see elevator boy for the remainder of the day.  I was quite busy running around at work, so it wasnt until the next afternoon that I saw him.  As I got in the elevator, stressed and thinking about the millions of things I had to do- in jumped elevator boy.  He pushed '4' and this time rode up with me.  He said, 'Thank you for the shirts maam.  You are the only American I have ever met and you are so nice. Very nice'.

I almost cried.  He really, really appreciated the gift and wasn't insulted at all.  I told him he was more than welcome and I was glad he enjoyed them.  (Even though they were size L and he is like an XS)

Even after I leave Qatar, elevator boy will forever be in my heart.  He is definately someone special and I am no better of a person than he is. 

Fourth floor, please.

It's all a process.

Take thirty seconds- close your eyes, breathe deeply, imagine a place where you feel calm, maybe even count to ten or twenty slowly.

This is a vital skill in Qatar- patience and staying calm.  I remind myself of this every single day.

Patience is key in a soceity where multiple language barriers exist and cultures and customs meet in one giant pot that hasn't yet been stirred.  There are about 1.6 million people living in Qatar and only about 260,000 of actual natives.  The rest of us join together in the country from all over the world to partake in the workforce of a rapidly growing economy.  It is the result of so many different types of people living in one small peninsula that makes some of the simplest things so difficult.

From ordering an appetizer at dinner to making a large business transaction- everything takes time and sometimes even multiple attempts before it is ever done right.  Life here is a process.  It is only after you learn that, that you can really acheive your goals.