Thread by @MsCarolKitch

My life in Qatar, 2008/09 a thread 🧵

I thought I’d write about my experience of living in Qatar as a white, British, cis-het,married woman. Don’t get me wrong, some parts were great, but mainly owing to the description above. Lots of parts were dire.

My ex-husband got a job for an oil company and I moved with him, keeping our house in Scotland. I had residency and a driving licence … but only because of his sponsorship of me. Because he allowed me.

We were well off there - a well paid job with a decent property and an alcohol allowance. ie: we could buy alcohol from the government depot. That was open only to expats from certain countries, mainly white. Not Asians, not Qataris.

I was a stay at home wife. In our first residence I tried shopping locally for food. I was advised not to do that as the local shops were for “Jinglies” - Asian, migrant workers. Shame as I loved the veg and spices available.

Oh yes - “Jinglies”. In his job my ex had to investigate the death of a migrant worker who drowned when the crane he was operating collapsed into the dock. My ex was told “don’t do too much in the investigation, he was only a Jingly”.

In walking distance of our first residence we had hotels that we could visit to drink. They didn’t allow Asians in. If I recall correctly, Qataris weren’t allowed in either until the foreign minister at the time (emir’s brother??) tried to take the Aussie ambassador for a drink.

He was refused entry to a hotel bar. That refusal meant the law was changed immediately.

Now get this - the nearest car showroom? Bugatti. A few doors down? Lamborghini. Rangerovers and Dodge gas guzzlers were on side streets. Oh yes, we bought a 5l Dodge Durango with a 100l tank. It cost the equivalent of a tenner to fill.

We drove ourselves in general but had a driver available from the company. A lovely bloke who insisted on calling me “ma’am” and bowing. He was fluent in eight languages and had a wife and family back in Pakistan. His six children were, near enough to the day, 2 years apart.

He had 4 weeks off every 2 years & a paid flight home. He used to pay my ex almost all his monthly salary for a box (12 bottles) of whisky (illegally, of course) that he sold to Asian workers at an exorbitant price to triple/quadruple his salary. Still, tiny fraction of ex’s.

I heard about a job at the British Embassy via expat gossip. So I applied. My interview was literally telling me about how it would become permanent and how they’d love me to be there. The only delay in starting was the British vetting form.

So I filled out the form. I was looking forward to working.

Then, my ex had an anger episode and told me he would put me on the plane back to Scotland. I rang my soon to be boss at the British Embassy to ask about my rights. I was advised to let him put me on the plane as I had none.

Yes. No rights.

So I took the plane home, the bus, the train, the ferry and the walk of shame to my local bar. A barmaid there advised me to cross the road to get some cash out of the joint bank account. I got cash to live on about 10 mins before he froze the account.

About 2-3 weeks after my return to Scotland, a friend of my ex died suddenly so he came “home” and was surprised to discover I’d changed the locks. Then, while taking his things from the house, he asked me to return to Qatar with him. I refused.

I remembered what the British Embassy person had told me: I had no rights.

If I’d gone with him, he could have denounced me for adultery (his usual baseless, anger accusation) and I could have ended up in prison in Qatar: I had no rights.

So that’s my experience of Qatar.

I’ve not talked about the wonderful sunsets, the beautiful singing of prayers at the mosque next door, the kind man in the souk who fed me dosas and curry for less than a quid. Those memories were far outweighed by the oppressive, misogynistic and racist experience I had.

I haven’t even touched upon the experience of LGBT people because I have no idea of it. Mine was bad enough.

#QatarWorldCup2022 #Qatar2022

Forgot to say:
Fridays, the holy day of rest. Single, Asian males could not visit shopping centres. Despite generally working the other six days in the week.

Unroll @threadreaderapp