I’d Rather Be At Glastonbury

June 25, 2011

Lunar Eclipse

I want to be at Glastonbury!  Or is it that I am craving the opportunity to even contemplate being in the company of so many like minded souls.  The very idea that I could have so many options of cool bands, dance tents and environments seems so alien from downtown Doha, Qatar.

The Dairy Queen and The Ramada - last nights venue

Instead last night I went out for a friend’s birthday and ended up in a very bad piano bar full of men and filipino prostitutes.  The entertainment was akin to being on a bad cruise with the obligatory renditions of Celine Dion and Whitney – my ears were bleeding!
Meanwhile Radiohead are playing the Park Stage – grrrrrr

There is frustration in not being able to stream images of the festival through my shit internet connection and am ‘making do’ with the wonderful 6music coverage – could have lived without hearing Primal Scream do Loaded and Come Together though!  Beggars can’t be chooses and my ears are fully satiated from the amazing tunage coming through the radio.

I knew summer would be difficult here – and it’s starting to rub as the town clears out and mates are enjoying the European summer and all the liberties that this affords.  But I am saving money and keeping my mental health in check – there is much humour amongst ex-pats and the ridiculous situations and hypocrisies we encounter.

There are many hilarious (and many non hilarious) things I have seen that I don’t feel I can write about as it would paint a negative on my host culture, I’ve been brought up to always be polite to your host – so I say nothing.

Migrant Workers 46deg.

I am aware that my perspective is narrowing here – the more I see and observe, the less integrated I feel as I pull back from cultural diversity and fail to understand many customs and traditions.  I thought I would be more open-minded, but this lefty feminist is failing to accept certain levels of conservatism and patriarchy – I don’t think this is a bad thing – I just have to watch my big mouth and keep criticisms to myself and/or safe environments.  I am very watchful, making observations and keeping a journal of sorts – aware of things that can not be discussed in a public forum.

I feel that this is making my little blog a tad samey and negative in tone. which was not my original intention.

The weeks have settled into a rhythm – there is enough to keep me occupied and I am doing lots of spinning and crafty stuff.  I’m swimming and cooking and having a balance of social nights out a few times a week – there always something on.  There was another “pork party” – things you find to do here!

Porky Pig Party V2 - our host

I don’t hate it here, I don’t love it either – i’m in a weird limbo  – earning money to sustain a totally different type of lifestyle to this once I return home to Oz – here’s hoping ‘the end justifies the means’.

I have completely stuffed up the status quo of my apartment by introducing cat number three to the feline world.  Top dog cat Carla has been hissing and growling for four days – not a happy kitty – all in not well at ‘Yakkers Holiday Camp for Cats’.   Kitten ‘Peanut’ is completely oblivious to the trouble she’s caused.

Peanut

I am officially a crazy cat lady as I now have three cats in the flat, I’m feeding four cats at work and am now feeding some strays downstairs at the compound – Doha had no cats until the 70’s – there was a rat/mice problem so they brought in 5000 cats and released them into the streets – hence the number of ferals and a genuine problem.  I went on a visit to the government vet to see  how the system of ‘capture, neuter, return’ works and now drive with two traps in the back of the car – as I said – ‘crazy cat lady’  I’m sure my colleagues at work think I’m nuts as I don my sun hat and grab the cat biscuits every morning to do my rounds.

In closing I guess my mud phobia would have made this years’ Glastonbury a tad unbearable – but a weekend of watching the merry makers from the comfort of my couch would have been great – guess I’m ‘not in Kansas anymore’ and await a time when Splendor in The Grass becomes a diary marker.

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