Not all dust is the same.......

 Walking down the street about a block from my apartment one finds a store front window that hasn’t been washed in ages. But when you pause and look into the darkened showroom space you see there are four Bentley automobiles. Four brand new Bentley automobiles. I recognize them but have never longed for one. My wild guess is around 120K per vehicle making it close to a half a million, their once shiny skin dulled under a thick coating of Qatari dust. Have I mentioned it’s dusty in Doha?
 

Dusty    25 June 2013

the opposite of even?

With as many as twelve thousand workers on-site, the Sidra Medical Research Center is a multicultural stew. English is the official language of the jobsite but for roughly 90% of the workforce their English language skills would not qualify as a second language.

We all know effective communication is essential to the success of any project. So one of the really fun but challenging aspects of working in Doha is understanding the English spoken with the many different accents.  Arabic, Farsi, Hindi plus two other Indian dialects, two Pakistani dialects, Nepalese, Tagalong, Indonesian, Italian, French, German, Irish, Canadian, Brits, Australian and the Scotch is a good start to the list.

We work directly with a delightful group of youngsters in their late twenties to early thirties.  They are three Lebanese, two Egyptians plus an Indian and a Philipino. And what we have found is that all these young folks have the basic, “see Dick and Jane play” language skills but it's the nuances, the double meanings of some words that leave them mystified.

Anyway during one of our seemingly endless meetings a really strange bit of conflicting information was noted by my co-worker, Leah Bauer who said, “oh, that’s odd”. As I looked around the table all I saw was blank, confused faces. Finally Ibrahim said, “what you mean odd?” You mean opposite of even?

Dusty

Every Day Should Be Memorial Day

Memorial Day 2013-

Those who know me well know I am an avowed peacenik. But I am the son of a decorated WW II veteran.  My father piloted a C-47 “Goonie Bird” and was shot down on December 24, 1944 airlifting supplies to the embattled American forces during the Battle of Bastogne. So my compassion for and commitment to the young men and women who have served our country in the Armed Forces are as strong as any American you can find. 

My first Memorial Day living outside the USA finds me in Doha, Qatar where there are no weekend sales of any sort. No trade-in offers for whatever you can push, pull or drag to the local Ford/Chevy dealer. No automobile races, no baseball games, no fried chicken, potato salad or cobbler. No beer.  But my FB page was filled with many posts remembering loved ones who had  proudly served in the United States Armed Forces.

It’s a bit ironic that in the 1^st decade of the 21^st century this peacenik worked primarily on healthcare projects for the Department of Defense. Air Force, Navy, Army and Marine bases, all over the US and Europe. Two of my strongest memories are of the Beaufort Navy Hospital and Parris Island, both in beautiful South Carolina, maybe the most heavily defended state in the contiguous 48 states.

For pure goose bumps it’s hard to match riding the causeway leading to Parris Island, an elevated two lane black-top road flanked on either side by cabbage palms, with the shoulder immediately dropping 3-4 feet to brackish water. You put your head back, close your eyes and conjure up images of busloads of scared and blindfolded young boys driven in the dead of night to their new “home away from home”. Those that survived the “Crucible” left as men, many paying a heavy price to keep America free. I always thought of my friend, Les Gove, who told me when he left PI he was ready to fight grizzly bears armed with only a toothpick.

Then there is the Beaufort Navy Hospital. An aging red brick building set among sprawling live oak trees, its wings jut out at odd angles from the numerous additions and renovations in its 60+ year life. The original main entry is a covered porch supported by traditional white Corinthian columns. It looks Southeast toward the bay and is situated on a truly spectacular piece of property.  You climb pre-ADA steps to enter and straight ahead lies a wide corridor with a floor has that glossy “spit-shined” appearance you would expect at a military facility. As you move down the corridor you see walls covered with framed pictures and read stories of young men, who with no thoughts of their own safety perform acts of unparalleled heroism. The Medal of Honor, the “Above and Beyond the Call of Duty” fraternity that most gave their lives to join. You walk, stop, read, shed a few tears and never feel more proud to be a citizen of the United States of America.

So I say every day should be Memorial Day. Every day we should demand Congressional action to match the promises made to our Armed Services Veterans.

Dusty