I remember the first time that I got out of Doha city on my own in search of something other than concrete and glass. I wanted to find something - anything - resembling nature. I had just got my first rental car, a tiny little blue Chevy Sonic. The car was literally brand new, and just too cute. I had decided to go and try to find the mangrove swamps south of Wakrah, as I had read it was a good place to go walking with your dog. My poor little chihuahua, Farrah, had been cooped up for months never getting out of the apartment (as had I)...
So I did the best that I could to find these swamps, though the best set of directions I could find didn't count for the fact that a massive, deep-sea port was in the process of being planned and executed just off the coast. That fact still depresses me, though to be honest I have to say the Qatari press has done a pretty good job hushing that story. I haven't heard any negative press about it recently. You can, however, find the last story Doha News published on the project. Ironically, you can also find information linking the mangroves south of Wakrah to the Qatar Foundation's "Mapping the Mangroves" initiative, a partnership with international mangroves monitoring authorities which espouse the protection and conservation of the world's mangrove sites. You can also find links to some very sexy videos from the New Port Project website that appear to show some swanky looking QU students (if I'm not mistaken) getting a pretty sweet overview of this super-awesome-fun-time new mega-port project that's going forward.
When I think back to my first visit there it's hard not to laugh. While my directions hadn't taken into account that a massive, massive construction site was just getting underway at the time, they were also from another era entirely. Ok, I happened to read Cities of Salt earlier this year, and it's hard for me not to think of Doha in terms of Harran sometimes. When I first visited the mangroves south of Wakrah, the site of the new mega-port project, I remember being totally over the moon about finally being somewhere where I felt like I could breathe again. My little chihuahua could walk around a bit (though she's always been totally terrified of large bodies of water), and I could walk for a few kilometers at least in what felt like honest-to-god nature. I came across Qataris camping, other Westerners like myself kicking back on the beach at sunset on a camping chair. I passed by a tiny coast guard station that must have been built in the last half of the 19th century, potentially one of the oldest relics of modern Qatar. This wasn't just an abandoned patch of lands where expats could walk their dogs, it was a place that had a history - however brief.
On my first trip to the mangroves, in my tiny little Sonic, I was too nervous to venture off of the roads established by what I now realize was the New Port planning authority, so I just chucked it on the side of one of the roads on which the big yellow dragons rumble around, and walked the last 300 yards to the distinctive Coast Guard station tree on foot, my chihuahua chomping at the bit. I laugh, because when I'd finally returned to my car I had an angry Palestinian supervisor waiting to breathe down my neck when I got back. Though he was clearly softened because I was a strange looking blue-eyed female wearing a Pakistani dubatta and walking a little brown chihuahua, he made it clear that I was a dumbass for parking my car where I had. Looking back I know it was a stupid move, and I was stupid to try and go there with such a tiny car.
I smile and tell myself I would never do something like that again. Partly because I feel like I've grown up and am a bit more realistic about those sorts of things, but also partly because maybe I've lost a little bit of the foolhardiness that even brought me here in the first place; though that's a door I don't really want to open.
But then I also realize that I can't do that again, and the places where something like that are even possible in Qatar are rapidly disappearing. I've been to Al Dhakira Mangroves too (the ones just north of Al Khor around Purple Island), and they rock. Yes, they are also covered in trash, and rubbish, and litter. It's disgusting. I encourage you all to check out I <3 Qatar's mangrove cleanup initiative on the 30th of this month if you can.
But I'm not just talking about mangroves here. Qatar's being eaten up. By multi-billion dollar development projects, by capitalism more generally. It's remarkable how fluid identity is here. What it means to be Qatari, and what Qatar stands for seem to change from year to year. It's amazing how cohesive the country remains as a national entity, and yet how dramatically flexible the definitions of "Qatar" and "Qatari" can be. I'm not trying to be critical in the slightest, I'm just commenting on observations, and to a certain extent I'm actually genuinely impressed at Qatari resilience. By all means, keep on keeping on.
But please, do try to rediscover your roots a bit. We can all benefit from some careful introspection and a reexamination of the things that are important to us. Don't let your priorities by dictated by anyone other than YOU, my friends, and remember to never take anything at face-value. Yes, the government here is popular, and yes, I'll take an al Thani over an al Khalifa or al Maktoum any day of the week, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't remember to hold your leaders accountable to the highest moral standards of conduct. This sort of balance between ruler and ruled that you've got goin' on here can work, but sometimes you've got to shake the branches a bit to make sure they're still sturdy.
Branches, mangroves,... HA. So here we meet again. I guess all I'm trying to say is that really, the Qatari government should take a larger stake in the preservation of what little natural environments, and natural history sites that it has. There really are some diamonds in the rough to be found on this sandy little peninsula, but sometimes I feel like I need to visit them all tomorrow, lest they become the unhappy targets of Qatar's next big economic development plan. So help us God.
We could all use just a little bit more nature in our lives.
Peace & love always <3
When I think back to my first visit there it's hard not to laugh. While my directions hadn't taken into account that a massive, massive construction site was just getting underway at the time, they were also from another era entirely. Ok, I happened to read Cities of Salt earlier this year, and it's hard for me not to think of Doha in terms of Harran sometimes. When I first visited the mangroves south of Wakrah, the site of the new mega-port project, I remember being totally over the moon about finally being somewhere where I felt like I could breathe again. My little chihuahua could walk around a bit (though she's always been totally terrified of large bodies of water), and I could walk for a few kilometers at least in what felt like honest-to-god nature. I came across Qataris camping, other Westerners like myself kicking back on the beach at sunset on a camping chair. I passed by a tiny coast guard station that must have been built in the last half of the 19th century, potentially one of the oldest relics of modern Qatar. This wasn't just an abandoned patch of lands where expats could walk their dogs, it was a place that had a history - however brief.
On my first trip to the mangroves, in my tiny little Sonic, I was too nervous to venture off of the roads established by what I now realize was the New Port planning authority, so I just chucked it on the side of one of the roads on which the big yellow dragons rumble around, and walked the last 300 yards to the distinctive Coast Guard station tree on foot, my chihuahua chomping at the bit. I laugh, because when I'd finally returned to my car I had an angry Palestinian supervisor waiting to breathe down my neck when I got back. Though he was clearly softened because I was a strange looking blue-eyed female wearing a Pakistani dubatta and walking a little brown chihuahua, he made it clear that I was a dumbass for parking my car where I had. Looking back I know it was a stupid move, and I was stupid to try and go there with such a tiny car.
I smile and tell myself I would never do something like that again. Partly because I feel like I've grown up and am a bit more realistic about those sorts of things, but also partly because maybe I've lost a little bit of the foolhardiness that even brought me here in the first place; though that's a door I don't really want to open.
But then I also realize that I can't do that again, and the places where something like that are even possible in Qatar are rapidly disappearing. I've been to Al Dhakira Mangroves too (the ones just north of Al Khor around Purple Island), and they rock. Yes, they are also covered in trash, and rubbish, and litter. It's disgusting. I encourage you all to check out I <3 Qatar's mangrove cleanup initiative on the 30th of this month if you can.
But I'm not just talking about mangroves here. Qatar's being eaten up. By multi-billion dollar development projects, by capitalism more generally. It's remarkable how fluid identity is here. What it means to be Qatari, and what Qatar stands for seem to change from year to year. It's amazing how cohesive the country remains as a national entity, and yet how dramatically flexible the definitions of "Qatar" and "Qatari" can be. I'm not trying to be critical in the slightest, I'm just commenting on observations, and to a certain extent I'm actually genuinely impressed at Qatari resilience. By all means, keep on keeping on.
But please, do try to rediscover your roots a bit. We can all benefit from some careful introspection and a reexamination of the things that are important to us. Don't let your priorities by dictated by anyone other than YOU, my friends, and remember to never take anything at face-value. Yes, the government here is popular, and yes, I'll take an al Thani over an al Khalifa or al Maktoum any day of the week, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't remember to hold your leaders accountable to the highest moral standards of conduct. This sort of balance between ruler and ruled that you've got goin' on here can work, but sometimes you've got to shake the branches a bit to make sure they're still sturdy.
Branches, mangroves,... HA. So here we meet again. I guess all I'm trying to say is that really, the Qatari government should take a larger stake in the preservation of what little natural environments, and natural history sites that it has. There really are some diamonds in the rough to be found on this sandy little peninsula, but sometimes I feel like I need to visit them all tomorrow, lest they become the unhappy targets of Qatar's next big economic development plan. So help us God.
We could all use just a little bit more nature in our lives.
