Doha..it’s so hard to say goodbye

​Yesterday, 28 August 2016 was the last day of our 8th year in Qatar. We will not finish a 9th and as we make the big move back home I’ve realised as awesome as my home, Cape Town is,…Qatar will be where a part of my heart lives. We arrived 8 years ago with a little girl. We now have a beautiful almost 10 year old and two Doha additions: a 7 year old and a 4 year old Alhamdulillah! Two boys, both born here in Doha. Needless to say, we leave behind many significant footprints. Milestones passed, goals achieved, small heartbreaks, friends gained, friends lost, numerous neighbours and colleagues, too many to mention. Thank you for making our stay in Doha memorable.

I remember my uncle’s advice, ‘behave like a tourist as long as you can’. That stood us in good stead because it meant that before we worked on settling in we explored the nooks and crannies.of our new home. Our first neighbourhood was Mansourah. Oh how it has changed. I remember walks to the local clinic with the babies. Enver worked a split shift so going to the clinic was my chore because when we arrived everything closed between 12 and 4pm. Full day services are a recent thing.

I fondly remember going to the grotty little soft play area in Al Meera. Trips to Rays Reef were for weekends. Discovering the best falafel in Doha at Morning Fresh and the cheapest lunch at the Afghan/Pakistani bread shop. Enjoying the moist, humid summers while sitting at Aryaas drinking mango lassi while the kids were being fed sugary sweet mithai by the waiters. Listening to the Athan everyday from the nearby masajid.

And the next stage. Practically forcing the lovely principal Mrs. Mervet to please take Zahraa into the nursery even though she was not 3 yet (hands over eyes)  But what a blessing. She made a friend there who has become like long lost family. The child’s mother thought I was crazy as I tried to arrange a playmate in broken Arabic an strength realised she could speak perfect English alhamdulillah.

Some of the most memorable and one of my middle child’s favourite, is accompanied by a small story that he is fond of relating. According to him, “I am the only one that was born in the desert and it was during Hajj time and that is why my name is Isma’eel.”
We enjoyed the Corniche the most. I guess it felt a bit like home. Enver would so his run, Zahraa would ride her bicycle and I would be pushing the pram. Doha made me lazy.

The little one wanted to know if we were Qatari but I had to explain that even though he was born here and had lived here all of his 4 years he was South African because that’s where his parents were from. Then the eldest always chimes in, “But mummy you weren’t born in South Africa…you were born in Egypt.” And the story of my  travelling Wilbury parents has to be retold!

مع السلامة الدوحة�…فرية سعيدة�