fun with balls

This week I got my fix of spectator sports, since the Qatar World Tennis Open and the group A Asia Cup qualifying game (soccer) were both in town. On Tueday I got to see Martina Navratilova lose a very close doubles match. The venue was tiny and there was hardly anyone there, so i sat close enough to her that we could have had a conversation had she not been otherwise occupied. It was cool and a bit surreal to see live such an icon of my pre-teen afternoons in front of the TV, as my parents tried vainly to get me interested in the sport that they both played and enjoyed. I know you would have loved to see her play, dad, and mom i have to admit that tennis is one more thing i wish i had let you teach me (along with the piano).

On Thursday night Autumn and I made up our minds that we were going to go to the Asia Cup qualifying match between Qatar and Uzbekistan. After driving counterproductively through acres of construction and miles of diverted roadways, we finally found the entrance to the stadium (which we had been circling while in sight of for about 30 minutes) with about half of the second period yet to play. The stadium is amazing (I forgot my camera--sorry Carl!)--just one more part of the brand new sports facilities that are going up all over the place in preparation for the December 2006 Asian Games to be held here. So we walked into the gleaming new facility and looked out over the sea of throbes (the long white tunics and head coverings worn by Qatari men) and quickly realized that we were the ONLY women in the ENTIRE stadium. No one scowled at us so we were confident that we hadn't broken any taboos by going there, but as we scanned the stadium for seats our dilemma became clear. There were no empty seats on the ends of any rows. In Qatar, men and women who are strangers are not supposed to touch. Should we push past a row of be-throbed and traditional-looking men, risking offense, to get to a seat? Or should we just stand in the back like the outcasts we were? As we milled about wondering what to do, we spotted a couple of seats in the middle of a row but at the top, just in front of the uppermost railing. The security guard graciously allowed us to slip through the bars of the railing into the seats, thereby eliminating the need to brush by any white-sateen-clad male knees. Problem solved.

While of course not approaching the frenzy of a Brazilian football game, the crowd was surprisingly animated and music played throughout the game. The actual soccer was pretty second-rate, but the home team won and everyone was in a festive mood as the place cleared out, waving their Qatari flags and grinning. As we tried to leave, we for some reason found ourselves moving against the tide of the crowd, but despite the crush of people, i have never been so un-jostled in such a crowded place. As we slowly moved pointedly in the wrong direction, the masses parted wordlessly for us. Until, that is, a typical pair of 13-year-old boys approached and as I watched, one of the boys grabbed his friend by the wrist and, giggling furiously, moved his friends hand to touch my arm in a gesture of "I made you touch the girl, I made you touch the girl!". They skittered away laughing even harder, and i couldn't help but crack up in return. It was THE funniest thing that has happened to me in this country.

but the adventures didn't end there! another posting soon to come. love to you all!
emelie