The struggles of being a single female in Doha

Being a woman is tough. In and of itself. I don't think this needs much explanation, and to anybody confused by this statement: why are you even reading my blog? Seriously...

Being a woman in Doha is even more difficult. In a country where the sex ratio is 2.00 males/females (and 2.47 males/females in the 15-64 age range), you can actually feel your own presence as a woman wherever you go. What do I mean by this? I mean that in a strictly numeric sense, women stick out in this country. Seeing a woman is not as common as seeing a man, and therefore it's often a noticeable event. In a country where the vast majority of foreign workers are males (think: construction industry, drivers, manual labor, etc.) who have left behind their families and often their wives so that they can make a living, it's sometimes painfully annoying to be a woman.

For example, when I leave the house, I know I'm going to be stared at. Let me also clarify, that it doesn't matter what I'm wearing. I could be dressed like a stereotypical American, a vanilla hijabi, or be wearing a big black abaya and I will be stared at no matter what. I repeat, it does not matter what clothing I choose to wear, the staring is constant. I'm not just talking about being stared at by the hordes of male students who gather to smoke at the door right by office, I'm talking about standing in the grocery store trying to decide which pasta sauce to buy, only to look over and realize some guy on the other end of the aisle is undressing you with his eyes. I'm talking about going to a fully professional foreign policy event at a notable think tank and getting eye-f****d by the guy across the hall. I'm not trying to channel "damsel in distress" here, I've seen and heard this happen to every single one of my female friends as well, Qatari and non-Qatari.

When I first came to Doha I thought it odd how many of the Qatari women were closeted, and not that enthusiastic about going out in public or public events. While I initially thought it was exemplary of what so many in the west choose to call the "subjugation of women" in the region (ie suppressing their presence in public life) I now totally get it. I've been here only a little over a year, and already I'm starting to get fed up and frustrated with the way that women are devoured and coveted by the male population here. I'd so much rather stay home so much of the time.

To be clear, and also to dispel the myth of the sex-crazed Qatari male chasing after western women, I have personally been stared at, harassed, hit on, followed, tailgated and flirted/hollered at by every nationality under the sun. From Indians to Qataris, Egyptians, Khaleejis, Africans and even other westerners. The only commonality amongst these guys is simply that: they are all men.

I've been able to handle and deal with this as most women here are forced to do, but there are always those certain events that really put things into perspective. This past week the biggest story in the Doha scene is that of Lauren Patterson: a 24-year-old British primary school teacher living in Doha who was murdered (allegedly by two Qatari males, though this remains unconfirmed), and whose body was burned beyond recognition out in the desert. This is unprecedented in Doha, though the event does come about a year after another European female teacher was murdered by a (Kenyan) security guard. Of course, these things don't happen often in Qatar. These events are so rare here, and really we are lucky to live in a country that is, for the most part, incredibly safe.

This said, it really shakes me a bit to hear the story of Lauren. I can guarantee that every single female expat in Doha (and even the married ones when away from their husbands) has felt what I have talked about previously. I myself have had a handful of times where I've actually felt genuinely nervous or scared because of the approaches, actions, or words of a male (whether a friend, acquaintance, or some random guy in the grocery store). What I'm trying to say is that while the case of Lauren Patterson is obviously an extreme act committed by some seriously MESSED up guys, but it is also symptomatic of the gender dynamic in Qatar. We females are always on guard, and hearing stories like this just makes us even more nervous, and raise our guard just a little bit more.

I honestly can't think of a proper solution for this problem off the top of my head. My only recommendation would be for the government to possibly make it easier for expatriates to bring their families and/or wives (but of course, then here you run into the problem that the government doesn't actually WANT to encourage family life/settlement here). Really, the gender ratio should be more equal, and the half-assed segregation of so many places should really stop. I see this all the time at Qatar University: half-assed gender segregation gone wrong. It's one thing to have an area be strictly male, or for it to be fully integrated. But having a male area that is open to females should they want/need to go there makes the presence of any female in said area a noteworthy (hint: stare-worthy) event.

How do you males think this makes us feel? Yes, in your mind you can't miss the opportunity to hit on this female creature that has just crossed your path; while in our minds, you're just the 15th guy to whistle, "tss tss", or holler at us on our way to work. Seriously. Just stop. STOP.

This isn't to say that I feel unsafe in Doha at all. Far from it. Doha is one of the safest places I've ever been in, for sure. But if left unchecked, this sex ratio imbalance and the annoyance it breeds amongst resident and local females will continue to rise and threaten the general livelihood of women in Qatar. To be sure, it is the state of society and NOT a government policy of "repressing women"that is to blame here.

The best solution is with you, men! Simply: STOP STARING! Walk on by! Don't harass us at every traffic light! Don't follow us home! Don't stalk us in the grocery store! Don't softly whistle or "tss tss" us as we walk by! For serious, people! Just leave us be on our daily business. We are exactly like you, save some of our anatomy.

Ok, that's all for now. Apologies if it was super "rant-ish" but I just had to get it out of my system...

Peace & love always <3

"Gulfishness": 10 months of Doha in review

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

Five Reasons Why I'm Dangerous: Inspired by Bahrain

"You gotta snap some collars and let them motherfuckers know you here to take them out anytime you feel like it! You gotta get the ground beneath your feet, partner, get the wind behind your back and go out in a blaze if you got to! Otherwise you ain't shit! You might as well be dead your damn self!"

- Tupac as Bishop in Juice (1992)

After having finished my first semester of graduate school successfully, I was planning on cutting out on responsibility entirely. I decided that before heading back home to Colorado to see my family and catch up on some other quintessential Colorado activities, I would take 24 hours to visit neighboring Bahrain and spend some time with an old friend. For those who aren't aware, Bahrain now has mandatory security checks for first time visitors to the tiny Persian Gulf country. Your passports are shuffled off into a sketchy back-room where they are scrutinized carefully by security goons. By all appearances, they simply plug your name into Google and see what it spits out. If you're not too offensive in any way: *stamp* welcome to Bahrain. But for those of us who don't know how to keep our mouths shut, it's a bit more exciting. 

After 3 hours of waiting in a security corral, I was eventually asked to go into said sketchy back-room and talk to the head goon. He informed me that my name had been flagged by immigration upon the initial security screening. After a series of secondary security checks, they decided that I was a "national security threat" and they could not issue me a visa to enter the country. I pulled all the strings in my arsenal yet eventually conceded defeat, and flew back to Doha 6 hours after arriving.

Fullstop. Me? 

Why would anybody even care about stupid ol' Maria Hardman? I mean... I'm kind of a bad ass and all, but last I checked, a lack of badassery wasn't a precondition for visiting Bahrain. Am I right? And yet, I feel as if anyone who gets denied entry to Bahrain must be doing something right. But does my tiny little voice, amplified solely by modern technological marvels, carry any weight at all? This got me onto a whole existentialist mind-track where I started questioning all of my actions since arriving in Doha.

Since having arrived back in Colorado, I've had plenty of time to drink green tea, sing Kumbaya, go skiing, and not shave my legs... It's given me plenty of time to become one with the Buddha and gag on clouds of Nag Champa incense. I've since solved all of the world's problems, naturally, and have new insight into why I would be a danger not just to the Bahraini government, but to any government or institution that doesn't like people who don't keep their mouths shut (I sincerely apologize for that sentence).

Reason #1: I see this world as impermanent

After spending a few hours doing yoga and "getting in touch with my inner goddess" (wherever the fuck she may be), I realized how much my body has deteriorated since being in Doha. Stretching out my joints I realized how brittle my own body really is... This is true for all of us, not just pudgy Maria. 

This body is but flesh and bone, and will stay and rot on this earth forever. That's some dark shit. But it's true. No matter what you try to do (unless you're cremated I suppose), all of those little atoms that you're made of will break down, decay, and rejoin with other atoms. Your body will cease to exist. That's the reality of it. But the mind, not just your mind, but the collective human consciousness will live on, as long as there are humans to think. 

I perceive this tangible world to be just as impermanent as our own bodies. That could make me dangerous for many reasons, especially for my unwillingness to abide by the rules of materiality. 

Reason #2: I don't keep my mouth shut

In grade school - up until I turned 12 and all hormonal hell broke loose - I was always that kid that would go "tattle" to the teacher. Yeah, I admit it: I was a little bitch. That spirit carried on, and I got busted/suspended/caught so many times growing up just because I didn't know when to pipe down.

It is for this reason that social media is a bad idea for people like me. I spare no details on my twitter feed. There are Youtube videos I wish I could edit the crap out of. These kinds of details and ramblings are probably what got me kicked out of Bahrain in the first place, but I don't know if I'll ever stop belting them out. What good is experience if it's not shared? Why should I censor my own true sentiments? Thanks to my rodeo-going, ice-cream eating, instant gratification getting American upbringing I'm a firm believer in the freedom of speech and the idiot's right to say anything stupid he so desires.

I'll continue to live by this. Keep it in mind. There are times you will wish you hadn't been listening while I abuse my First Amendment rights.

Reason #3: I call bullshit

If I see bullshit, I'll call it. I firmly believe in standing up for those who cannot stand up for themselves. It is a core belief of mine that we are all equal, and we are all the same, and I will not stand by to watch somebody trample over others out of self interest. I've gotten myself into trouble a number of times for pointing out general stupidity, although it never goes well for me. I have a deep belief that the exploitation of any human being is wrong, yet sadly this is not a belief I share with much of the rest of the world. I challenge you all to call the bullshit.

Reason #4: I see no differences between people

OK, yes, this is a bit cynical. But seriously! I get this more in Doha than in Colorado, but this is true of any place I believe. I honestly don't know why, but people are hierarchical in any social setting. I think this is a part of human nature (and I'm sure I do it too); a person's entire being should not be measured by their worldly status. This goes not only for race, gender, sex, and all those other PC terms, but also for wealth, education, past, etc. I see no difference between myself and the Nepali cleaners that wipe down my desk at QU every day. I do not discount the friendly Kenyan barista at my neighborhood cafe to be any less than myself; the same way I see intimidating intellectual bigwigs as my human equals.

Don't get me wrong, respect the differences between people - that's what makes us so damn interesting. But don't ever think that you are valued more or less than any other human beings on this earth. We are all equal, and that pisses some people off.

Reason #5: I want to stir the proverbial pot

I'm not exactly sure when it started, but whenever somebody would ask adolescent Maria what she wanted to do when she grew up, the response was "I'm going to save the world". That's still my answer today when anybody asks what I plan to do after I get my MA. The truth is, I have no idea what I want to do, just as long as I can do something somewhere that makes a difference to someone, I'll be happy.

If I have to stir a pot, I'll stir it with a vengeance.

It's for all of these reasons that I: Maria Hardman, could be perceived as dangerous to any government or institution that does not know how to deal with people that can't keep their mouths shut. As long as people can tolerate a crazy Muslim hippie from the mountains of Colorado transplanted to the modern Persian Gulf, all is well.

It's only when you try to shut off my bullhorn that I start to get really pissed.

Peace and love always <3