Doha Days (1)
Ever thought of taking Arabic lessons in Qatar from a Sudanese whose first language is Nubian? That’s what I do for 30 minutes each day, and a pleasant experience it is, sandwiched between endless cups of coffee, games of Scrabble and chats with the two English women who share my hut. Work, can’t beat it. We are told that students may arrive sometime this month, inshallah, but meanwhile…
There’s a bird nesting on the ledge of my bedroom window. It’s sitting on two blue-ish eggs surrounded by a straggly nest of what looks like multi-coloured wire. What the bird is I have no idea; I have seen a lot of sparrows here but it isn’t one of those.
Went for a drive yesterday to the one shop in the country that sells booze. Located off a dusty road on the outskirts of the city (ironically next door to the Ministry of Islamic Affairs), you need a special licence even to enter the car park. I don’t have this yet, but the person who drove me did, and I came away with a bottle of Gordon’s and a Chablis. Prawns fried in garlic and soy sauce with the latter for dinner; life is now complete and blissful.