22 July 2025

Can't quit Qatar

5-min read

My sojourn to Qatar was rather spontaneous, thought about after submitting my resignation from my previous corporate role. After some self-reflection and a few days with fam, I thought I should go somewhere I've never gone to or experienced before. And so Qatar. 

I'll start with Qatar Airways. It would've been the best and most premium flight experience I've ever had minus Mr. Siko (elbow) who kept elbowing me the entire MNL-DOH flight. I imagined him having some underarm disease that made him twitch his elbow involuntarily just to stop me from starting a fight or making a scene. Until the time that I actually got to sleep and he elbowed me again. I was gonna explode that last time just to realize he was actually waking me up because breakfast will be served and the FA was asking what I wanted to eat. Thank God for giving me the patience and the creativity to have thought of that imaginary disease, no fights broke.

At the Immigration, I was all paranoid that I would be barred entry. Behind me were two Japanese guys and I could make out some of what they were talking about and that gave me a little comfort. When it was my turn, the officer was unbothered and just keeps typing while talking to another officer. Then finally, she said we're done. The always giddy in me waved her good bye and surprisingly, she waved back and smiled. She was so gorgeous when she smiled.

The two Japanese guys who sat close to me while waiting for our sundo

At the customs gate, I mistakenly queued up in the section where you need to declare. A guard approached me and told me to go to the main exit but not before asking me, "Philippines? Thailand?" My paranoid mind was rushing again, why those two countries? Do I look so gay that those are the two countries he would think I'm from? Would they stop me from entering? I calmly said "Philippines" yet deep inside, I should have shouted "Philippines" like a Miss Universe introduction. He replied with a smile, "Ah! Welcome to Qatar!".

My first day in Qatar was a Friday. I remember having previously worked for a company with clients in the Middle East that Friday is their Sunday where everyone is out and about, either malling, eating out, and of course, praying. We attended a Catholic mass in a worship center where all the different religions gather. It was a great way to start a holiday.

As someone who's curiosity cannot be satisfied, learning about culture, history, arts, fashion, architecture were my primary reasons why I went to Qatar in the first place. It is also my first Islamic country to go to, not counting Indonesia (since I only stayed in Bali) and Malaysia (because Kota Kinabalu is just like Manila) so my need to learn more about Islamic culture first hand and entering a mosque was exciting. I didn't get the opportunity though to enter a mosque.

But I've gone to the Museum of Islamic Art, National Museum of Qatar, Dar Al Maghrib - which is like a World Expo pavilion for Morocco, 3-2-1 Qatar Olympic and Sports Museum, the colorful Doha Old Port, the fashionable Msheireb and its M7 museum, Souk Waqif and Souq Al Wakrah, Qatar National Library, Corniche, Pearl Island, Gewan, Lusail, Katara Cultural Village, and all the luxury malls. It's also where I rode my first camel, who I've already grown attached to 😭, and got a refreshing taste of the waters of the Arabian Gulf for the first time in West Bay Beach. I didn't drink the waters ha but it was refreshing to swim after touring in 47°C heat.

Manny Pacquiao was the only filipino entry in the 3-2-1 Sports Museum

In my time there hanging out in museums, library, and malls, I noticed that older Qatari men are much friendlier to tourists. They also seem to like hanging out only in expensive cafes and areas in Vendome where the luxury brands are. While hanging out, it's noticeable that some of the men, who wore white robes, wear short shorts underneath hahaha. It's crazy though because the fabric of the white robe is not that thick so anyone can make out what's under.

It's not everyday that I get to see Frida Kahlo

As for the women, there were a very few who would randomly look and smile at me but in the most discreet and subtle way. I hope they were smiling because I looked fashyon while carrying a Versace shopping bag. I wouldn't think otherwise because the Pakistani tour guide we had for our camel ride and Arabian desert tour already told me that I looked like a model ihhhh

Camel ride with Fam

Anyway, what's not discreet and subtle are the young women, on their own without men accompanying them, who were hanging out at Starbucks in Vendome at the same time as my niece and I were there, who were gossiping, boisterously laughing, and even mocking whoever it is they were talking about. I think it was cruel of them as they didn't care that we were there. But they were so inarguably gorgeous that I think Qatar should send someone in Miss World or Miss Universe. 

Mag social climbing sa Vendome

In Dar Al Maghrib, there was a Moroccan grandpa who was so proud of his work. He makes wood ceilings out of a plant. Not sure if it was Olive or Oleander because he was speaking in French and I could only make out a few words. He showed pictures of him in his younger days showing his finished work. Ang gwapo nya nung kabataan nya juskoday hehe  

Why did I not capture the entire photo? Moroccan grampa in his younger days was in the pic :( 

There was another Moroccan grandpa, he wasn't as chatty as handicraft grandpa but he offered us Moroccan Mint Tea. Super sarap and of course, authentically Moroccan.

On my last day in Doha, I went to the Richard Serra structure near the Museum of Islamic Art. On my way back to the hotel after taking pictures of it, a Pashtun on his bike (gwapo din jusko) approached me. He introduced himself, though I already forgot his name, asked me what I was looking for, and told me where the toilet is. I said I wanted Coca Cola. He pointed me to a store then told me again where the toilet is. In my head, why do you keep telling me where the toilet is. I wanted to drink Coca Cola, that's it. Kahit gwapo sya, I am not going to the toilet hahaha! 

Venus rising from seafoam ang peg sa National Museum

That night, I went to an Indian Mango Convention. It was only for families. Since my family already went home a day before, I went alone. I walked along with an Indian family hoping that I wouldn't be noticed but the Qatari person manning the entry (who was also gwapo) stopped me and told me that I should be with family. My head was down but then when I looked up, he saw my face and said "You're family." and he let me in. Jusko it was so touching I almost cried. 

On the same night, I went to the Souq Waqif Mosque. I approached and asked an elder whether non-muslims like me can enter. It was a short convo that turned in a lighthearted one, pinalo nya ko on my shoulder like how a Filipino would tap you in a sort of like hitting you when a joke is shared between friends. 

The mosque in Souq Waqif

In all the places I've gone to, I was called "my friend" or "bro", mostly by men. The only interactions I had with women (and they might not even be Qatari women) were asking directions from the librarian and the museum staff, and asking what I can do in the fashion institute. Otherwise, if a Filipino is around, because mind you, Filipinos are everywhere from the National Library, then Bacha, to the Apple Store, and the Virgin Store, and Gharissa Ice Cream, kababayans will give an extra mile to help you (They call it the Filipino mafia). And give you free croissants too hehe. 


Gharissa Ice Cream with Ate Regina

In Doha is also where I met Curtis Chin, a former US Ambassador and founder of the Milken Institute. We had a small chat and I realized how talkative I can be. So talkative that even this blog is already too long.

with Curtis Chin

With a lot of gratitude in my heart for my sister, niece, and brother in law for taking on this Qatar adventure with me, and seeing friends Henry and Jem, I will forever cherish my first trip to the jewel of the Middle East. Can't wait to go back.

No comments:

Post a Comment