stop whining, you can do this.

Nearly a year and a half ago, anticipating a difficult adjustment to life in Qatar, I wrote myself this letter, which turned out to be a great comfort in my first months here, even after most of my concerns about moving here turned out to be justified. Now, after a transformative summer on the other side of the world, it still applies but it’s also time for another letter, firmer this time.  For eight weeks I was living somewhere I loved every day, working with very sincere, dedicated, hilarious people and energetic kids, on my feet, shaded by forests, eating food grown nearby, swimming in the lake just down the hill.  I was reminded where I am happiest, and Doha has very little in common with any aspect of that.  Here I spend a lot of time driving, grocery shopping, and sweating.  Wood and water are luxuries. It’s not survivable at the moment to spend much time outside of buildings or cars when the sun is up and only barely when it is down.  Until school starts I will let my kids have turns on the computer, watch hours of movies, play arcade games, and eat junk food at the mall.  I have not swum in cool water or just lifted my eyes to green hills for nearly two weeks and it’s not likely to happen again until next summer.

I’m a little afraid that if I give in to walls and malls and consumer culture I’ll come out the other end just as helpless and dependent as I went into this move, and that fear realized could crush me.  I’m ready to stop trailing. Sure motherhood is this wildly worthy profession and all but I got a taste of more this summer and was not surprised that I felt like a better mother during that period, too. 

Dear M,

First, stop whining, you know better.  Part of living so many places, meeting so many people, is that the current news of others’ struggles all over the world become more real and you realize that your own seem that much more insignificant.  You’ve been to Liberia, Guinea, Sierra Leone, you can imagine the anger fear and heartbreak of the Ebola epidemic in those countries.  Friends who fled wars have shared stories with you of torture by border guards and betrayal by long-trusted neighbors.  You’ve had an afternoon-long glimpse of how ALS has changed a family. There is no possible comparison with your Doha ennui or the relatively gentle betrayals that have shaken your world but certainly not ravaged it.

If you dwell on those green hills and how happy you were there you are never going to make it through this year, and you have to do that.  Get past your fear that to make the best of what’s available in Qatar will get you stuck here. You can find ways to be happy and work on how to leave well at the same time.

You don’t have to love Doha but you have to try to do what you can to enjoy your life here. Don’t squander this year. There is still a lot for you to learn here. You have it easy, really:  you have a car to drive, you have food, water, shelter, entertainment, and relative freedom to express yourself. You have a computer with which to Skype, email, or message your friends from here to the other side of the world and a mobile phone too. You have a camera to help you share the beauty you come across. There are plenty of opportunities to connect with interesting people, take classes, and explore.

When you start to feel trapped again, make plans, consult your wise wise friends near and far, do what you need to do to reassure yourself that this won’t last forever and that you will be ready when Doha spits you out.

You can do this.

M