So it was a rather odd decision on my part to voluntarily return to Al Udeid this week. I wanted to take the Defense Language Proficiency Test (DLPT) for the Levantine dialect of Arabic, but the test isn't offered in Jordan. The math was pretty simple. I could pay around $800 for airline tickets, a hotel room, and a rental car in Qatar. Depending how I scored on the test, I would earn between $100 and $300 of bonus pay each month for the next year. The trip would more than pay for itself.
The first thing I'll say is that Qatar looks much better from the window of a 5-star hotel than it does from the Deid. I'm reminded of Orson Scott Card's fantasy novel Hart's Hope
Doha is a curious city. One evening I sat along the corniche for a while, dangling my feet over the turquoise water of Doha Bay, staring at downtown and trying to figure out why it looked like a science fiction painting. Then it hit me. After 3D artists build virtual cities for movies, they apply textures like red brick, transparent glass, or glossy white plastic. In the hands of an inexperienced artist, these textures never look real. They're too perfectly uniform, too flawless. It's easy to make a gleaming city of the future, but it's much more difficult to add the dirt, grime, and broken windows that make a city believable.
That's what's wrong with Doha. Nothing is old. It's too shiny, too perfect, all neon and sparkling glass. The city feels like a vast construction project. Cranes are everywhere. Alongside many major roads you see orange and white barriers, bulldozers, and piled construction materials.
Doha looks like a pleasant place to live, but like the other Gulf states I've visited, there's not much sense of history or culture. Doha has some impressive sights like the world's largest Islamic art museum, but these can be seen in a day. Its historic souq--or market--is full of franchise coffee shops and Baskin Robbins. It pales beside its ancient counterparts in Morocco, Egypt, or Syria. I could be wrong, but it seems like culture in Doha means getting rich off oil, then loading your family into the luxury SUV and going to the corniche for a picnic.
I was pleased to see how diverse Doha is. Exploitation of migrant workers does occur in many contexts, but it also seems that many workers find a good life here. For every Arab family lounging in the grass at the corniche I saw two or three Indian, Sri Lankan, Pakistani, or Indonesian families doing the same.
It was a little surreal driving my rental car from Doha to Al Udeid. If you spend any time at the Deid, you start to feel that it's a remote island in a separate universe. Believe it or not, Doha and Al Udeid do actually share the same universe. You can drive to the Deid in about half an hour. Thank God, if you're an Olmsted scholar and aren't actually assigned to the base, you can also make the drive back.



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