Doha, Qatar

Doha – day 2. Has it really only been two days?
So here I am, about to rejoin the grown-up world of work.

First impressions – hot, humid, hazy and dusty, building sites, high-rises, sterile, hot...

Got to the hotel at about 2am to be handed an envelope in which a letter informed me that I'd be collected at 7 to go for a medical – before which I was to fast for 12 hours – as well as referring to my job title as 'Acaademic Head of EAL' – what??? Later, that was confirmed as a mistake. Nine of us went for this medical and the bit by bit process took us till 2pm. The rest of the group are all working at another school, which is actually built already and has been happily running for some years. In the evening I met with the primary head of my school and a couple of other staff members. We were filled in on everything, which is to say we found out that nobody knows anything. Neither the school (not even the temporary building) nor the staff accommodation is finished, though this is as expected. And with Ramadan around the corner, things are set to slow down a bit. If we have a building, we'll open for admissions but not for teaching. We'll start teaching... well, nobody really knows when. We have an induction day on Sunday for those staff who've already arrived – at the golf club. Thereafter, we'll be going to work every day. “Where?” I asked. “Ahhh.... good question...” mused the head.

Signed my contract today and was given a wad of money from my furnishing allowance so spent a happy afternoon in a mall loading up with the bare essentials to tide me over until my shipping shows up (or is confirmed lost at sea). Tomorrow I'll be moving into temporary accommodation, where I'll be living till October, or November, or December, or permanently.

The hotel is lush. More exotic bathing condiments than I'd ever buy for myself, a buffet to die for with at least 40 interesting salads and great mounds of smoked salmon and mackerel– I haven't even tried the hot food yet. Doormen whisk your shopping bags out of your taxi and whoever hung my thick white bathrobe up this morning has been back to lay in out on my turned-down bed, along with a chocolate and tomorrow's weather forecast. An old shabby like me could feel quite out of place, except you can't because the people aren't like that. And anyway I was sashaying around in a skirt this morning. Yes, a skirt. I even ironed it, after phoning the conciererge for the necessary equipment. Ha! But it's not quite too good to be true – it's a dry hotel. Possibly the only 5 star dry hotel in the country. The good news is that it may be possible to sort out beer-buying permits before the country's one grog shop closes for Ramadan. And there isn't a swimming pool, but the primary head is leading an expedition to the beach club on Saturday where he hopes to get us all in as prospective members. Which I certainly am anyway. Beach, good cheap cafe, sailing, fun boats, etc. Infidel bikinis allowed.

Seems to be a nice crowd, and the only wanker turned out to be going to the other school at the other end of the country (albiet only 50 miles away but it's enough). Hope to meet up again some time with all the others who left for there today. The hotel is a sort of holding camp where people spend two or three days while processing medicals, contracts, etc, then move on – can't keep up with who's who or where half the time. Just as you get to know people they move on. The “organization” is from head office, not the school, so no-one knows where they're going or when, then a driver turns up with a list of people to take somewhere and wonders why they're not ready or even there.

For general Doha impressions I'll try and do a blog entry some time soon as I'm sure you're all dying to hear about the bleak dry land between the building sites, the heat and the general lack of camels.

May not be quite as wow as living in Malaysia, but I have to say I'm really excited about the chaos out of which we hope to raise a school.