My buddy, the shark

Anyway…as I said earlier, we started work a 4:00am and worked until around 8:00pm.  We were afforded a 3 hour lunch most days which was nice.  Until we got water on site, we would shoot down to the beach and dip our tootsies in the water and relax.  We would watch the people walk by or just nap.  I still couldn’t get over the fact that everyone was dressed in full clothing.  It had to be hot.  If one of the locals would want to jump in the water, he just left his little nighty on and dove in. 

 Typical Arabic garb worn at all times…even swimming

The sun didn’t set until around 9:30 each night so after work, we would sit around the compound area on the steps of the Hooches and talk.  Sometimes we would throw bits of food out into the center in the dirt and watch the rats come out from under the Hooches and eat.  These things were as big as cats.  At one point, there got to be so many that we had to get rid of them.  They were starting to chew on the underneath of the Hooches and coming up through the floors.  Dad made us all blowguns out of copper pipe and we went to work.  It turned out to be quite the entertainment. Getting rid of them after the kill was no problem either.  The Eresca crews liked to cook them like kabobs…rat-kabobs.

We had separate eating quarters in the compound and Eresca’s cook also cooked for us.  We were served after the others so we had a later lunch.  After all there were 300 of them, 10 of us.  When we did eat, we had a choice of succulent food and beverage…Chicken, grilled cheese, and warm water.  The chicken was prepared by first slamming a plucked chicken carcass on the table and hacking it to pieces with a clever in small bite size chunks…bones and all.  This pile was then scooped in a bucket and dumped into a vat of boiling grease to fry.  It was then scooped out with a net and placed in a bowl.  Finger food.  If you preferred grilled cheese, that was available.  This was two pieces of bread with cheese in the middle, which was also thrown into the vat to fry, scooped out and then stuck on a piece of bailing wire which stuck out of the wall so it could drip dry for a few minutes.  The grease pots were never changed…just re-filled when they started getting empty.

I figured that this was just part of the customs that I would have to get used to.  That is until I saw what Eresca was eating.  A solid door that locked separated the eating quarters.  The kitchen had another entrance.  One day the door didn’t shut to well and we all took a peek.

Salad bar, fish, meat, fruit, deserts a veritable smorgasbord of tasty treats.  What’s with that?  We got the feeling that Eresca didn’t like Americans to well.  I ate there for a week.  After that, dad and I made our way into town to the local Souk, or market place.  Here one could get just about anything to eat.  Dad and I ended up trying some of everything over time but had decided that the Schwarma was the best thing around for about 50 cents or 4 Riyal.

This little beauty started as a camel that was hung upside down on a pole structure in the butcher / deli shop.  Its head was turned upward and tied back so it didn’t hit the ground and people would trip on it.  You would go up and point to an area that you wanted to be cut.  After wiping the flies and dirt off with his shirttail, the butcher would cut off a chunk and put it on a small spit to cook.  After it was cooked, the meat was then sliced up and put into a pita bread with a mixture of salad, potatoes, pickle slices, and topped with Tabasco sauce and Tahina.  Two of these and a warm Coke would hit the spot, and if camel meat wasn’t your thing, you could opt for goat or monkey meat as well.

The Souk offered other services as well.  You could go down and rest your feet in a smoke bar and have a big round of water bong with the boys and play cards or talk.  You could have any type of writing or documents translated on the corner next to the Koran seller.  You could buy Koran’s in different languages.  Monkeys were a favorite and cages full of them lined the streets.  Gold shops showed their wares in huge glass windows and doors.  Carpets and rugs were laid out in the dirt streets and alleyways for people to view and drive on.  The good quality rugs held up after a lot of this abuse.  Colorful plastic bowls, cups, pots, and utensils hung under every awning so low that you had to push them aside when you walked on the sidewalks.  There were also Tailors from India who could whip out a perfect suit for you in any color in an hour.  Homeopathic cures, herbs, and healers were a big trade as well as acupuncture.  To keep the kids entertained, (and us), the local hypnotist could be found playing to basket full of Cobra’s. My favorite handy item was the “Mecca Meter”.  Only one vendor sold this.  If you’ve seen a compass, you’ve seen a Mecca Meter.  The only difference is that almost 100 numbers are imprinted on the face of the compass instead of North, South, East, and west.  A booklet that comes with the compass has these numbers along with countries and capitol names printed inside.  An example would be Qatar, Doha, would be number 32 in the booklet.  You find this number on the compass face and turn the compass until the magnetic needle is over 32.  You then look at the painted red arrow on the compass face to find which way Mecca is…Cool.  This item would come in handy later on.  These things went like hotcakes.  Don’t Muslims know where Mecca is?

Then there was the flat bed truck that would make its BI-weekly rounds picking up dead beggars from alley’s and doorways.  Beggars would always hang out in front of shop doors begging for food and money.  These were great locations since people were in and out all day.  Unfortunately, the whole country was poor so not much money was to be spared by the locals.  Most shops here depended on tourist or non-locals who would for some reason come down from the main stream area to walk around and shop.  You had 3 classes of people here.  The super rich (2%), who wouldn’t be caught dead in the Souk, the poor, which was 97%of the population, and the beggars (1%). 

  

 This is a typical gold shop showing its wares.  The bangles on the left were $5.00 a piece for 18k gold…not a bad price

Another place we would go was the beach or a small island that was in international waters off the coast.  I don’t remember the name of the island but a lot of British people went here on the weekends so they could “let their hair down”.  You could also bring alcohol here without any problems.

The island was probably as big as a football field and had low shrubs and rocks on one edge.  The rest was white sands and Brit. women with no tops on.  I never looked myself but I hear it was rather astonishing to view.  The Arabs would run their boats and ships out and tie off a few hundred feet off shore and scope them out with their binoculars.

We would go out and do a lot of snorkeling and messing around.  There was an old shipwreck on the East shore that was fun to go to.  One time, a friend of mine and I were out by his boat snorkeling.  We were about 50 yards out when we noticed a fin going through the water.  As we dove down in about 15 feet of water, we saw the rest of the fin…a 7-foot great white.  It was small but it made us a bit nervous.  My friend had a “Bang Stick” with him that he used to dislodge coral from the bottom.  A bang stick is a pole with a 12-gauge shotgun shell in the end that you can shoot if you apply pressure to the end.

Anyway, We were making our way back to the boat when the shark decided to get a better look at us by swimming in between us a few times.  After a few sweeps, my friend gets to nervous and puts the stick into the right eye of the shark.  Unfortunately for me, when he did this, the shark reacted by spinning his head left and up into my side.  I was not amused.

The shark was dead and started floating down to the bottom.  I went topside screaming like a banshee at my friend asking him what he thought he was doing…I think it was appropriate don’t you?  We made it to the boat, took a break, and assessed the situation.  When you bleed in water, it always looks like more blood than there really is.  Between the shark and I, you would have thought someone had butchered a steer in the water with all the blood.  I got one good cut on my side and a bunch of little cuts on my arms and hands but that’s about it.  My arm and ribs hurt like a sucker though. 

We went back down later on and drug the shark back to the boat.  Back at the compound, we snapped a few photos and let the Eresca guys have it so they could make shark steaks out of it.  I took the head and boiled the teeth out and drilled holes in them so I could put them on a chain.  I still have them somewhere.  We never did see anymore shark or to much other marine life for that matter after that.

Me and my buddy, the shark

Only one other minor incident that happened…we Americans couldn’t have drivers licenses in Doha.  Don’t ask me why.  Unfortunately, we lived 5 miles from the job site.  What are you going to do?  We all drove our company trucks anyway without the emblems on the doors.

Well, one day in my second year there, a patrol car came in to the compound.  I was delivering concrete bags to the site and was just returning to the warehouse when I was stopped.  I was on the job site and no where near a public road by the way.  The two police officers had me get out come with them…in cuffs, to their car.  As we were driving out of the job site, my project manager was DRIVING BY IN A TRUCK by the way, so I stuck my hands out and waved goodbye to him.  I’m glad he saw me.

3 days / 2 nights I relaxed in heavenly bliss in my new lavish accommodations which were made possible by the local police.  I swear from the first day I arrived, these guys didn’t like me.

I shared my lovely dirt floor cell that had no toilet or water with 3 other gentlemen of Muslim faith who argued constantly about which direction Mecca was…remember I told you my meter would come in handy.  You have to understand that Muslims must pray to Allah 5 times daily facing the proper direction.  They all chose a wall and prayed then argued, over and over.  I however sat in silence…on the wall, which faced east.  Who knew?…heh, heh, heh.

After the third day, the “toilet corner” was getting a bit ripe.  Without a good shovel blade, you just couldn’t put enough dust or dirt over anything.  I guess that the Emir found out that the only guy that could purchase, get, and deliver his materials to his project, was sitting in jail doing nothing.  Again the phone calls started coming in and yelling commenced.  I was again yelled at…(this time understanding every word) and hastened out of the front door.  Man did I have to pee. (Please reference “no toilet” in the cell)

Other than this, nothing much ever really happened here.  Just standard boring living stuff.  We were always too busy to have much time to mess around.  I’ll throw in some photos in here so you can see some of the sights or things that went on.  This way this Autobiography will look bigger than it really is.

While I was in Doha (2 years), I took martial arts from Pons, focusing on the staff and short sword

 Rats?...yup, we had plenty of them.  They would chew through the floor of your "Hooch".  At night we threw food in the square and, using copper pipe, foam, and nails, would shoot them with our homemade blowguns.

I took up Sand Yachting on my time off.  Thats me with longer hair

This is the entrance to the alley which led to Mannan's house.  GOOD PARTIES down in that area