The Heat is On

I'm guessing when Glenn Frey sang the song The Heat is On, the one from the Beverly Hills Cop soundtrack, it probably wasn't from the perspective that I'm writing about today. In fact, I know quite well what that song was about and I'd say it's anything but. On the flip side, the title fits so I'll borrow it.

Summer has officially arrived in Doha and someone has definitely turned up the temperature just a bit. Just like last year it seemed like overnight we went from beautiful 80s and nice breezes to 104 and hot dusty wind. OK, so it really isn't quite as bad as I make it sound. After all, it is a dry heat. Unfortunately if you spend too much time out in it, it can soon become a case of dry heaves. Now more than ever water is essential, and a little sunscreen isn't a bad idea either. Even the nights are toasty, dropping into the upper 80s and low 90s. Soon however we will be heading back to the United States and we will have a little bit different experience awaiting us: humidity.

Collectively the experiences in Doha in the spring and early summer, followed by summer in the mid-Atlantic prepare us for August and our return to Doha. Instead of a dry heat, as mentioned previously, August and September bring intense heat and moisture to this place we call home. We'll be returning to a place where it's almost possible to swim in the surrounding air and where a short walk outside turns your sweat glands into a sprinkler system stuck on spray. Two years ago when we first arrived here, when we came off of the plane at 10:00 at night, we were hit in the face by a wall of heat and steam that nearly sent me back onto the plane for a return flight to the U.S. Now I have to admit that I'm glad I resisted that temptation as Doha has turned out to be an OK place to be. Still, that first blast was pretty intense.

In a lot of cases, harsh weather brings out the worst in people. We get cranky when we're uncomfortable, irritable when the temps are outside of our preferred zone. Yet we were quite fortunate to have encountered some people recently who were positively lovely people even in the blazing heat that is becoming Doha. Granted they were natives to this land of Qatar, so they're used to it. One of them who works for a petroleum company had commented on how blasted hot it gets where he works when he goes out into the field. Yet at the same time he and his friends were friendly and jovial as they helped us start our vehicle after we let our battery discharge by leaving the lights on. At one point we were unsure if we would get enough of a charge off of the vehicle we were connected to and were seeking a place to drift start it (gotta love a manual transmission) and the one guy said, "My friends will help you push it, of course." Warm smiles and handshakes as we parted company left us very pleased with the experience and the new acquaintances we had made.

That followed on the heals of a dealing with a very nice 23-year-old man working at Qtel, our local telecom provider. Having just changed villas we needed to get Internet, phone and TV connected and that meant a trip to Qtel. We love the branch at Villagio because we've always found the people working there to be polite, helpful and of a generally good disposition. Some other dealings with local companies and government offices have not felt quite as positive and the workers have not always been so accommodating, even some other Qtel branches have not been excessively pleasurable experiences. This one is different though. For whatever reason we get in and out, usually quickly, with everything taken care of. The young man working there was quite interested in conversation as he was entering our details and making the arrangements, and as we parted company with him we commented to each other on how fortuitous it was to have stopped there that evening.

Now, what exactly does this have to do with the heat? Well, nothing really. It's more a matter of examining how we are not necessarily defined by our circumstances. A visit to Qtel and a drained battery could have easily been a rotten evening. We met people who made our circumstances much more pleasant and we arrived back home with smiles upon our faces.

Earlier in the day, I had taken the opportunity to have a little stroll on the track at the school. It's become a bit of a routine to walk on the track for about 20-30 minutes each day when I find a break in the action. That varies from day to day, and I'm still technically on call during those times. Mobile phone for calls and iPod Touch for email, either of which could send me elsewhere on campus at a moment's notice. Still, walking allows me to collect my thoughts a bit and gets me out from behind my computer, where I've spent a lot of time recently getting some work done toward the end of this school year and the beginning of the next. So as I'm taking my walk one of our administrators says to me, "I can't believe you're out walking in this heat. Don't you know it's 46 degrees?" Keep in mind that he's Canadian and that 46 is Celsius, so do the math and you'll understand that it was quite warm. My reply? "I have my water and it's about the only time I have to get a little exercise. Besides if I do it now in this heat nothing I will face in the States this summer will bother me." He smiled, nodded in agreement and walked off, most likely thinking I'm a complete lunatic.

The heat indeed is on. The weather is hot. There's work left to be done. Things happen. Yet, at the end of it all it's our attitudes in those circumstances that matter.

A Thing Or Two About Mothers...

Some have said that I have an impeccable sense of timing. Others have said I get it right every once in a while. Either way, with Mother's Day right around the corner I guess now is as good a time as any to say a few things about mothers and motherly behavior. No, this won't be sappy like a Hallmark card with flowers, lace, cute little puppies and a sound clip of some gosh awful Barry Manilow song. Actually this is more an observation of what a mother is from my perspective.

Now, I don't really know what it means to be a mother. I do know however what it is to have one. Actually I've lucked out a bit in that department and have a couple of them. No, my father was not a member of some polygamist cult, and I'll thank you for not continuing to spread those horrid rumors. It has not been good for my reputation and it has the neighbors staring at me in a rather peculiar way whenever I leave the house. That aside, I do believe I am qualified to give commentary on mothers from a son's perspective.

First off, what is the job of a mother? What does she do anyway? Some would say she is the loving comforter among the parents. Some suggest she's the cook when friends are over. Still others say she's the person who keeps the house and has dinner ready on time for everyone to sit around the table and chow down. As nice as this sounds, it barely scratches the surface.

We have two dogs, and even though both are spayed females and neither has ever had a litter, and they are less than six months apart in age, I can draw some lessons from observing them. In fact, quite recently some of my observations have shed light on what being a mother is really all about. It's really not about conception, incubation and birth. I say that because I've seen one of our dogs act in a very motherly way toward the other, and they are entirely unrelated. On many occasions the older one will lie down beside the younger one and lick her a bit to clean her up, much like most of our mothers did for us when we were infants, only they put us into the bathtub instead because there was too much surface area on us to lick clean without running out of saliva. But she doesn't just clean the other dog up a bit. She also occasionally forgets that she's a dog and tries to hatch the other dog's head by sitting upon it. Now how is this motherly behavior, you ask? Easy. From time to time mothers need to demonstrate who is really in charge by sitting on their childr...I mean by putting their children in their place. And it's always for their own good, or so we've been told.

But motherhood isn't always that much fun. You can't sit on your children all the time and claim to be a candidate for Mother of the Year. It takes a more complete skill set than that. It involves acquiring skills that people spend lots of time and money mastering, but mothers do it without pay. They are chauffeurs in really large automobiles. I've seen mothers here in Doha driving vehicles large enough to live in and give each child his own room, with closets. I have a theory that some quite possibly might have indoor plumbing for such a purpose. On top of that, mothers have to be somewhat proficient in the skills of a nurse, at least a triage nurse. Bandages, kisses on boo-boos and an excessive supply of virtually any liquid that can sting like a nest of hornets when applied to a scrape or cut are her specialties. Many people spend years of their lives in college learning such skills. Mothers do it instinctively, and again without pay. Frequently mothers are highly skilled chefs, mastering everything from canned ravioli to a Thanksgiving smorgasbord. Friends who randomly show up are always welcome too. Mothers don't really seem to mind too much.

Exterminators. They can overcome paralyzing fears of mice, spiders, roaches, and the neighborhood bully to successfully dispatch them all. Some take care of such problems with a paper towel (with a healthy dose of ether for the bully) while others become trick shot artists with a shoe. No matter what though, they seem to find a way to get things taken care of, probably all while cooking some elaborate roast for the evening meal.

Experts at math. Many a mother has taken time to help her children get homework done. OK, so the homework may not be done right, but it is done. And all because of a mother's love.

So really, what is it that makes a mother? It's an unwavering sacrifice of self. Caring, sharing, loving, shouting, hugging, smacking, feeding, and ordering an occasional night in a bedroom without dinner. Most of all, it's doing what she believes is the best thing for her children and trying to prepare them to become good adults.

The mother figures in my life, both mother and stepmother, were not perfect. It wasn't their job to be perfect. It was to do what they believed was right for me. Did they succeed? Well, I'm still alive and I'm not in jail. I learned a lot from them. For example, I know that a hatchet and green paint in hand with the neighbor's white picket fence chosen as a subject for modern art won't endear a five year old boy to those neighbors. I really did only want to make it look nicer. Honest.

I guess what I'm getting at is that a mother is more than just a biological contributor to a child's DNA. A mother will love you no matter what, and hopefully will be able to forgive you for all of those things she still doesn't know about.

Anyway, since Mother's Day is upon us and I have two people to call (oh, and my wife will certainly want to call her mother too) I'm going to wrap this all up and wish all mothers a Happy Mother's Day. Thanks for everything.