The Darker Side of Doha

I've now lived in the Gulf for about nine months, since I arrived back in August. I think nine months is a good amount of time to make some observations about the place in a contextualized manner. While I've spoken about what I've been doing here (or more appropriately, what I've not been doing here), there are other aspects in the social fabric of Qatar and the rest of the Gulf that I haven't discussed, up until this point. An incident that happened this morning on my way to go grocery shopping has affected me enough to want to write about it today.

Now it's no secret that the infrastructure of modern-day Gulf states have been built on the backs of workers from third-world countries. These countries include, but aren't limited to, the Phillippines, Indonesia, Nepal, India, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, and even North Korea. As a "western-expat" - a term I use loosely for myself because I'm of Asian heritage and this determines how people talk and/or look at me prior to me speaking, but that's another post altogether - I inhabit a completely different Doha than that of the migrant labourers. Migrant labourers here work mostly in the construction realm, building office towers, expat compounds, and malls. They also work as cleaners, dishwashers, janitors, truck drivers, mechanics and other like jobs. Their countries are so poor that they are compelled to migrate to the Gulf to work in these sort of positions. While many people argue that the lot of these migrant workers are much better off here in the Gulf than back in their own countries, others beg to differ. This is because there have been several news stories and articles that have revealed some of the mistreatment that these workers receive from their employers, anything from not being paid their meagre salaries for months on end, having their passports withheld, living in cramped living quarters some of which don't even have basic facilities like indoor plumbing or AC (which is a basic necessity in a region where the temperatures rise to well over 40 degrees in the height of summer), and in some extreme cases, being physically abused. This is the part of the Gulf that both the locals and western-expats tend to turn a blind eye to.

What I saw today at the mall involved a group of young men, possibly Nepali or Indonesian, who were turned away from entering by the Egyptian security guard, whose job it is to filter out the "untouchables" for fear that they might pollute the malls, I suppose. I don't blame the security guard - this is his job and he himself, is only slightly higher in the pecking order of migrant workers in this country. These twelve men, out on what is probably their only day off, were denied entry into the mall. Not only is it unjustified, but embarrassing for them as well. I felt embarrassed and outraged as I walked by them, me being allowed entry because I lay higher on the social hierarchy that exists here. This wasn't the first time I've seen it, but it really frustrated me seeing it happen today, early in the morning before the real rush of shoppers ever came. I don't know what happened to those guys, but they probably headed back to the main street to wait for the public bus in the stifling heat. I can almost guarantee you that they had no other form of transportation to get them to the mall in the first place.

This is a side of Doha, Dubai, Abu Dhabi, Kuwait City, Riyadh and the rest of the region that exists and is almost usually in plain sight, but that very few people ever really acknowledge or do anything about - myself included. I feel powerless when I see things like that happen. Donations of clothes and a bit of food is about as much as I can do for these migrant workers, I feel. It is a systemic problem that needs to be addressed at a policy level, but who am I kidding here? This region is not a democracy and even if it were, there's nothing to indicate that the locals aren't the least bit dissatisfied with the status quo. This is a country where most of my female students have never had to wash their clothes or make a sandwich because they have Ethiopian or Indian maids who answer to their beck and call. Of course, as with any commentary on a region, population or community, there is an understanding that there will always be exceptions to the norm and there are. Only, there aren't enough - most of the population, local and expat alike, live comfortably in the status quo and easily slip into their daily lives willfully oblivious to the injustices that exist just outside their door, or rather, their compound.

There are days when I really dislike being here, I have to admit. This morning was one of them.