Same Same Only Different

When Chris returned from Thailand a few years ago, he told me about the phrase, "Same, same, only different." It's what the Thai say to explain something that is, well, the same - only different. That's a bit how I am feeling about Doha right now. It possesses much of the same characteristics of the West, only different. Sort of.

We drive on the same side of the road here, except the roads are punctuated with a plethora of roundabouts, and u-turns are common. The driving is aggressive and fast, and there is a zero tolerance law for drinking and driving (meaning an automatic fine and definite jail time). Only people in the front seat have to wear seatbelts, there are many SUV's, and the locals get annoyed with the non-Qataris. So it's the same, only different.

The school, The American School of Doha, offers an "enriched American curriculum" to its students and has many of the same sports as any American school. These sport teams may travel to Cairo or Kuwait or Bahrain for tournaments, but they are still kids dressed in handsome uniforms playing their best game. It also has, however, three swimming pools, a gym the size of Xtreme Fitness, small class sizes (I have one class of 20 and three classes of 16), fabulous technology resources, two libraries, art programs for all students, and one counselor for every two grades. It is one of the top international schools on the planet and my kids get to go there!!! Sorry, I just had to throw that in . . .

Doha has a Dairy Queen. And a Chili's. And KFC, H&M, Prada, Haagen-Dazs, McDonald's, and Starbucks. Same, same. Very different from the island.

One thing that is truly different about our life here so far is having a nanny. She lives with us five days every week (Sunday-Thursday) then goes home to her husband on the weekends (Friday and Saturday). She has already done more ironing in two days than I have done in my entire life, cleans the house, and does the laundry. She has already proved to be resourceful and a bargain shoppper. We went shopping for provisions and she let me know which soap, rice, and brooms were the best deal. Food shopping, by the way, is fun. I love seeing all the different food items from different countries and not knowing exactly what every item is. I loved seeing Eden Organic Sauerkraut on the shelf next to a jar of an unkown pickled vegetable. There is a large Indian grocery store I want to explore called the Lulu Hypermarket. It looks enormous from the road and its name alone is enticing. Tomorrow we are going to the Museum of Islamic Art and the old souk.

I have to address the issue of jet lag before I wrap up this post. It has been, by far, the most difficult obstacle since arriving (more than seeing the local women in their abayas, more than the heat). For the first week I felt like I had a newborn baby in the house. I was awake at 3 AM, craving a nap by 9, struggling to keep my eyes open at 6 PM, and forcing myself to stay awake until 10 because someone (Nolan) needed to eat. The exhaustion was exacerbated by the tiny but irritating knot of queasiness I carried in my stomach for the first six days. Am I sick? Did I contract some awful illness on the flight? Am I pregnant? No, no, no, I realized, I am simply stressed and nervous. What could I possibly be stressed and nervous about? Uprooting my family to move to Qatar? Knowing that my first year teaching is at the top school in the Middle East and wanting desperately to do well? Oh yeah, that. And knowing I am so very far away from everyone and everything my family has known. And feeling so very tired.

Now that it is the weekend and we have kicked jet lag's sorry biscuits, we are going to check out the beach (same), hit the playground (same), then order in some Turkish food (different) while we set up Skype - just another Friday in Doha.