And I lived in a place called the Valley of Vung
And nothing, not anything ever went wrong
Until...well, one day I was walking along
And I guess I got careless. I guess I got gawking
At daisies and not looking where I was walking...."
- Dr. Seuss | I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew
How ironic that my favorite childhood story has seemingly turned from children's fiction to an eerily accurate biography of our lives in Doha.
If you know me at all, you'll expect a true (slightly, very slightly, exaggerated) account of reality. I won't pretty it up. I won't make life in Doha look like something you're missing out on. I'm all about keepin' it real. With that said, if you are looking for a break from reality, slowly step away from this blog post. And so it goes...
Where to start? Oh, I know. Let's start back at driving school. You see, here in Doha, one can't just stroll on into the local DMV and have someone take a look-see at your very valid and current driver's license from America. For one reason, there isn't a DMV. There are a number of private driving schools that prepare you for the roads in Doha. (Stop right there. Nothing can prepare you for the roads in Doha. Nothing.) And the issuing party for your license? Well, that would obviously be the police department. For my Klamath Falls readers, you thought taking a driving test with the bun lady was rough. Try an Arabic police officer in uniform sporting a very intimidating beret, a long dark beard, who speaks possibly four words of English. Those words are: 'right', 'left', 'stop', and 'go'.
Driving school, really the best way I can share that is through photos, but you know I took notes while I was in there and you know those notes had nothing to do with safety on the roads. I took notes of the funny things the nice Indian man said. Anyone in their right mind would have done the same. There was some good material there! Whose to say my next career won't involve stand-up?
What I learned from driving school in Doha, Qatar:
"Why should we have safe driving? We love someone, isn't it? Think of six dearest ones...You have fainted. You are lying down, flat on the floor... would those six be happy?"
"Black and white line, this is known as kerb. This is not for touching while driving."
"If you hit a camel on a leg it will hit your car and make a sandwich. It is also 150,000 QAR fine. You make a choice."
Just as a point of reference for you - hitting a human being is a mere 100,000 QAR fine. Today's lesson: If you are about to have a collision with a person walking their camel across the road, best to aim for the person.
And some of my favorites come directly from the 'Learner's Handbook':
READ THIS! It's my favorite part!
Driving school actually turned out to be six of the most entertaining hours of my life in Doha. That's not true. But it was a pretty good time, for driving school, that is. We even got to take turns with a driving instructor to learn how to navigate the notorious roundabouts that are everywhere in this country. While I did learn how to drive through them, I didn't so much learn how to navigate them. More on that in a few short paragraphs.
Here we are waiting for our shot at the wheel. It was a bit of wait because one of the drivers felt it necessary for his trainees to drive him to a convenience store to pick up a pack of smokes and subsequently have a short smoke break.
And Livy helping me babysit, she's a natural.
Some other funnies from driving school that only pictures can do justice:
And, that was driving school. A combined 1,000 QAR later, for both Steve and myself, and I *think* it was worth it. We both ended up passing the driving test that we took days later, so I suppose that means it was effective since 50% of all those who take the test fail it. Keep in mind I'm talking about Doha, so you have to know that means that the test isn't always the same for everyone. For instance, the Americans in our bus of testers didn't have to 'pocket part' - while those of other nationalities did. This isn't to say that our nationality had anything to do with getting out of that added step, but for whatever reason we lucked out there. I'll take it.
Driving school was on a Saturday. Our driving tests were scheduled for the upcoming Wednesday. The ladies were scheduled to start testing at 5am. No, that wasn't a typo. We truly had to be at the driving test area by 5am. The gents? They got to go at 1pm. Keep in mind we're all teachers. They don't care. Fortunately for us, we have some pretty awesome employers who worked with us to make it happen. It's quite possible these awesome employers were also getting sick and tired of driving us every little place we needed to go in Doha. Either way - they're awesome!
Are you ready for the good part now? I saved the best for last because I was hoping I'd lose enough readers by now that only about half of those who actually open this post will get to this part. Hopefully the half that doesn't make it will include all members of my family.
It's 3am on Wednesday, September 12, 2012. My eyes squeak open to the sound of the 'marimba' on my iphone. I finally crawl, almost literally, out of the bed at 3:15am and begin a day that will forever be known as the day that had no end. Had I known at 3:15am on that fateful day what I know now, I would never have crawled out of bed on that particular day. Bleary eyed, I got myself ready to the best of my ability. I tried with all I had in me to put in a little extra effort, you know, just in case I had my picture taken for my new swanky Doha driver's license. Steve sweetly packed me a breakfast to go. The thought of food at 3:45am was enough to make me want to hurl, but I knew I'd get hungry at some point and if my mother taught me anything it's that it's never good to test on an empty stomach. At 4am, I made my way out the door to walk about 7 minutes to the pick-up place, where we'd been promised a bus and a driver. In all fairness - Mohammed was good on his promise. There was a bus. And there was a driver. Mohammed is our go-to guy. The guy who makes our appointments, arranges transportation, fills out our paperwork, gets us through lines faster (if you're a man), arranged for driving school, for our eye tests, for our driving tests...you get the idea.
There we all are, the bleary eyed ladies. We've loaded onto the bus. I think it'd be fair to call it the Mystery Machine, rollin' Scooby Doo style. We're ready to go. Coffee in hand. Learner's Handbooks out. We're all anxious and cramming what we can into our tired little brains. The driver hops in. He starts the bus. He attempts to close the door with that handy bus door closer gadget. He gets out of the bus. He attempts to close the door with his brute force. He gets back in the bus. The door is still open. The constant beeping to let us know the door is still open continues. The bus driver is getting flustered. We're getting flustered. Finally we all start telling him to just drive with the door open. What the heck - the fresh air will feel nice at 4:23am. All we care about is getting to our test on time. Never mind if we make it there alive. He can't understand a word we're saying. Fifteen women yelling at our white gowned driver in a foreign language probably didn't help our cause. He finally got the door closed, sort of, and we pulled off the gravel road onto the pavement. At one point, one of us had to hold the door closed because it kept popping back open. That might seem like an inconvenience, but it didn't last long.
About two minutes into our drive the bus broke down. Completely broke down. The engine lulled to a pathetic chug. The bus driver steered the Mystery Machine off the road, and there we sat. Stranded on the side of the road at 4:38am. Oh, it's no problem. We've got a competent driver to make sure we get where we need to be. He's got a cell phone and he's on it, most certainly talking with someone who can come and help us. Right? Wrong. The bus driver sputters and spews what I imagine to be profanities to the poor soul on the other end of the line. He throws his arms up. He gets out of the bus, paces around for a minute. Gets back on and manages to command us in English, "JUST WAIT! Wait here!" And then we see him walk away. He's walking away from the bus through a sandy desert in the darkness of the morning. And what? He's singing. He's singing and walking away. He's like a ghost in the night and just disappears... We're stuck in a bus on the side of a road in the middle of the desert. True story. There is no exaggeration there.
Below is a photo of our bus on the side of the road and another where, in the far off distance you may be able to see a man in white... walking away.
For the sake of your sanity, and mine, let's just move this right along. Clearly, we were rescued, thanks to the invention of cell phones and a few amazing people willing to get up in the dark of the morning to come and get us and take us to our driving teat.
We arrive at our destination at 5:30am and were given the sign test by the police. I passed. Phew. We were then put on a bus where we waited for 35 minutes. After that time, a driver got on (no worries, this is as quality bus with a quality driver - I've learned to modify my standards) and drove us about 20 yards, when we were all asked to get off the bus and stand behind a line.
From there we were split into two buses and taken out for our road test. The bus followed a test car and we all took turns hopping out, one by one, to take our driving test with a ginormous bus following behind. No pressure. Again...moving right along. We all passed! Yay! And it was, in one way, the best day of my life in Doha. Words can't really explain what it's like to live in a city like this with no means of transportation - other than calling your boss or his wife, and begging for a ride.
It was also the worst day of my life in Doha.
It took a mere 5 hours for us all to get our licenses and then back to work we went. As I mentioned the guys left work to take their tests at 1pm. There's a reason I'm mentioning that. After work, the girls put their heads together and decided it would be a fine idea for us to all get a bus and take it to the rental car agency and get cars the very day we got our licenses. It's been a long three weeks. We were all ready for driving freedom. The men weren't back yet and we figured we could do this without them, anyway. My fantabulous boss went the extra mile and even arranged for a bus to come and pick us all up at his villa at 4pm. Another bus. We were stoked!
At 4pm we all loaded onto that bus and away we went to the rental car agency. On our way there, it occurred to us that we should probably come up with a plan for how to get back home. All but two would be coming back solo and finding your way in Doha is a bit like getting to Solla Sallew. We came up with a fool proof plan, complete with promises, vows, and pinky swears that we'd all stick to our plan. We arrived to the car rental agency in the light of day. We all took careful note of the landmarks. One couple had a map, cell phones, and a plan. The two girls who decided they'd share a car carefully looked at their map. And all of the single drivers planned to wedge ourselves between the cars that knew what they were doing. After about two hours hunting for rental cars, we were walking away with keys to freedom. Ha!
Into our cars we hopped. Giddy from the excitement of the day and equally weary from being awake since 3am. Dumb. Just dumb. We realized we all needed gas, so we even devised a plan to make that work with five cars and six women. One of the couples who knew there way decided they'd better head out early and get back to their little girl who was waiting for them with a babysitter. Two brains down. Five to go. We owned that gas station. We were in and out, still aligned in our little caravan. It was beautiful. It was also now dark.
As planned the lead car would be Corinne and Jenna because Jenna had a map and got very clear directions on how to get back. She also had a working cell phone. It made sense for them to be in the lead. Next up was Jessie, who wanted to be sure to be right behind a car who knew exactly where it was going. Behind Jessie was me. Behind me, Amanda, and behind Amanda, Charlene - the caboose who also knew the way home and would follow us. If the chain were to break, she would take over the lead and we'd follow behind. It really was a beautiful plan. Except for one thing. We were in Doha. It was dark. The only car with a working cell phone AND a map was the lead car. Dumb. Did I say that already?
At some point, at some roundabout, our caboose had a brilliant idea (it really was brilliant - if only the train wreck she was guiding would have been smart enough to figure it out). She was going to pass us, flank the roundabout, and we would zip in front of her, she'd fall back behind, and we'd continue our beautiful caravan. Only none of us saw her pass. We lost our lead car. And we ended up on some side road without a map or a cell phone to right our wrong. I stepped up to the plate (dumb) and announced to the other two girls that I had some idea where we were and I could get us home. Really? Really. I typically have a good sense of direction and can feel my way home. Not unlike the visual telepathy Doha drivers use to predict the next move of oncoming traffic simply through eye contact. I could feel our way home. I was sure of it. My fried Megan had nicknamed me the Blood Hound because I could find my way to any given establishment in downtown Bend. Maybe I shouldn't have admitted that online. Downtown Bend and Doha are two very different beasts.
Onward we went. I confidently grabbed the steering wheel, gave myself a little pep talk that may or may not have been done out loud, and drove into the Doha night. And drove. And drove. And drove. And pulled over. And pulled over. And pulled over. And panicked. Maybe freaked. Maybe cried. There may have been profanity. We may have been heading to Saudi Arabia. These are all just possible scenarios. Shall we end it here and make it like a choose your own adventure? We may as well.
At one point I heard my dying cell phone bee-beep "So glad we all made it home! We are awesome! Look at us navigate our way through the city like pros - and even in the dark! Everyone home?" Great! They didn't even know they lost us. I text back a resounding "NOOO!" and then the spinning white wheel of doom appeared and boom. My iphone was dead. Three girls. Three cars. Not one map. Not one working phone. Dumb.
That one word text was enough to send the caravan that did make it home into a tizzy. In their cars they hopped to try to come and find us. Go ahead and download a street map of Doha. It's not an easy map to follow even if one was smart enough to have one in their new rented car. There are street names, but whoever built these roads thought it'd be more fun *not* to put street signs up to go with the names. And the roundabout names - oh, on the map they have names, but in real life they are referred to as 'television roundabout', 'Burger King roundabout' (which would be great if there weren't about 1089 Burger Kings here), 'headless turkey roundabout'. I may have made some of those up, but I'm pretty sure I didn't. Needless to say - finding us in Doha would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. I kept driving. Those poor, unfortunate souls kept following, and all we did was get more and more lost. The director of our school was called. Our boss was called. People were standing on corners looking for us to wave us down if we were to pass. It was a fiasco.
A fiasco that lasted until about 9:30pm when I finally spotted a college. I knew, if nothing else, there'd be a security guard there who could let us use his phone. And there was. We finally found help and were guided safely back home, where we landed around 10pm. The. longest. day. of. my. life.
I'll let Dr. Seuss finish this one off for me...
"I jumped up behind him. Then all through that day
The Wubble wubbed on in a wubble-some way.
The road got more rocky, more bumpy, more tricky
By midnight, I tell you, my stomach felt icky.
And so I said, "Mister, please, when do we get
To that wonderful town? Aren't we almost there yet?
"Young fellow," he told me, "don't start in to stew.
At sunrise, we'll drive into Solla Sollew
And you'll have no more troubles. I promise. I do."
..."I'd have no more troubles...
That's what the man said.
So I started to go.
But I didn't.
Instead...
I did some quick thinking
Inside of my head.
Then I started back home
To the Valley of Vung.
I know I'd have troubles.
I'll, maybe, get stung.
I'll always have troubles.
I'll, maybe, get bit.
By that Green-Headed Quail
On the place where I sit.
But I've bought a big bat.
I'm all ready, you see.
Now my troubles are going
to have troubles with me!"
I also now am the proud new owner of a cell phone charger for my car and a map of Doha. Smart.
