Doha Diary we were in the midst of Nasr’s whirlwind tour of Qatar culture. More than a year and a half later, I still count Nasr as a friend. My time with Nasr was not a unique experience. The pattern has been consistently similar: a few words of Arabic and an earnest desire to speak, practice and connect over language would serve as the beginning of other unbelievable memories and friendships. There was the Qatari father and son who picked me up while trying to hail a cab and soon after invited me into their home after an interesting Arabic conversation; the security guard who brought me to a wedding at his family’s opulent reception hall; the students at Qatar University who sought to show me the traditions and culture we can’t see in malls; and just this past weekend, a spontaneous dhow ride with a Qatari family off Banana island after my friend engaged in a conversation using only a few Arabic phrases. All distinctive experiences; all beautiful insights into Qatari society; all the result of making the basic effort to speak Arabic. As my Arabic progressed throughout the year, and my ability to converse improved, my experiences were richer and deeper. Towards the end of my programme, I travelled with a group of friends to camel races and found, upon asking a loitering Qatari, that the camels were not in the mood to race. Our day was salvaged when Esau, as he was called, welcomed us into his Land-cruiser for an impromptu desert adventure. He careened around the area, showing us the racing track, training camels and robotic jockeys. He graciously and patiently drove for over an hour searching for camel bones, which one of my teacher friends sought as a prop for her students. He even let us try on his traditional headdress, telling us which one looked the most authentically Qatari. I should have asked, but I am confident he would have let us commandeer the wheel of his SUV. Because Esau spoke no English, and my friends knew no Arabic, I was able to translate between them, creating a dialogue with a new friend rather than enduring an awkward silence sitting with a stranger.
It was Esau’s first time with Americans, and for some of my friends a first with a Qatari. In a country where expats and locals go years without meaningful interactions with each other, it was the type of cross-cultural experience that transformed perceptions and provided an authentic, basic human view of each other. Arabic quickly transformed a stranger into a friend. Time and again, Arabic has demonstrated itself a powerful tool for creating connections with locals and Arabs here. But why? I can’t imagine that learning Spanish, for example, would create the type of close encounters in Spain as I have experienced
The simple act of speaking only a few words, fosters a symbiotic relationship with locals wherein our interest and effort sparks a desire in our hosts to show us the wonderful, rich culture often absent from our daily lives.
here. Why Arabic? The power of Arabic gains strength from an atmosphere of skepticism that exists between locals and foreigners in Qatar. Many expats bemoan the dearth of native culture they experience in Qatar; after years in the country, they complain that their experiences with the natives are limited to passive interactions in the public sphere. That mindset can perpetuate the tired clichés that are needed to make sense of the black and white robed nationals in their midst. These generalizations lead some Qataris to resent the swath of foreigners who arrive in their country with dollar signs in
their eyes and smugness toward their hosts, eager to exploit Qatar as nothing more than a scorching ATM in the sun. Both perceptions of the other are misguided and based on stereotypes, but they originate from a simple fact: the conspicuous lack of interaction between some Qataris and foreigners, the non-intersecting existences of many locals and nationals. After nearly two years in Qatar, I have found Arabic the most effective and direct way to bridge these misunderstandings. By making the effort to speak the national language, we take an active interest in their country, culture and history. These interactions demonstrate to Qataris that many foreigners are not solely interested in Qatar as a financial opportunity but interested in Qatar for its distinctive and beautiful qualities. The simple act of speaking only a few words, even when only a few words are all we know, fosters a symbiotic relationship with locals wherein our interest and effort sparks a desire in our hosts to show us the wonderful, rich culture often absent from our daily lives. When I eventually return to my home country, I am fulfilled knowing that I will have real answers when friends, family and strangers ask, “What was Qatar like?” When people ask me in 2022 what it was like to live in a dazzlingly wealthy country that air conditions the capital, builds futuristic transportation systems and constructs artificial stadium cooling clouds, I will be happy to describe an alternate picture of a people with a fascinating culture and ingrained values that far precede the skyscrapers. Though Arabic does not always greet us when we leave our houses, the smallest effort to speak and connect with locals leads to authentic moments and enduring friendships. The tiniest effort can provide a doorway into the beautiful qualities that make our new home special. As I experienced with Nasr, even a single word response in Arabic – the most basic, simple effort imaginable yields disproportionate rewards for both foreigner and locals, creating the lasting memories and experiences that will define our experiences in Qatar
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By Charlie Gandelman The author is a native of Chicago, works in Communications at a think tank in Doha. He arrived in Doha after graduating from University, where he focused on Middle Eastern studies and arabic.
88 Qatar Today
september 2011