I will never be able to understand how and why my parents decided to support me when I told them I was going to move to Doha. Honestly.
Looking back now at Maria one year ago today, she had just graduated from the University of Colorado at Boulder fresh with a BA in International Affairs and a minor in Political Science. Determined to change the world, she was building castles in the sky out of farfetched plans to move half way around the world. Chihuahua in hand. On July 7th 2012, I was notified that I had been admitted to Qatar University's MA in Gulf Studies program. A few weeks later, my plane ticket had been bought and I had absolutely NO plans for after my plane landed in Doha. Fresh off the plane: I knew nobody in the country, had no place to stay, about $500 to my name, and a doped-up chihuahua.
Somehow, I ended up in a small and dirty apartment in the ghetto of Doha, following all the instructions I was given by QU. The first few months I was in Doha, I worked my ass off. Not only was I taking a full load of my very first graduate classes, I landed a graduate assistantship with the Gulf Studies Program that ended up funding the rest of my stay, and I also scored an internship at a prestigious policy institution. Seriously not bad for a girl who, 6 weeks prior had been slinging hay bails as a dude ranch wrangler outside of Estes Park, Colorado.
Honestly, I had no idea what I was doing and no idea what I was getting into. I ended up surviving my first semester (if barely), feeling like I'd just finished the Imogene Pass 18 miler in under 4 hours.
Second semester was, believe it or not, much more of a whirlwind. After having survived and worked my ass off the first semester, I was able to reap some of the benefits of having penetrated the underbelly of the Gulf Studies academic circle.
Gulfishness sucks you up. At least, it sucked me up. Before I even knew what was happening, I had already been branded, labeled, and locked in to my position. When I still thought of myself as a "nobody" I had already been blacklisted from Bahrain and drawn attention from activists in Canada, Pakistan, and Malaysia (not to mention a healthy crop of dissidents in the Gulf).
In this strange Gulfish system, a person is defined less by what they have done or accomplished, and more by who they are associated with. Who you know is who you are. In the Gulfish way, I am far more than just a grad student burn-out with an adolescent, ranting blog. To the Gulfie, I am tightly wound up in the Gulf studies academic circle, associating with radical academics banned from more than one Gulf state. More than just a pissed off blogger, I'm a possible American spy, who has interned with a US policy institution accused by many a nervous government of inciting unrest.
In all honesty, I really am a nobody. Gulfies really shouldn't be nervous of me, and if they are, its a reflection of their own insecurities. I'm just an eager student with an internet connection (and the world's cutest chihuahua to keep me company), ready to tout my bullhorn and make a ruckus.
I have a Guy Fawkes mask hanging on my wall, but it gathers dust. It hangs in my living room between a giant painting of Imam Ali Rezza and a Mexican paraffin candle sporting La Virgen de Guadalupe. I live always by my revolutionary principles, but being a nobody, they remain safely confined to my living room and my blog. I have accomplished nothing of great worth or note, and I remain a self-proclaimed "nobody". Despite this, I am so much more of a "somebody" based on the people that I know. That is the essence of Gulfishness. Proximity to greatness amounts to worth in the Gulfish way.
For now, I still have yet to do anything of note. I'm biding my time, riding the tides of Gulfishness that inadvertently swept me up. For sure, I'm enjoying the ride, and the hippie in me wants to just sit back and go with the flow. I can continue to comply with Gulfishness simply by continuing my associations, I would never have to lift a finger to get somewhere or be somebody. Just ride the Gulfie tides....
That's not me, though. And honestly, to hell with Gulfishness. While I'm not saying I don't appreciate the prestige of my associations, I'd much prefer to make a ruckus on my bullhorn, and continue to scream and shout in my corner until I do something of consequence; enough for people to get pissed off and take note.
While I look around my (insanely dirty) apartment and start to speculate what I'll take back to the States with me for the summer, I realize how far I've come in the past ten months - and how crazily far I have yet to go. As I said, I've just barely scratched the underbelly of this strange, socio-political-academic monster, and I intend to work my way through to its small intestine (so that I can make it shit on command).
I still have one year of graduate school left and a thesis to write in order to be conferred my MA in Gulf Studies. After this, I have a ridiculously good shot at being admitted to a handful of prestigious schools in the UK to get my PhD, if I so desire. Can you imagine? A pissed off, nobody, ganja-loving, white-South-African-American-Shia convert with a PhD before the age of 25? Yeah, hard for me to wrap my head around too.
For now, I plan on packing up my cheerful apartment in Doha and heading back to a beautiful Colorado summer that's calling my name. I plan on being highly irresponsible, indulging in some vices, and reading way too many books about the Gulf. I'm sure I'll periodically assault you lovely people with more blog posts, maybe even taking a nostalgic political platform reminiscent of Justin Gengler's "Religion and Politics in Bahrain". Yeah. I wish. I am far too lazy, and far too much of a nobody for that.
Peace and love always <3
Looking back now at Maria one year ago today, she had just graduated from the University of Colorado at Boulder fresh with a BA in International Affairs and a minor in Political Science. Determined to change the world, she was building castles in the sky out of farfetched plans to move half way around the world. Chihuahua in hand. On July 7th 2012, I was notified that I had been admitted to Qatar University's MA in Gulf Studies program. A few weeks later, my plane ticket had been bought and I had absolutely NO plans for after my plane landed in Doha. Fresh off the plane: I knew nobody in the country, had no place to stay, about $500 to my name, and a doped-up chihuahua.
Somehow, I ended up in a small and dirty apartment in the ghetto of Doha, following all the instructions I was given by QU. The first few months I was in Doha, I worked my ass off. Not only was I taking a full load of my very first graduate classes, I landed a graduate assistantship with the Gulf Studies Program that ended up funding the rest of my stay, and I also scored an internship at a prestigious policy institution. Seriously not bad for a girl who, 6 weeks prior had been slinging hay bails as a dude ranch wrangler outside of Estes Park, Colorado.
Honestly, I had no idea what I was doing and no idea what I was getting into. I ended up surviving my first semester (if barely), feeling like I'd just finished the Imogene Pass 18 miler in under 4 hours.
Second semester was, believe it or not, much more of a whirlwind. After having survived and worked my ass off the first semester, I was able to reap some of the benefits of having penetrated the underbelly of the Gulf Studies academic circle.
Gulfishness sucks you up. At least, it sucked me up. Before I even knew what was happening, I had already been branded, labeled, and locked in to my position. When I still thought of myself as a "nobody" I had already been blacklisted from Bahrain and drawn attention from activists in Canada, Pakistan, and Malaysia (not to mention a healthy crop of dissidents in the Gulf).
In this strange Gulfish system, a person is defined less by what they have done or accomplished, and more by who they are associated with. Who you know is who you are. In the Gulfish way, I am far more than just a grad student burn-out with an adolescent, ranting blog. To the Gulfie, I am tightly wound up in the Gulf studies academic circle, associating with radical academics banned from more than one Gulf state. More than just a pissed off blogger, I'm a possible American spy, who has interned with a US policy institution accused by many a nervous government of inciting unrest.
In all honesty, I really am a nobody. Gulfies really shouldn't be nervous of me, and if they are, its a reflection of their own insecurities. I'm just an eager student with an internet connection (and the world's cutest chihuahua to keep me company), ready to tout my bullhorn and make a ruckus.
I have a Guy Fawkes mask hanging on my wall, but it gathers dust. It hangs in my living room between a giant painting of Imam Ali Rezza and a Mexican paraffin candle sporting La Virgen de Guadalupe. I live always by my revolutionary principles, but being a nobody, they remain safely confined to my living room and my blog. I have accomplished nothing of great worth or note, and I remain a self-proclaimed "nobody". Despite this, I am so much more of a "somebody" based on the people that I know. That is the essence of Gulfishness. Proximity to greatness amounts to worth in the Gulfish way.
For now, I still have yet to do anything of note. I'm biding my time, riding the tides of Gulfishness that inadvertently swept me up. For sure, I'm enjoying the ride, and the hippie in me wants to just sit back and go with the flow. I can continue to comply with Gulfishness simply by continuing my associations, I would never have to lift a finger to get somewhere or be somebody. Just ride the Gulfie tides....
That's not me, though. And honestly, to hell with Gulfishness. While I'm not saying I don't appreciate the prestige of my associations, I'd much prefer to make a ruckus on my bullhorn, and continue to scream and shout in my corner until I do something of consequence; enough for people to get pissed off and take note.
While I look around my (insanely dirty) apartment and start to speculate what I'll take back to the States with me for the summer, I realize how far I've come in the past ten months - and how crazily far I have yet to go. As I said, I've just barely scratched the underbelly of this strange, socio-political-academic monster, and I intend to work my way through to its small intestine (so that I can make it shit on command).
I still have one year of graduate school left and a thesis to write in order to be conferred my MA in Gulf Studies. After this, I have a ridiculously good shot at being admitted to a handful of prestigious schools in the UK to get my PhD, if I so desire. Can you imagine? A pissed off, nobody, ganja-loving, white-South-African-American-Shia convert with a PhD before the age of 25? Yeah, hard for me to wrap my head around too.
For now, I plan on packing up my cheerful apartment in Doha and heading back to a beautiful Colorado summer that's calling my name. I plan on being highly irresponsible, indulging in some vices, and reading way too many books about the Gulf. I'm sure I'll periodically assault you lovely people with more blog posts, maybe even taking a nostalgic political platform reminiscent of Justin Gengler's "Religion and Politics in Bahrain". Yeah. I wish. I am far too lazy, and far too much of a nobody for that.
Peace and love always <3
