James Aalan Bernsen: R&R in Qatar

I haven't had enough rest, or so my boss, an Army major, said. Forget the fact that I went on leave just 2 months ago, and that I even had a whole day off once this month. Nope, he said, I needed to take some time off to rest and relax in the civilized land of Qatar.

I was reluctant to go, not because Qatar wasn't an exotic, fun-sounding place. The people are friendly, and think of Americans less as infidels, but more like good oil-guzzling maniacs whose driving habits have transformed the Qataris' squalid scrap of desert into one of the richest countries on Earth.

No, it wasn't that. I just didn't want to go through Kuwait. Nothing wrong with Kuwaitis either, but as any servicemember who's gone through the transit experience at a certain facility there can say, it's just about the worst thing ever.

But, as my boss informed me, the flight to Qatar was a direct one.

So the paperwork was filled out and before long, I was on my way to Qatar. The prospect of a direct flight was welcoming, as was the last-minute revelation that I would be flying on a C-17 (left), not a C-130, a smaller, older and uncomfortable aircraft.

Of course, as with all military aircraft, you're basically nothing more than cargo. But at least a C-17 has a bathroom.

In a C-130, you're so close to the folks across from you that your knees touch. Not so on a C-17 (above). Sometimes they pack you in on airline-style seats that are 8 or more to a row with no center aisle. That's really not fun if you need to get up. But if you're seated sideways like we were here, you have lots of room. This is the way to fly.

Of course, I could always hitch a ride on an old Soviet-era cargo plane like this, but that wouldn't be allowed, and frankly, I prefer those good-old fashioned American ideas like safety inspections, airworthiness certificates and sober pilots.

I had four days of leave originally, but after a few delays with aircraft and other issues, it ended up being six days. Heck. I wasn't complaining. I stayed at a U.S. base while I was in country, but we got to go out and see some of the sites. The highlight of the trip for me was a drive through downtown Doha (the capitol) and a cruise on a traditional wooden Dhow.

Qatar is basically a penninsula awkwardly jutting from the side of Saudi Arabia, kind of like the fruit on a prickly-pear cactus. It sticks out into the Persian Gulf, and except for a highly-urbanized area in the North, is pretty much entirely desert.

The Qatari national flag. My rule on flags is that if a third-grader can't draw it, it's too complicated. That's why I'm such a big fan of the Texas flag and hate the Maryland flag, which practically takes half a box of crayolas to depict. With the Qatari flag, you just need one maroon crayon and the knowledge of how to make zig-zags. Consequently, I'm sure Qatari third-graders are very patriotic.

Qatar is a relatively rich country, which I'm sure you can appreciate every time you fill up your car with gas, because Qatar, like Saudi Arabia, the U.A.E. and Bahrain, is built on oil. Although the vast sprawl outside of Doha is industrial, dusty and impoverished, the city itself is wallowing in money, and is very opulent:

In fact, if you squint and ignore the Arabic script on the license plates, it kind of reminds you of the nicer parts of Tampa.

They even have public art. Anybody who makes a 25-foot tall statue of a clam with a pearl in it is not too bad. Or random artistic pillars in the middle of traffic circles:

Of course, Tampa doesn't have a mosque on every corner:

Qatar also has some nice neighborhoods that look like they belong in Beverly Hills.

In fact, Doha is so cosmopolitan, it is in the running for the chance to host the 2016 Summer Olympics. Tie your burkas at the ankles gals, it's time for the pole vault!

The height of my trip was the chance to go out on a traditional Arab Dhow. These famous wooden ships were the standard sailing ships of the Persian and Red Seas back in the day. Most have lost their sails, but not their charms. A big fan of sailing and the sea myself, I was excited to get on one of these, but I would have rather been hauling on the tack lines, sheets and other sailing ropes than puttering along on an engine. But at least we made good time.

This dhow still has its rigging on it. Most do not.

Dhows in port.

This is more like what our boat looked like. No sails, but (thankfully) a large tarp to ward off the sun.

Doha is growing so fast, an entire new downtown, filled with skyscrapers, has sprung up on a nearby penninsula within the last decade. Most of the buildings are of modest height, probably fewer than 30 stories, but I'd be hesitant to recommend building much higher on an island made of sand. (There's a Jimi Hendrix song in here somewhere).

I really like the buildings on the right. They have open-air domes at the top, which look both modern and Islamic at the same time. Lots of billboards downtown spread the message of modernized, moderate Islam to any skeptical members of the public. "Progress, not change," they proclaim. The Qataris think you can still pray 5 times a day to Mecca, go on the Hajj and be a good Muslim without blowing up car bombs in the process. Like Turks, but with a better sewer system.