It's the little things...

Qatar is not exactly a vacation destination (no, it's not really a journey either, for all of those fond of bumper sticker philosophizing). No pyramids or historical sites, no white sand beaches, a sometimes inscrutable and closed culture, and easily more time spent at malls per capita than the US.

But there are grotty little gems to be found all over, if one takes the time to look. One such is Gharrafa Tower Cafeteria and Juice Stall (no, not a tower, no towers nearby, and it's not a stall either). It's just one of dozens of hole-in-the-wall juice stores that also serve liver, mutton, egg, etc. sandwiches too (I'd probably opt for "etc." if I ever ate there). But it is one of the pleasures of being here, especially during summer, when daytime temps are 110-115 and it cools down to about 90 at night (sorry, no sympathy for temperate zone types whining about a day or two in the nineties or triple digits). However, walk into Gharrafa Tower Cafeteria and Juice Stall, and you're greeted by a counter filled with boxes of fruit - guavas, papayas, lemons, oranges, pineapple, mangos, pomegranates in season - just what the body needs on a hot day.

You are also greeted by decor that is a cross between a South Asian discotheque gone horribly wrong and a very large bathroom. The walls covered with mirrors and photos of supposedly mouthwatering drinks, except they were taken at about a foot distance with a flash that more or less gives the impression of a nuclear blast, with everything fading to varying shades of white. Above this and running around the entire store for a about two feet below the ceiling is a red plastic display marquee, interspersed by a yellow and blue approximation of the international radiation symbol. There are several tables, each with a box of tissues (in lieu of napkins) and a sink with a toilet paper roll dispenser installed just above it (again, paper products thinner than a couple microns are apparently de rigeur in Qatar).

The key is to just focus on the fruit counter, and the fantastic fresh pomegranate juice you can get for two bucks while a concoction with 20% juice and some food coloring and high fructose corn syrup with some slick packaging and marketing (anti-oxidants!) can set you back five or six buck in the states, depending on what other trace minerals or nutrients you're willing to pay for. Here, they don't really care - it's cold and it tastes good. You watch the guy pick the fruit, hear it juiced, get it in a plain plastic (unrecyclable - because there are no programs here) cup and if it's to go, you get a thin plastic bag that they tie in a bow.

But you get to drink fresh tropical fruit juice every day of the year - this is one of those little things that I really missed in the States and have really enjoyed since I've been back.

Do not fear for me...

For those of you who may have wondered exactly what I've been doing, if I'm well, etc., let me put your minds at ease. I am more in danger of being killed in a road accident than by any act of terror (although some would equate Doha traffic with acts of terror), and to that end, the wise and benign leadership of the country has posted our boys in blue (berets even!) our traffic police, at most busy roundabouts. You can palpably feel there presence even before arrive at a roundabout: you'll just be sitting in traffic longer than if there were no traffic controls at all other than the precision timing and nerves of steel of the Doha driving populace. However, the gov is justly proud of this traffic calming (i.e. slowing) force, and has posted public service signs at many roundabouts to calm our uneasy hearts:




Yes, Traffic Man, a hero for a new millenium and a new world order, such as order of any kind exists in Qatar.

And no, the gentleman in the background is NOT a terrorist; he's most likely a poor South Asian who is trying to keep from frying in the Arabian sun or having his epidermis sandblasted away by the wind. Anyway, with Traffic Man on the beat, you come to realize with profound awe and gratitude that we truly have little to fear except fear itself.