I forgot to put a title after posting but it let me edit

A lot of authors, which is of course what I consider myself to be, come up with their titles after having finished a work. So, I'll try that. I was thinking of a title for about 30 seconds; ideas included: something with Doha that included alliteration because that's where I currently am, but no D word was striking me, Tigers vs. Georgetown because that is what I want to be watching tonight but I figured that would not encompass the full breadth of this post (maybe it will), "A New Post" because that's what it is and "Drrrr" because I couldn't think of anything. So, the last thing I will do before I post this is create a title; it will most likely be the first thing you see, assuming you read this. If you don't, you will see none of this, but maybe someone else will and tell you about it.

Currently, I am sitting in an internet cafe in Doha, Qatar, having spent about 2 hours already on gmail and facebook, I figured I'd do a blog entry. I'm really getting a feel for the culture of the place, at least they have cheap internet. Will, my traveling companion, and I arrived in Doha yesterday in the morning from Cape Town, a city I recommend to anyone. We were taken to our hotel (the Al Liwan Suites) and found ourselves in a suite complete with a big den (for lack of a better word) with two couches, lots of pillows and a tv. There was also a full kitchen, bathroom and bedroom with two beds (Will's request). After surveying the place for about 15 seconds, we each plopped down on a couch, turned off the lights and jacked up the A/C. It was time to hibernate; this is what you are supposed to do in Doha.

Since traveling, Will and I have picked up Arabic. He's conversational while I would call myself fluent, although I still need to work on my accent slightly. This being the case, we would have been fine with the normal Arabic tv channels (which for some reason intersperse droppings of English, mainly in commercials for cell phones and soft drinks), but were pleasantly surprised to run across some English channels that would afford us the opportunity to practice our native tongue. After switching our brains back to English mode we were able to understand the BBC's anchors and reporters and basically got the gist that, to put it eloquently, the shit is still hitting the fan worldwide. If I've mispoken here, please let me know. Bored with the omnipresent negativity, I am after all a pessimist so why do I need these people to darken things for me?, I went to sleep, which was clearly the right choice. It was probably about 18 degrees in the cave. You can convert that if you want: 9/5C + 32.

I awoke after about 5 hours and decided to give the t.v. another shot. Will went to the sixth floor to work out; I couldn't handle that yet. I honestly can't remember what I watched, probably some more "news". I ate some gummi bears and then went upstairs to check out the facilities. I took the elevator since we were on the first floor and I was going to the 6th. It was the efficient thing to do. I walked into the weight room, saw Will sweating, felt sorry for him, then walked out. I checked out the pool, it was warm to the touch, and surveyed the men's bathroom, which had a sauna and steam room. I then walked into the poolside cafe and asked to see a menu. The grilled cheese, tuna sandwiches and burgers did not impress me. After all, I am in the Arabian gulf and damnit I demand a cultural experience. Give me something I would typically only eat late night.

Dinner at the Al Liwan Restaurant was not the best. I ordered hommos (hummus) and eggplants for an appetizer and something I forget the name of now but it was minced meat with oriental bread for my main course. Mohammed, our waiter, came back and told me they did not have the main course. I was disappointed but figured I could find something else without too much effort. I went with the Lebanese chicken fattah, not knowing what it was but it sounds good doesn't it? I had seven up to drink; this was probably my last drink with ice for a little while because i do not plan on using it in Asia (I fly to Bali in 10 hours and we have checked out of our suite, hence the internet cafe). I'm sure I'll forget and get dysentery; if not from ice usage, then from swallowing water in the shower or the sink or a river or some other place where my mouth and water have a chance of coming into contact.

Anyways, the hommos and eggplants came, along with Will's babaganoush and some pita and white bread. I had asked the guy at the front desk earlier if they had pita (served with the hommos). After I repeated this question a few times he said I would have to go to a 5-star hotel to get beer or whiskey; I have forgiven him because he does not seem to be a native Arabic speaker but it was a little annoying. The appetizers were a little oily for my liking, but the Lebanese chicken fattah was quite tasty complete with some grilled vegetables and what seemed to be fried beer, I mean pita. My stomach disagreed with my eyes and head and said no more for now. Mohammed boxed it up and I took it up to the room to the fridge without having to write my name on it. Next stop was the couch. This time I pulled the comforter and pillow off my bed, threw off some extaneous couch pillows, took the cap off my water and strategically set the bottle on the ground beside me within reach of my left arm, and placed my gummi bears under the blanket on my chest so I could grab them with my right arm with minimal effort. I was set up.

Jack Nicholson and Adam Sandler were pretty entertaining in Anger Management (actually I think John Turturro, a companion of Adam Sandler's in anger management class who later becomes his "anger buddy", was better), but the movie could not hold my attention for longer than an hour. Will had gone back up to the weight room after dinner (an ambitious move I thought), and when he returned with renewed energy, he was pretty much a zombie at dinner after his first workout, I felt pretty lazy and worthless.

I hadn't really wanted to unpack my entire backpack to get to my tennis shoes, which were at the very bottom where they have been since Egypt maybe (6 weeks ago). There is a bottom entry to my pack, so I didn't have to, but I did have to when repacking them this morning, let's not split hairs here. I got up, put on supportive underwear, as opposed to boxers, (my jockstrap didn't make it through Turkey), smelled my shoes to make sure they hadn't lost their sweet, cheesy scent since the last wearing (they haven't) and made my way up to the 6th floor (by elevator). I stretched a minimal amount, got on an exercise bike and rode for 10 minutes, I was pretty sweaty at the end of the ride but was feeling good, the blood was pumping. I got off the bike and did some more stretching. I am very unflexible these days, I was doing some yoga before I left and had made some good progress. My hamstrings now feel like they're made of steel and not in a good way. I did some lat pull downs, curls, crunches, push ups (in sets of 10, weak) and that was about it. There were a few other people in there: an Asian girl and three Arab guys, one of whom was throwing around some kilograms. I could have taken the other two. The biggest guy ran the gym I think; he was the dj, playing such hits as Ace of Base's "Don't Turn Around", the Macarena (artist unknown to me) and Shaggy's "It wasn't me".

I just realized this has gotten pretty long and I have been rambling a decent amount. Just to let you know, I worked out again this morning and it went even better. I really feel like I am making progress and am confident that I will not work out for at least another two months. It is now exactly 10 hours until my flight. We fly out at 1:15am and arrive in Bali at 6:45pm, no clue what the time difference is. Thankfully, we are flying Qatar Airways, which is badass, with a large selection of movies, good meals and decent looking flight attendants (all female).

To recap, I have been in South Africa for the past month, traveling from Johannesburg to Cape Town, mainly along the coast but also through the mountains a little bit. I met and partied with a lot of people from all over (South Africans including Zulu, Xhosa, Afrikaans, Europeans, Israelis, Aussies, who are everywhere, and Americans), picked up a new nickname of "the lion" (only used by one person so far but I expect it to gain popularity), was called brew as the South Africans do (see Blood Diamond or talk to Robert Barnwell), which is also my nickname in Memphis, learned to surf a bit, did the world's highest bungee jump, dove with great white sharks (in a cage), had 4 days of diarrhea (probably the highlight), and a bunch of other stuff which made for an all around awesome time. I highly recommend the country for anyone thinking about going and could be down to join you if you want some company. Hope everyone is well and holler at me.

Peace out,
Brian