Rachel Hajar's Blog: My Life in Doha, page 2
February 12, 2022
ZMAJEVI STIŽU U LAZAREVAC: Kolubara dočekuje Voždovac na startu prolećnog dela sezone!. Jaki zglobovi
Zglobovi kao novi
Posle gotovo dva meseca pauze, nastavlja se domaće prvenstvo. Fudbaleri Voždovca prvi meč igraju u nedelju od 17 časova protiv Kolubare.
Tim iz Lazarevca trenutno je na 12. poziciji na tabeli sa 23 osvojena boda, dok su Zmajevi na šestom mestu sa 29. U prvom delu sezone, meč na Krovu završen je rezultatom 2:0 u korist domaćina.
Iako na papiru beogradski tim važi za favorita, šef struke Zmajeva oprezan je pred prvi duel u nastavku sezone.
-Siguran sam da će iz trenerskog i igračkog ugla meč biti zahtevan i težak. Uvek su te prve utakmice, bilo u jesenjem ili prolećnom delu sezone, specifične i nose dodatnu tenziju i opterećenje. Ipak, verujem da ako odigramo sa odgovarajućom energijom, dobar meč i rezultat neće izostati rekao je Aleksandar Linta, a potom se osvrnuo i na uslove za igru i ulogu favorita na papiru.
-Imamo dovoljno iskustva da se prilagodimo svim uslovima igre, ali naravno da naše taktičke zamisli i planove prilagođavamo i tome. Uloga favorita je nezahvalana i ponekad jako precenjena. Ako izuzmemo Partizan i Zvezdu, timovi su veoma izjednačeni i nijanse odlučuju, što naravno i stanje na tabeli potvrđuje. Ne želim previše da se bavim protivnikom, fokusirani smo na sebe. Naša najveća snaga je tim, zajedništvo, dobar ambijent i atmosfera…. I naravno igra – poručio je Linta.
Meč između Kolubare i Voždovca na programu je u nedelju od 17 časova na stadionu u Lazarevcu, a televizija Arena Sport će na svom Premium 2 kanalu direktno prenositi ovaj duel.
The post ZMAJEVI STIŽU U LAZAREVAC: Kolubara dočekuje Voždovac na startu prolećnog dela sezone!. Jaki zglobovi appeared first on Aegaut.
Reprezentacija BiH poražena na startu kvalifikacija. Zglobovi su čvrsti kao i prije
Želite jake zglobove
Na startu kvalifikacija za Svjetsko prvenstvo u košarci za žene, naša reprezentacija je poražena rezultatom 96:64.
Protivnik je bila reprezentacija Kanada, koja je bila favorit uoči ove utakmice. Na kraju su Kanađanke bile prejake. Kanada je iznenađujuće izgubila u prvom meču naše grupe od domaćeg Japana.
Jutros su u prvoj četvrtini Kanađanke imale prednost 30:19. U drugoj je to povećano na 57:36. Naša reprezentacija je i u narednoj četvrtini bila u zaostatku. Rezultat je glasio 76:52.
Najefikasnija je bila Nikolina Babić sa 16 poena, dok je Jonquel Jones upisala jedan poen manje.
Naredna utakmica reprezentaciju Bosne i Hercegovine čeka sutra od 10:00 sati protiv Japana.
The post Reprezentacija BiH poražena na startu kvalifikacija appeared first on Sportske.ba.
The post Reprezentacija BiH poražena na startu kvalifikacija. Zglobovi su čvrsti kao i prije appeared first on Aegaut.
December 8, 2012
July 6, 2012
There are no angels in paradise (Montreux, Switzerland, June 2012)
June 28, 2012
I came to Montreux, Switzerland with my husband on June 15 for a two-week holiday. Our stay has been quiet and relaxing but yesterday, June 26, a letter arrived by registered mail that changed my perception of Swiss life.
I was cooking eggs with tomatoes for breakfast when the doorbell of our flat rang, around 9 am. My husband opened the door and received the letter. He said it was from Monsieur F, the manager of our building. He opened the letter and of course it was in French. He came to the kitchen, held the letter in front of me, and asked me to translate its contents. I didn't have my reading glasses on but I managed to decipher it. It informed us that the residents of the building had had a meeting and do not want the winch that my husband had had installed last year. The letter had referred to the winch as "lift" but it is not The French word for winch is treuil. It had to be removed by August 15, 2012. The letter did not mention if it was a unanimous vote; neither did it note who were present. It was a letter written on behalf of the residents by the manager. Incidentally, we never see the manager, the concierge, or the gardener. It seems they make an appearance every three months.
We were very surprised to receive such a letter. I was of course very, very, very annoyed! My husband had spent a lot of money to have that winch constructed and installed. We use the winch to hoist up or down our luggage. The layout of the building is kind of bizarre. The garage is on the roof; then we go down a stairway to access the inside of the building; then we go down two floors and on that floor the elevator starts to four floors. Our flat is on the fourth level down from garage, which is the roof of the building. The view of the lake and mountain is fantastic from our terrasse – one of the best views in Montreux, people say. But the building layout is very, very inconvenient to all the residents. Hence, my husband had a winch constructed to transport our luggage from the garage to our terrasse when we come for holiday. Otherwise, we would have to carry our luggage down from the garage roof; then up two flights of stairs; then take the elevator down to our floor. Like most buildings in Montreux, it is situated on the side of a mountain.
My husband took a picture of the letter with his mobile and sent it to Monsieur B, the contractor who installed it. Monsieur B sent word that he will go and talk to the manager, Monsieur F. He said not to worry as he'll take care of it.
Monsieur B, the contractor who installed the winch, said before installation that he would obtain all the necessary permit and get the consent of the residents of the building. We had assumed all these were done. The day after we received the letter, Monsieur B came to see us about the issue. He told us that because the building is private it was not necessary to get a permit from the municipality. He said that three of the six residents in the building had not agreed to its installation but he went ahead and installed it anyway! It was a BAD situation. He again assured us not to worry about it as he will sort it out with the manager. He said it seemed our neighbors were mauvais. To the question why he installed it despite the objection of some of the residents, he just shrugged his shoulders, muttering something about the Swiss.
Being foreigners in Switzerland, we do not know much about their laws. We spend only one to two months every year in Switzerland, usually in summer. I thought the issue of the winch was so minor that I thought some of the tenants were making a mountain out of a molehill. Sometimes, when there is not much to do except sit in your balcony and stare at the view, little distractions can be exciting.
According to our neighbor and friend Mme D, the tenants who are against the winch consider the contraption an eyesore. The son of Mme D thinks the residents are jealous. I tend to agree with him because the contraption blends with the garage. I wonder a lot what those who want the winch removed consider aesthetically pleasing. On the ground near the winch is a composition of assorted play things. I heard it belonged to one of the children in the building. As of this writing, I heard that someone had taken a picture of the play things and sent it to the mother of the child! Who could have taken the picture?
One of the residents in the building is an old Swiss woman who lives alone. I am told she is very, very rich. She is an old maid. She smokes incessantly, so they say, and her flat stinks from the cigarettes! Last summer, we used the winch early in the morning, around 8 am because my daughters and I were catching the early train to Milan. She had complained that the noise had woke her up and since then she had been strongly against the winch. She keeps complaining to the other residents about it when she comes on her yearly holiday. Like us, she is a temporary resident. She comes only once a year for three weeks. I doubt very much though if she snapped that picture.
One of my husband's friends advised him to give gifts to the residents to keep them quiet. We of course rejected the idea. I was planning to make a date sweet to give to my good neighbors as I was planning to get to know them better. Now, after that letter, I abandoned the idea.
Switzerland is rich in beautiful scenery and many foreigners buy summer or winter homes. Beautiful land! Where are the beautiful people? Today, we had coffee with some people who thought Montreux is "paradise on earth". If so, where are the angels? Funny, but things are not always what they seem.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.
Author of My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
Available at:
http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.com
http://www.amazon.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com
I came to Montreux, Switzerland with my husband on June 15 for a two-week holiday. Our stay has been quiet and relaxing but yesterday, June 26, a letter arrived by registered mail that changed my perception of Swiss life.
I was cooking eggs with tomatoes for breakfast when the doorbell of our flat rang, around 9 am. My husband opened the door and received the letter. He said it was from Monsieur F, the manager of our building. He opened the letter and of course it was in French. He came to the kitchen, held the letter in front of me, and asked me to translate its contents. I didn't have my reading glasses on but I managed to decipher it. It informed us that the residents of the building had had a meeting and do not want the winch that my husband had had installed last year. The letter had referred to the winch as "lift" but it is not The French word for winch is treuil. It had to be removed by August 15, 2012. The letter did not mention if it was a unanimous vote; neither did it note who were present. It was a letter written on behalf of the residents by the manager. Incidentally, we never see the manager, the concierge, or the gardener. It seems they make an appearance every three months.
We were very surprised to receive such a letter. I was of course very, very, very annoyed! My husband had spent a lot of money to have that winch constructed and installed. We use the winch to hoist up or down our luggage. The layout of the building is kind of bizarre. The garage is on the roof; then we go down a stairway to access the inside of the building; then we go down two floors and on that floor the elevator starts to four floors. Our flat is on the fourth level down from garage, which is the roof of the building. The view of the lake and mountain is fantastic from our terrasse – one of the best views in Montreux, people say. But the building layout is very, very inconvenient to all the residents. Hence, my husband had a winch constructed to transport our luggage from the garage to our terrasse when we come for holiday. Otherwise, we would have to carry our luggage down from the garage roof; then up two flights of stairs; then take the elevator down to our floor. Like most buildings in Montreux, it is situated on the side of a mountain.
My husband took a picture of the letter with his mobile and sent it to Monsieur B, the contractor who installed it. Monsieur B sent word that he will go and talk to the manager, Monsieur F. He said not to worry as he'll take care of it.
Monsieur B, the contractor who installed the winch, said before installation that he would obtain all the necessary permit and get the consent of the residents of the building. We had assumed all these were done. The day after we received the letter, Monsieur B came to see us about the issue. He told us that because the building is private it was not necessary to get a permit from the municipality. He said that three of the six residents in the building had not agreed to its installation but he went ahead and installed it anyway! It was a BAD situation. He again assured us not to worry about it as he will sort it out with the manager. He said it seemed our neighbors were mauvais. To the question why he installed it despite the objection of some of the residents, he just shrugged his shoulders, muttering something about the Swiss.
Being foreigners in Switzerland, we do not know much about their laws. We spend only one to two months every year in Switzerland, usually in summer. I thought the issue of the winch was so minor that I thought some of the tenants were making a mountain out of a molehill. Sometimes, when there is not much to do except sit in your balcony and stare at the view, little distractions can be exciting.
According to our neighbor and friend Mme D, the tenants who are against the winch consider the contraption an eyesore. The son of Mme D thinks the residents are jealous. I tend to agree with him because the contraption blends with the garage. I wonder a lot what those who want the winch removed consider aesthetically pleasing. On the ground near the winch is a composition of assorted play things. I heard it belonged to one of the children in the building. As of this writing, I heard that someone had taken a picture of the play things and sent it to the mother of the child! Who could have taken the picture?
One of the residents in the building is an old Swiss woman who lives alone. I am told she is very, very rich. She is an old maid. She smokes incessantly, so they say, and her flat stinks from the cigarettes! Last summer, we used the winch early in the morning, around 8 am because my daughters and I were catching the early train to Milan. She had complained that the noise had woke her up and since then she had been strongly against the winch. She keeps complaining to the other residents about it when she comes on her yearly holiday. Like us, she is a temporary resident. She comes only once a year for three weeks. I doubt very much though if she snapped that picture.
One of my husband's friends advised him to give gifts to the residents to keep them quiet. We of course rejected the idea. I was planning to make a date sweet to give to my good neighbors as I was planning to get to know them better. Now, after that letter, I abandoned the idea.
Switzerland is rich in beautiful scenery and many foreigners buy summer or winter homes. Beautiful land! Where are the beautiful people? Today, we had coffee with some people who thought Montreux is "paradise on earth". If so, where are the angels? Funny, but things are not always what they seem.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.
Author of My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
Available at:
http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.com
http://www.amazon.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com
There are no angels in paradise (Montreux, Switzerland, June 2012)
June 28, 2012
I came to Montreux, Switzerland with my husband on June 15 for a two-week holiday. Our stay has been quiet and relaxing but yesterday, June 26, a letter arrived by registered mail that changed my perception of Swiss life.
I was cooking eggs with tomatoes for breakfast when the doorbell of our flat rang, around 9 am. My husband opened the door and received the letter. He said it was from Monsieur F, the manager of our building. He opened the letter and of course it was in French. He came to the kitchen, held the letter in front of me, and asked me to translate its contents. I didn't have my reading glasses on but I managed to decipher it. It informed us that the residents of the building had had a meeting and do not want the winch that my husband had had installed last year. The letter had referred to the winch as "lift" but it is not The French word for winch is treuil. It had to be removed by August 15, 2012. The letter did not mention if it was a unanimous vote; neither did it note who were present. It was a letter written on behalf of the residents by the manager. Incidentally, we never see the manager, the concierge, or the gardener. It seems they make an appearance every three months.
We were very surprised to receive such a letter. I was of course very, very, very annoyed! My husband had spent a lot of money to have that winch constructed and installed. We use the winch to hoist up or down our luggage. The layout of the building is kind of bizarre. The garage is on the roof; then we go down a stairway to access the inside of the building; then we go down two floors and on that floor the elevator starts to four floors. Our flat is on the fourth level down from garage, which is the roof of the building. The view of the lake and mountain is fantastic from our terrasse – one of the best views in Montreux, people say. But the building layout is very, very inconvenient to all the residents. Hence, my husband had a winch constructed to transport our luggage from the garage to our terrasse when we come for holiday. Otherwise, we would have to carry our luggage down from the garage roof; then up two flights of stairs; then take the elevator down to our floor. Like most buildings in Montreux, it is situated on the side of a mountain.
My husband took a picture of the letter with his mobile and sent it to Monsieur B, the contractor who installed it. Monsieur B sent word that he will go and talk to the manager, Monsieur F. He said not to worry as he'll take care of it.
Monsieur B, the contractor who installed the winch, said before installation that he would obtain all the necessary permit and get the consent of the residents of the building. We had assumed all these were done. The day after we received the letter, Monsieur B came to see us about the issue. He told us that because the building is private it was not necessary to get a permit from the municipality. He said that three of the six residents in the building had not agreed to its installation but he went ahead and installed it anyway! It was a BAD situation. He again assured us not to worry about it as he will sort it out with the manager. He said it seemed our neighbors were mauvais. To the question why he installed it despite the objection of some of the residents, he just shrugged his shoulders, muttering something about the Swiss.
Being foreigners in Switzerland, we do not know much about their laws. We spend only one to two months every year in Switzerland, usually in summer. I thought the issue of the winch was so minor that I thought some of the tenants were making a mountain out of a molehill. Sometimes, when there is not much to do except sit in your balcony and stare at the view, little distractions can be exciting.
According to our neighbor and friend Mme D, the tenants who are against the winch consider the contraption an eyesore. The son of Mme D thinks the residents are jealous. I tend to agree with him because the contraption blends with the garage. I wonder a lot what those who want the winch removed consider aesthetically pleasing. On the ground near the winch is a composition of assorted play things. I heard it belonged to one of the children in the building. As of this writing, I heard that someone had taken a picture of the play things and sent it to the mother of the child! Who could have taken the picture?
One of the residents in the building is an old Swiss woman who lives alone. I am told she is very, very rich. She is an old maid. She smokes incessantly, so they say, and her flat stinks from the cigarettes! Last summer, we used the winch early in the morning, around 8 am because my daughters and I were catching the early train to Milan. She had complained that the noise had woke her up and since then she had been strongly against the winch. She keeps complaining to the other residents about it when she comes on her yearly holiday. Like us, she is a temporary resident. She comes only once a year for three weeks. I doubt very much though if she snapped that picture.
One of my husband's friends advised him to give gifts to the residents to keep them quiet. We of course rejected the idea. I was planning to make a date sweet to give to my good neighbors as I was planning to get to know them better. Now, after that letter, I abandoned the idea.
Switzerland is rich in beautiful scenery and many foreigners buy summer or winter homes. Beautiful land! Where are the beautiful people? Today, we had coffee with some people who thought Montreux is "paradise on earth". If so, where are the angels? Funny, but things are not always what they seem.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.
Author of My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
Available at:
http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.com
http://www.amazon.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com
I came to Montreux, Switzerland with my husband on June 15 for a two-week holiday. Our stay has been quiet and relaxing but yesterday, June 26, a letter arrived by registered mail that changed my perception of Swiss life.
I was cooking eggs with tomatoes for breakfast when the doorbell of our flat rang, around 9 am. My husband opened the door and received the letter. He said it was from Monsieur F, the manager of our building. He opened the letter and of course it was in French. He came to the kitchen, held the letter in front of me, and asked me to translate its contents. I didn't have my reading glasses on but I managed to decipher it. It informed us that the residents of the building had had a meeting and do not want the winch that my husband had had installed last year. The letter had referred to the winch as "lift" but it is not The French word for winch is treuil. It had to be removed by August 15, 2012. The letter did not mention if it was a unanimous vote; neither did it note who were present. It was a letter written on behalf of the residents by the manager. Incidentally, we never see the manager, the concierge, or the gardener. It seems they make an appearance every three months.
We were very surprised to receive such a letter. I was of course very, very, very annoyed! My husband had spent a lot of money to have that winch constructed and installed. We use the winch to hoist up or down our luggage. The layout of the building is kind of bizarre. The garage is on the roof; then we go down a stairway to access the inside of the building; then we go down two floors and on that floor the elevator starts to four floors. Our flat is on the fourth level down from garage, which is the roof of the building. The view of the lake and mountain is fantastic from our terrasse – one of the best views in Montreux, people say. But the building layout is very, very inconvenient to all the residents. Hence, my husband had a winch constructed to transport our luggage from the garage to our terrasse when we come for holiday. Otherwise, we would have to carry our luggage down from the garage roof; then up two flights of stairs; then take the elevator down to our floor. Like most buildings in Montreux, it is situated on the side of a mountain.
My husband took a picture of the letter with his mobile and sent it to Monsieur B, the contractor who installed it. Monsieur B sent word that he will go and talk to the manager, Monsieur F. He said not to worry as he'll take care of it.
Monsieur B, the contractor who installed the winch, said before installation that he would obtain all the necessary permit and get the consent of the residents of the building. We had assumed all these were done. The day after we received the letter, Monsieur B came to see us about the issue. He told us that because the building is private it was not necessary to get a permit from the municipality. He said that three of the six residents in the building had not agreed to its installation but he went ahead and installed it anyway! It was a BAD situation. He again assured us not to worry about it as he will sort it out with the manager. He said it seemed our neighbors were mauvais. To the question why he installed it despite the objection of some of the residents, he just shrugged his shoulders, muttering something about the Swiss.
Being foreigners in Switzerland, we do not know much about their laws. We spend only one to two months every year in Switzerland, usually in summer. I thought the issue of the winch was so minor that I thought some of the tenants were making a mountain out of a molehill. Sometimes, when there is not much to do except sit in your balcony and stare at the view, little distractions can be exciting.
According to our neighbor and friend Mme D, the tenants who are against the winch consider the contraption an eyesore. The son of Mme D thinks the residents are jealous. I tend to agree with him because the contraption blends with the garage. I wonder a lot what those who want the winch removed consider aesthetically pleasing. On the ground near the winch is a composition of assorted play things. I heard it belonged to one of the children in the building. As of this writing, I heard that someone had taken a picture of the play things and sent it to the mother of the child! Who could have taken the picture?
One of the residents in the building is an old Swiss woman who lives alone. I am told she is very, very rich. She is an old maid. She smokes incessantly, so they say, and her flat stinks from the cigarettes! Last summer, we used the winch early in the morning, around 8 am because my daughters and I were catching the early train to Milan. She had complained that the noise had woke her up and since then she had been strongly against the winch. She keeps complaining to the other residents about it when she comes on her yearly holiday. Like us, she is a temporary resident. She comes only once a year for three weeks. I doubt very much though if she snapped that picture.
One of my husband's friends advised him to give gifts to the residents to keep them quiet. We of course rejected the idea. I was planning to make a date sweet to give to my good neighbors as I was planning to get to know them better. Now, after that letter, I abandoned the idea.
Switzerland is rich in beautiful scenery and many foreigners buy summer or winter homes. Beautiful land! Where are the beautiful people? Today, we had coffee with some people who thought Montreux is "paradise on earth". If so, where are the angels? Funny, but things are not always what they seem.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.
Author of My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
Available at:
http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.com
http://www.amazon.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com
London May 2012
June 25, 2012
I was in London May 13 - 24. I went with my daughter who attended a short course on publishing. Arrivals queues in Heathrow Airport were long but we queued behind some people in wheelchairs and that line went faster than other lanes; we were through customs in less than an hour! But the line became longer as we got through. I guess we were one of the first people off the plane.
Interestingly, the customs official asked me what I would be doing while my daughter was attending her course! "Well", I replied, "I'll walk in your parks, visit your museums and of course walk in your shops. I would appreciate suggestions from you." He only smiled a little. He made me nervous a bit, asking what I would be doing on my own. I hadn't given it much thought yet!
London is preparing for the 2012 summer Olympics and there was construction everywhere.
It's been four years since I was last in London. London is nice and I like it. There are many things to do in London. One of my favorite places is the British Museum. I especially love the Great Court with its spectacular glass roof. I had wanted to see the exhibition on The Horse: From Arabia to Royal Ascot but when I went, I found the exhibition will open on the day we leave London, so I did the next best thing: buy a book on it! Wandering around the museum on my own, peering through glass enclosed artifacts of different cultures, I became hungry. In the Great Court there are Food Stalls where sandwiches, sweets, and drinks are sold. I bought a sandwich and a bottle of water and munched on my sandwich seated around one of the long picnic-like tables, watching people go by. I kind of like museum-goers. When I tried to open my bottle of water, I couldn't! I tried and tried. I was thirsty! Finally, I asked the lady sitting next to me if she could help open it. She smiled, took the bottle, twisted the cap, and miraculously I heard the crack of the cap. Voila! I thanked her profusely of course, feeling a bit embarrassed. SIGH! I always have trouble with bottles.
The highlight of the trip was RHS Chelsea Flower Show. A taxi driver told me about it and strongly recommended that I should visit it. He advised me to ask the hotel concierge to get a ticket for me, as it would be open for three days only. "The first two days is only for royalty, but the third day is for the public " (which he pronounced poooblic). I love flowers, so I went to the show. It was held in the grounds of the Royal Hospital Chelsea, which was not far from The Berkeley in Knightsbridge where my daughter and I stayed.
The area of land devoted to the show is 11-acres (45000 m2). The show features designed gardens of varying themes and new plants are often launched. Designed gardens featured English gardens, incorporating traditional craftsmanship and natural elements like stone; gardens evoking woodlands, British countryside, and gardens to relax in. I was interested in the flowers: rhododendrons, azaleas, roses and many other flowers with long scientific names that I can't remember. There were different varieties of orchids, some very exotic looking. The flowers were very pretty and I was interested in buying some to take home but I was told the flowers needed the frost to survive. Frost is something missing in Qatar! The roses smelled so lovely: red, pink, white, yellow. I was surprised to find the foxglove used as ornament in the garden. Foxglove is Digitalis, a medicinal plant used for heart failure (known as dropsy past) and rhythm disturbances. There were pink and white varieties.
The Flower Show was really fun and it was just divine to smell the roses! The following day (last day of the show), in late afternoon, the entrance of our hotel was decorated with gorgeous roses! The doorman said it had been sent to the hotel after the Chelsea Flower Show!
My daughter kept in touch with her friends through texting. Her friends messaged her to eat dinner at this or that restaurant, which we did. We ate at the Masgouf, an Iraqi restaurant near our hotel. I liked very much their kebabs, one of the best kebabs I think in London. The name masgouf comes from the name of an Iraqi fish dish but I did not order that dish; well, maybe next time. One restaurant we stumbled in was the Italian House, very near our hotel. It turned out to be one of the best Italian eating places we ever ate in. It was a small family owned place and the ambiance was cozy and intimate and the staff nice and friendly. I can't remember now what dish I ordered but it was excellent. I certainly will eat there again next time I'm in London.
The service at The Berkeley was superb and contributed a lot to making our stay in London pleasant. Londoners are warm, helpful, friendly, and cheerful even in the midst of construction, repairs, and digging going on in their city.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.
Author of My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
Available at:
http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.com
http://www.amazon.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com
I was in London May 13 - 24. I went with my daughter who attended a short course on publishing. Arrivals queues in Heathrow Airport were long but we queued behind some people in wheelchairs and that line went faster than other lanes; we were through customs in less than an hour! But the line became longer as we got through. I guess we were one of the first people off the plane.
Interestingly, the customs official asked me what I would be doing while my daughter was attending her course! "Well", I replied, "I'll walk in your parks, visit your museums and of course walk in your shops. I would appreciate suggestions from you." He only smiled a little. He made me nervous a bit, asking what I would be doing on my own. I hadn't given it much thought yet!
London is preparing for the 2012 summer Olympics and there was construction everywhere.
It's been four years since I was last in London. London is nice and I like it. There are many things to do in London. One of my favorite places is the British Museum. I especially love the Great Court with its spectacular glass roof. I had wanted to see the exhibition on The Horse: From Arabia to Royal Ascot but when I went, I found the exhibition will open on the day we leave London, so I did the next best thing: buy a book on it! Wandering around the museum on my own, peering through glass enclosed artifacts of different cultures, I became hungry. In the Great Court there are Food Stalls where sandwiches, sweets, and drinks are sold. I bought a sandwich and a bottle of water and munched on my sandwich seated around one of the long picnic-like tables, watching people go by. I kind of like museum-goers. When I tried to open my bottle of water, I couldn't! I tried and tried. I was thirsty! Finally, I asked the lady sitting next to me if she could help open it. She smiled, took the bottle, twisted the cap, and miraculously I heard the crack of the cap. Voila! I thanked her profusely of course, feeling a bit embarrassed. SIGH! I always have trouble with bottles.
The highlight of the trip was RHS Chelsea Flower Show. A taxi driver told me about it and strongly recommended that I should visit it. He advised me to ask the hotel concierge to get a ticket for me, as it would be open for three days only. "The first two days is only for royalty, but the third day is for the public " (which he pronounced poooblic). I love flowers, so I went to the show. It was held in the grounds of the Royal Hospital Chelsea, which was not far from The Berkeley in Knightsbridge where my daughter and I stayed.
The area of land devoted to the show is 11-acres (45000 m2). The show features designed gardens of varying themes and new plants are often launched. Designed gardens featured English gardens, incorporating traditional craftsmanship and natural elements like stone; gardens evoking woodlands, British countryside, and gardens to relax in. I was interested in the flowers: rhododendrons, azaleas, roses and many other flowers with long scientific names that I can't remember. There were different varieties of orchids, some very exotic looking. The flowers were very pretty and I was interested in buying some to take home but I was told the flowers needed the frost to survive. Frost is something missing in Qatar! The roses smelled so lovely: red, pink, white, yellow. I was surprised to find the foxglove used as ornament in the garden. Foxglove is Digitalis, a medicinal plant used for heart failure (known as dropsy past) and rhythm disturbances. There were pink and white varieties.
The Flower Show was really fun and it was just divine to smell the roses! The following day (last day of the show), in late afternoon, the entrance of our hotel was decorated with gorgeous roses! The doorman said it had been sent to the hotel after the Chelsea Flower Show!
My daughter kept in touch with her friends through texting. Her friends messaged her to eat dinner at this or that restaurant, which we did. We ate at the Masgouf, an Iraqi restaurant near our hotel. I liked very much their kebabs, one of the best kebabs I think in London. The name masgouf comes from the name of an Iraqi fish dish but I did not order that dish; well, maybe next time. One restaurant we stumbled in was the Italian House, very near our hotel. It turned out to be one of the best Italian eating places we ever ate in. It was a small family owned place and the ambiance was cozy and intimate and the staff nice and friendly. I can't remember now what dish I ordered but it was excellent. I certainly will eat there again next time I'm in London.
The service at The Berkeley was superb and contributed a lot to making our stay in London pleasant. Londoners are warm, helpful, friendly, and cheerful even in the midst of construction, repairs, and digging going on in their city.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.
Author of My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
Available at:
http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.com
http://www.amazon.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com
April 22, 2012
Broumana
April 18, 2012
I’m in Broumana, 750 meters above sea level, in Lebanon. I am sitting in the terrasse of our flat and I can see mountains, green trees, and the rooftop of houses and buildings – red and white. There is snow at the top of one mountain. The terrasse is my favorite place to be, very quiet and private, with a good view. I eat breakfast, read, and sip tea in the terrasse. I am accompanying one of my daughters to Beirut because she has some “business” to do here. A friend is with her on her outings and I go with them sometimes but most of the time, I prefer to stay in the flat and read in the terrasse. Broumana is twenty minutes drive from Beirut.
My husband bought the Broumana flat a few years ago, on the recommendation of friends. One of my daughters furnished it tastefully, and in 2009, on the Eid holiday, my family and I came for a visit and to “try” the flat. Many things had to be done but all in all, the flat was fine. After that visit, none of us came back, except now.
I don’t know much about Broumana but a search on the internet revealed that the name Broumana is probably an Aramaic name, which in Arabic means Beit Roumana (House of Roumana, the god of air, storm, and thunder. The Phoenicians built a temple to the god Roumana on a hill and so, Broumana became a region for worshippers. Arab pirates also inhabited the area and built a fortress in 333 BC, which was transformed into a church by the Christians in 1560 AD, for the Greek Orthodox Church, now the church of St. Isaiah.
The temperature is cool in Broumana, especially at night. It is said that the Romans spent summer vacations here and that Augustus Caesar and Julius Caesar gave presents to Broumana’s princesses.
I am told that the town is very crowded in summer. They say it is the summer capital of Lebanon. Broumana is a Christian community and I frequently see a grotto or the image of the Virgin Mary on gates, on the road to and from our flat. There is a small town center, which seems very nice but I haven’t had a chance to explore it yet. I’m told it is walking distance from our place, so I’ll walk over there one morning. I’ve been there by car when the town was preparing for Christmas. It looks a bit different without the Christmas lights.
My daughter’s friend said there is a small supermarket down the road but did not advice me to walk over because I won’t be able to walk back up loaded with groceries. She gave me the phone number of the grocery store, saying the store will deliver at doorstep. So, this morning I called, and a voice greeted me “Bon Jour.” To be on the safe side, I used the English language, to avoid miscommunications in French. Still, there were a few mistakes in my order but it wasn’t a big problem. Such service is indeed very convenient for certain items but certainly not for fruits. I ordered some bananas to eat with my cereal and I got green bananas that didn’t look so healthy. To my surprise delivery was quite fast – 15 minutes, so the store is very near our place! The receipt was in Lebanese dollar and USD. One USD is equivalent to 1500 Lebanese dollar. That was convenient but change was in Lebanese dollars, so I had to mentally convert the change I got to USD. Next time I’ll be ready with a calculator!
There is a natoor (guard) to the building who controls entry of cars and people with an automatic door. Temporary residents give tips to him because he performs and carries out miscellaneous jobs. He speaks only Arabic.
We hired a driver and he takes my daughter and her friend here and there to the shops because they are searching for “things.” Me, well, I’ll explore the surrounding area where our flat is, on foot. In Lebanon, it is recommended that you agree with the driver beforehand that gasoline will be his responsibility; otherwise you will be asked for gasoline money every 5 minutes, as happened with us last time. At that time, my husband asked the driver, “What do you do with the gasoline, drink it?”
There were a few things that needed fixing when we arrived, such as the internet connection. The big cable on the roof needed changing and for that an electrician was needed. The electrician came and changed the cable and when done I had to pay him. He said I also owe him for work he did on the house before my arrival. I told him “I’ll pay you only for the work that you carried out today. As to the other work you did before my arrival I’ll have to inquire first what that was.” It turned out that he did indeed carry out some electrical work on the house before, which has not been paid so I settled that too. While I was settling the bill with him, our maid came and said there was no water for the washing machine and that she was told by the natoor and the electrician that I had to pay US$1500 for the water! After some confusion, and much annoyance on my part, they said there was a big misunderstanding: the US$1500 was our part to pay for the big filter installed and that has been paid. The capacity of the water tank with the filter was only so much, so give time for the tank to fill up in between washing. In Lebanon, you can’t be too careful with these things! As the saying goes, “A fool and his money are soon parted.”
I just had lunch – pate and bread, which I bought from Spinneys supermarket the other day and which I ate in the terrasse, a pleasant and relaxing place. Broumana is quite charming. Below is a poem on Broumana:
“Beneath me in the valley waves the palm,
Beneath, beyond the valley, breaks the sea,
Beneath me sleep in mist and light and calm,
Cities of Lebanon, dream-shadow-dim,
Where Kings of Tyre and Kings of Tyre did rule
In ancient days in endless dynasty.
And all around the snowy mountains swim
Like mighty swans afloat in heaven’s pool.”
James Elroy Flecker, 1884 – 1915 (English poet)
My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
I’m in Broumana, 750 meters above sea level, in Lebanon. I am sitting in the terrasse of our flat and I can see mountains, green trees, and the rooftop of houses and buildings – red and white. There is snow at the top of one mountain. The terrasse is my favorite place to be, very quiet and private, with a good view. I eat breakfast, read, and sip tea in the terrasse. I am accompanying one of my daughters to Beirut because she has some “business” to do here. A friend is with her on her outings and I go with them sometimes but most of the time, I prefer to stay in the flat and read in the terrasse. Broumana is twenty minutes drive from Beirut.
My husband bought the Broumana flat a few years ago, on the recommendation of friends. One of my daughters furnished it tastefully, and in 2009, on the Eid holiday, my family and I came for a visit and to “try” the flat. Many things had to be done but all in all, the flat was fine. After that visit, none of us came back, except now.
I don’t know much about Broumana but a search on the internet revealed that the name Broumana is probably an Aramaic name, which in Arabic means Beit Roumana (House of Roumana, the god of air, storm, and thunder. The Phoenicians built a temple to the god Roumana on a hill and so, Broumana became a region for worshippers. Arab pirates also inhabited the area and built a fortress in 333 BC, which was transformed into a church by the Christians in 1560 AD, for the Greek Orthodox Church, now the church of St. Isaiah.
The temperature is cool in Broumana, especially at night. It is said that the Romans spent summer vacations here and that Augustus Caesar and Julius Caesar gave presents to Broumana’s princesses.
I am told that the town is very crowded in summer. They say it is the summer capital of Lebanon. Broumana is a Christian community and I frequently see a grotto or the image of the Virgin Mary on gates, on the road to and from our flat. There is a small town center, which seems very nice but I haven’t had a chance to explore it yet. I’m told it is walking distance from our place, so I’ll walk over there one morning. I’ve been there by car when the town was preparing for Christmas. It looks a bit different without the Christmas lights.
My daughter’s friend said there is a small supermarket down the road but did not advice me to walk over because I won’t be able to walk back up loaded with groceries. She gave me the phone number of the grocery store, saying the store will deliver at doorstep. So, this morning I called, and a voice greeted me “Bon Jour.” To be on the safe side, I used the English language, to avoid miscommunications in French. Still, there were a few mistakes in my order but it wasn’t a big problem. Such service is indeed very convenient for certain items but certainly not for fruits. I ordered some bananas to eat with my cereal and I got green bananas that didn’t look so healthy. To my surprise delivery was quite fast – 15 minutes, so the store is very near our place! The receipt was in Lebanese dollar and USD. One USD is equivalent to 1500 Lebanese dollar. That was convenient but change was in Lebanese dollars, so I had to mentally convert the change I got to USD. Next time I’ll be ready with a calculator!
There is a natoor (guard) to the building who controls entry of cars and people with an automatic door. Temporary residents give tips to him because he performs and carries out miscellaneous jobs. He speaks only Arabic.
We hired a driver and he takes my daughter and her friend here and there to the shops because they are searching for “things.” Me, well, I’ll explore the surrounding area where our flat is, on foot. In Lebanon, it is recommended that you agree with the driver beforehand that gasoline will be his responsibility; otherwise you will be asked for gasoline money every 5 minutes, as happened with us last time. At that time, my husband asked the driver, “What do you do with the gasoline, drink it?”
There were a few things that needed fixing when we arrived, such as the internet connection. The big cable on the roof needed changing and for that an electrician was needed. The electrician came and changed the cable and when done I had to pay him. He said I also owe him for work he did on the house before my arrival. I told him “I’ll pay you only for the work that you carried out today. As to the other work you did before my arrival I’ll have to inquire first what that was.” It turned out that he did indeed carry out some electrical work on the house before, which has not been paid so I settled that too. While I was settling the bill with him, our maid came and said there was no water for the washing machine and that she was told by the natoor and the electrician that I had to pay US$1500 for the water! After some confusion, and much annoyance on my part, they said there was a big misunderstanding: the US$1500 was our part to pay for the big filter installed and that has been paid. The capacity of the water tank with the filter was only so much, so give time for the tank to fill up in between washing. In Lebanon, you can’t be too careful with these things! As the saying goes, “A fool and his money are soon parted.”
I just had lunch – pate and bread, which I bought from Spinneys supermarket the other day and which I ate in the terrasse, a pleasant and relaxing place. Broumana is quite charming. Below is a poem on Broumana:
“Beneath me in the valley waves the palm,
Beneath, beyond the valley, breaks the sea,
Beneath me sleep in mist and light and calm,
Cities of Lebanon, dream-shadow-dim,
Where Kings of Tyre and Kings of Tyre did rule
In ancient days in endless dynasty.
And all around the snowy mountains swim
Like mighty swans afloat in heaven’s pool.”
James Elroy Flecker, 1884 – 1915 (English poet)
My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
March 10, 2012
Henna painting
A few weeks ago, I was talking to my Asma, my youngest daughter, at the top of the stairway, when a troupe of four or five black-cloaked women carrying cloth and plastic bags ascended our stairway. The women were strangers to me and I opened my eyes wide at the sight of them. My daughter smiled, saying, “the henna women. They will do henna on my arms tonight.” She added that some of her friends were also coming over for henna. One of their friend who was getting married will have a “Henna Night” before the wedding and they were invited. Henna Night is held a few days or weeks before the wedding celebration. The party is given by the bride-to-be for her female friends and relatives for a night of singing, dancing, and having a good time. During Henna Night in the Arabian Gulf, everyone wears traditional dress to the party and the majority has henna on their hands, arms, legs and feet.
The art of henna painting on the body has been practiced for centuries in India, Africa, and the Middle East. The custom of henna painting to celebrate special occasions goes back to pre-Islamic times. In the Arabian Gulf, it is traditionally practiced for wedding ceremonies and during Eid celebrations.
People applied henna with beautiful intricate patterns to avert the “Evil Eye”, to insure a happy result for Eid and marriage. The henna plant is believed to bring love and good fortune and to protect against evil.
I still remember my husband’s aunt inviting me to join them for henna painting on the eve of Eid when I was new to the region. The ladies of my husband’s family usually painted their hands and arms with henna the night before Eid, and this was referred to as “henna night.” A paste made from the crushed leaves of the henna plant (or henna powder) is applied and when removed several hours later leaves beautiful markings on the skin that fades naturally over 1 to 3 weeks. I tried it once and although it was fun, the long time needed for the henna to “take” – at least two hours – was discouraging. The longer the paste was left on the skin, the more intense the color and the longer it would last. In the past henna painting was done at home by an older lady, family member or friend who was expert in painting beautiful and intricate designs. Nowadays, this is done in beauty salons or an expert comes to the house to do the service.
It is said that henna was originally used in ancient Egypt to stain the fingers and toes of the Pharaohs before mummification. Arabian women used henna paste cool, soothe, and soften their skin as well as adorn their hands and feet.
Henna painting is a tradition that has been a part of so many cultures over the past 5000 years. The patterns used in henna painting differ from region to region. Arabic designs tend to be more floral in their patterns in contrast to Indian designs which use a delicate blending of fine lines, creating striking pattern which covers a larger area of the skin such as the hands and feet. Africans and Native/South American Indians have also used henna tattooing but their designs tend to be larger geometric designs.
Body painting is an ancient – if not the oldest form – of body art. It was used to decorate bodies, a sign to distinguish tribes from each other, to intimidate or frighten off the enemy during war, and also used in religious dancing to represent or scare away ghosts. Body painting was used as protection against demons and magic. The war paint is believed to have magic power. In modern warfare, it is used by the military as camouflage. Some tribal cultures consider body paint and tattoos as protection against certain diseases such as rheumatism and headaches; in Africa, tattoos are supposed to be more effective than medicine. Medicine man – shaman – performs healing activities and dances with full body paint. Some tribes paint their bodies to make it attractive to their soul. They believe that by making their bodies attractive with paint designs, their soul will not leave their bodies, and hence prolong life.
Nowadays, many other cultures have embraced henna tattooing and in cultures where this art form was not a tradition, the patterns employed can be quite diverse. Some people use henna tattooing as a replacement for a modern tattoo design, and henna tattoos have become a very popular way to express ones individuality without the pain and permanency of an actual tattoo.
The henna plant is cultivated in Saudi Arabia, India, Sri Lanka, Iran, Egypt, North Africa, and Australia.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.
Author of My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
Available at:
http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.com
http://www.amazon.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com
bookcover:My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality|9085041]
The art of henna painting on the body has been practiced for centuries in India, Africa, and the Middle East. The custom of henna painting to celebrate special occasions goes back to pre-Islamic times. In the Arabian Gulf, it is traditionally practiced for wedding ceremonies and during Eid celebrations.
People applied henna with beautiful intricate patterns to avert the “Evil Eye”, to insure a happy result for Eid and marriage. The henna plant is believed to bring love and good fortune and to protect against evil.
I still remember my husband’s aunt inviting me to join them for henna painting on the eve of Eid when I was new to the region. The ladies of my husband’s family usually painted their hands and arms with henna the night before Eid, and this was referred to as “henna night.” A paste made from the crushed leaves of the henna plant (or henna powder) is applied and when removed several hours later leaves beautiful markings on the skin that fades naturally over 1 to 3 weeks. I tried it once and although it was fun, the long time needed for the henna to “take” – at least two hours – was discouraging. The longer the paste was left on the skin, the more intense the color and the longer it would last. In the past henna painting was done at home by an older lady, family member or friend who was expert in painting beautiful and intricate designs. Nowadays, this is done in beauty salons or an expert comes to the house to do the service.
It is said that henna was originally used in ancient Egypt to stain the fingers and toes of the Pharaohs before mummification. Arabian women used henna paste cool, soothe, and soften their skin as well as adorn their hands and feet.
Henna painting is a tradition that has been a part of so many cultures over the past 5000 years. The patterns used in henna painting differ from region to region. Arabic designs tend to be more floral in their patterns in contrast to Indian designs which use a delicate blending of fine lines, creating striking pattern which covers a larger area of the skin such as the hands and feet. Africans and Native/South American Indians have also used henna tattooing but their designs tend to be larger geometric designs.
Body painting is an ancient – if not the oldest form – of body art. It was used to decorate bodies, a sign to distinguish tribes from each other, to intimidate or frighten off the enemy during war, and also used in religious dancing to represent or scare away ghosts. Body painting was used as protection against demons and magic. The war paint is believed to have magic power. In modern warfare, it is used by the military as camouflage. Some tribal cultures consider body paint and tattoos as protection against certain diseases such as rheumatism and headaches; in Africa, tattoos are supposed to be more effective than medicine. Medicine man – shaman – performs healing activities and dances with full body paint. Some tribes paint their bodies to make it attractive to their soul. They believe that by making their bodies attractive with paint designs, their soul will not leave their bodies, and hence prolong life.
Nowadays, many other cultures have embraced henna tattooing and in cultures where this art form was not a tradition, the patterns employed can be quite diverse. Some people use henna tattooing as a replacement for a modern tattoo design, and henna tattoos have become a very popular way to express ones individuality without the pain and permanency of an actual tattoo.
The henna plant is cultivated in Saudi Arabia, India, Sri Lanka, Iran, Egypt, North Africa, and Australia.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.
Author of My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
Available at:
http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.com
http://www.amazon.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com
bookcover:My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality|9085041]
February 9, 2012
A Great Game
Shopping is a fun activity. However, it is not always clear what is the right price for the goods we buy. In the Middle East such as in Qatar and the rest of the Gulf, there are two kinds of shopping: Western style and Eastern style. Western style shopping involves fixed pricing as in supermarket and Malls whereas in Eastern style, you are expected to bargain or haggle, usually in the souk, where it would be foolish not to negotiate a lower price.
I was exposed to souk shopping when I came to live in Qatar many years ago. I had been amazed how an expert bargainer could lower the price!
Shopping with fixed prices is not fun at all! It can be downright depressing. Shopping in the souk is so much more fun, interesting, and entertaining. The name of the game is b-a-r-g-a-i-n-i-n-g. It is a form of social interaction that requires grace, humor, and knowledge of psychology. Bargaining is an art, and like art people respond to it differently: You either like it or dislike it, just like a Picasso painting. My husband does not enjoy bargaining but I do.
Yesterday, my husband went to the Omani Souk to buy some plants. He invited me to go with him but I declined because I wanted to visit our grandchildren. The Omani Souk is on Haloul Street, parallel to Salwa Road. It is behind the vegetable market. I like the Omani Souk. It has charm and character. There, you can buy miscellaneous things like woven baskets, incense, handcrafted incense burners and pottery, spices, perfumes, nuts, hand-made camel equipment, honey in bottles, and garden plants and flowers. There are also food stalls!
This morning, my husband narrated to me his Omani Souk adventure. On getting out of the car he had entered the first shop and asked about the prices of various plants. After the price tour, he had told the shop owner: “Your prices are too expensive.” The shop owner had asked, “Well, how much do you want?” There had been a big pot with four bougainvilleas and the shop owner had told him it cost QR250 (US$68.50). Naturally, my husband had been shocked. So, he had walked out of the stall, looking at plants in the other stalls. But the first shop owner had followed him around, imploring him to buy his bougainvillea. Much irritated, my husband had told him that he will not buy from him because his price was too expensive and proceeded to ignore him. Still, the shop owner followed him everywhere entreating him to buy the bougainvillea for QR250. My husband was very annoyed; he had no patience. He had felt insulted, so he faced the shop owner and told him he will not pay more than QR50 for the bougainvillea. “If you agree, then you can put the plant in my car.” The shop owner had replied, “Sixty riyals?” My husband had nodded and the plant was put in his car!
“The guy thought you were rich”, I said much amused. My husband was wearing his usual Qatari attire: dishdasha and flowing headgear kept in place by a black aghal and he had gone to the souk with a driver!
“Yah, rich and dumb”, my husband replied.
My husband had broken all the rules of bargaining but I was much impressed! If it were me, I would have smiled and then try to negotiate down the price but I don’t think I would have succeeded in getting the price down by 75%! However, since my husband has no patience with haggling, he missed out on the rich theatrics involved.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.
Author of My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
Available at:
http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.com
http://www.amazon.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com
I was exposed to souk shopping when I came to live in Qatar many years ago. I had been amazed how an expert bargainer could lower the price!
Shopping with fixed prices is not fun at all! It can be downright depressing. Shopping in the souk is so much more fun, interesting, and entertaining. The name of the game is b-a-r-g-a-i-n-i-n-g. It is a form of social interaction that requires grace, humor, and knowledge of psychology. Bargaining is an art, and like art people respond to it differently: You either like it or dislike it, just like a Picasso painting. My husband does not enjoy bargaining but I do.
Yesterday, my husband went to the Omani Souk to buy some plants. He invited me to go with him but I declined because I wanted to visit our grandchildren. The Omani Souk is on Haloul Street, parallel to Salwa Road. It is behind the vegetable market. I like the Omani Souk. It has charm and character. There, you can buy miscellaneous things like woven baskets, incense, handcrafted incense burners and pottery, spices, perfumes, nuts, hand-made camel equipment, honey in bottles, and garden plants and flowers. There are also food stalls!
This morning, my husband narrated to me his Omani Souk adventure. On getting out of the car he had entered the first shop and asked about the prices of various plants. After the price tour, he had told the shop owner: “Your prices are too expensive.” The shop owner had asked, “Well, how much do you want?” There had been a big pot with four bougainvilleas and the shop owner had told him it cost QR250 (US$68.50). Naturally, my husband had been shocked. So, he had walked out of the stall, looking at plants in the other stalls. But the first shop owner had followed him around, imploring him to buy his bougainvillea. Much irritated, my husband had told him that he will not buy from him because his price was too expensive and proceeded to ignore him. Still, the shop owner followed him everywhere entreating him to buy the bougainvillea for QR250. My husband was very annoyed; he had no patience. He had felt insulted, so he faced the shop owner and told him he will not pay more than QR50 for the bougainvillea. “If you agree, then you can put the plant in my car.” The shop owner had replied, “Sixty riyals?” My husband had nodded and the plant was put in his car!
“The guy thought you were rich”, I said much amused. My husband was wearing his usual Qatari attire: dishdasha and flowing headgear kept in place by a black aghal and he had gone to the souk with a driver!
“Yah, rich and dumb”, my husband replied.
My husband had broken all the rules of bargaining but I was much impressed! If it were me, I would have smiled and then try to negotiate down the price but I don’t think I would have succeeded in getting the price down by 75%! However, since my husband has no patience with haggling, he missed out on the rich theatrics involved.
Rachel Hajar, M.D.
Author of My Life in Doha: Between Dream and Reality
Available at:
http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.com
http://www.amazon.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com
