الأربعاء، 23 يوليو 2014

Qatar Chronicles

Qatar Chronicles is a five-part series by SB Nation columnist David Roth that captures many of the unique aspects of my Qatar experience. I encourage all who are interested to invest a few minutes enjoying them as I have.


To build a nation quickly, and from scratch, requires a certain amount of planning, but mostly it is a matter of doing and making. Planning is important, but it tends to seem less important as things speed up. And so big buildings are built on delirious spec, little streets suddenly have entirely too many Mercedes Benzes on them. There is no way to tell how many malls are too many, and the government is not saying no to any kind of development, really, and so it's left up to the market and the market says YES, HELL YES and up they all go.


To bring the World Cup to Qatar, the Emir is prepared to spend hundreds of times what his sister spends on art; one estimate places the total associated costs at around $220 billion, with a B. The same principle applies, broadly, to both endeavors. And while soccer is not a western art form -- it belongs to the world; some things are true even if Sepp Blatter says them -- Qatar's hugely expensive, ethically suspect and generally queasy procurement of the 2022 World Cup reflects the same general trend. 


It was now dark in the West Bay, although the construction sites, which were everywhere, provided little bursts of scorching light and activity. I had been more or less lost -- first without a sense of where to go, and then without a sense of where I was -- for most of the day. I was prepared to accept Abbas' exhausted assertion that nobody cared about nobody, that this whole city was a terrible stupid cruel tasteless prank, a cruel and crass neoliberal gouge-scape, its architecturally distinguished skyscrapers a Potemkin fraud, each an elegant and bejeweled and jutting middle finger at the idea of a city as a place where people might live.


What Qatar wants with the World Cup, and why it wants it, is yet another complicated thing. But Qatar is a complicated place -- a deeply conservative nation confronted with the necessity of wild, enormous change, all of it due immediately. The 2022 Committee talks about the World Cup as a catalyst of change, and is not totally blowing smoke. But, as can be seen everywhere in the erupting-market chaos of the city, there is a point at which change is no longer a choice or a thing that can be directed, but a sort of gravitational fact.


Here is the most important sports event in the world: played in a tiny country, in impossible conditions; in massive stadiums that have not yet been built, and which will be accessed through a vast network of state-of-the-art infrastructure that also does not yet exist. (This includes fans staying in one of 84,000 or so new hotel rooms that have not yet been constructed.) Those nonexistent stadiums, Qatar still insists, will be cooled with a solar-powered technology that has not yet been invented. There would seem to be no limit on what limitless money can buy, but it is hard to escape the sense that this, right here, may be that limit. And yet...

الخميس، 10 يوليو 2014

Jean Nouvel

At the end of 2013 my KEO project management team moved from the Al Bida Tower into a new office which we shared with the project design architect AECOM. For the last six months I have been working on the 25th floor of perhaps the most iconic of all the towers in Doha.

The Doha Tower was designed by renowned French architect Jean Nouvel. After completion of construction in 2012 it was branded as Burj Doha by the owner, His Excellency Sheikh Saud bin Muhammed Al Thani. The public has noted the buildings “phallic form” suggestive of what Nouvel calls a “fully assumed virility.”

Doha Tower comprises 46 floors above ground, 3 floors below ground and a total gross floor area of approximately 110,000 m². It has no central core, leaving more internal space available to its occupants. The design is unique, the first skyscraper with internal reinforced concrete dia-grid columns, which form a cross (X) shape that connects with the eye-catching cylindrical facade.




"The space between the windows and the cladding allows for a narrow walkway on every floor, facilitating the cleaning and maintenance of the structure and provides a space for the installation of the after dark illumination of the building, an interchangeable pattern of gold and silver, giving Burj Doha a dynamic identity on the Doha waterfront."



The building’s other distinctive feature, experienced only by its occupants, is the bank of glass-enclosed elevators the launches tenants up through the inside of the structure at what for some is a dizzying pace. For me the experience is reminiscent of the videos of astronauts ascending the rocket gantry to their capsule on top of an Atlas rocket ship.


Nouvel’s other project in Doha is the National Museum of Qatar, a future sculptural masterpiece that is gradually taking shape from what upon my arrival appeared as an impossible pile of structural steel towered over by as many as eleven cranes.


"The museum will comprise a series of interlocking discs of varying dimensions and curvatures, which will form walls, ceilings, floors and terraces.


Each disc will be made of a steel truss structure clad in glass-reinforced concrete and the voids between discs will be glazed."








السبت، 5 يوليو 2014

Culture Shock

I've been silent for quite some time, but I've decided to start blogging again. Let's just say I became a bit overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience here. It is something that happens to a lot of "expats" who come here. The phenomena is well-known, and commonly referred to as culture shock.

After some time (usually around three months, depending on the individual), differences between the old and new culture become apparent and may create anxiety. Excitement may eventually give way to unpleasant feelings of frustration and anger as one continues to experience unfavorable events that may be perceived as strange and offensive to one's cultural attitude. Language barriers, stark differences in public hygiene, traffic safety, food accessibility and quality may heighten the sense of disconnection from the surroundings.

Before coming to Doha, I had not traveled outside of the continental United States. A bit of Internet research suggests that's not so unusual. As few as 5% of Americans choose to travel overseas, and the Arabian peninsula is hardly seen as a recreation destination, perhaps with the exception of Dubai.

Qatar's population is about 1.8 million, of whom 80% are expatriates. More than one million are construction and service workers from India, Nepal, Philippines, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka. Many of the technical/professional jobs are held by about 50,000 Brits, Australians, and Americans.

I've now been in Qatar for nine months. My last post was in January, so a lot has transpired during that time.

At work my project management team moved to a new office, and will soon move once again to the construction site 15 kilometers South of Doha. In April I returned to the U.S. for a two week visit with family, friends and former colleagues. Upon my return, I left my shared apartment in West Bay and spent 5 weeks in the Al Saad neighborhood of Doha. Currently, I am staying again in West Bay, house/dog-sitting for my Project Director, who is on holiday in the States.
West Bay from the 25th Floor
To continue this blog means I will be writing about all aspects of my culture-shocked expat experience. When I try to describe what it is like here, the most fitting term is "surreal".