7,770 miles from Oklahoma

Tonight, my two worlds collided in the best way.

Camping in the desert was colder than I expected.

A real-life winter wonderland has come to Al Maha Island in Qatar.

“Darling, where have you been all my life?” are the lyrics to a song by Arthur Alexander.

“For sure my eyelashes will fly away,” my friend, Noor, said as she climbed out of the passenger seat of the car.

Every summer in Qatar, no one finds an escape from the heat in the Arabian Sea.

Rain rarely visits the desert of the Middle East, but that morning, we heard pitter-patters upon the metal-topped warehouse.

The wind, music, and roaring engine overtook our laughter from inside the red Jeep racing up and down the sand dunes on a hot Friday afternoon.

Sitting at the kitchen table, I gaze at the water beyond the balcony and city lights.

The destination was Film City, a historic site in Qatar. Where we ended up was a grocery store in Dukhan.

One wrong turn before the sink hole and another wrong turn afterwards led to unexpected adventures involving a fruit farmer and furry friends.

“That’s what not smart people do,” a little boy standing 4-feet tall announced to the group of 30 volunteers gathered at the base of a sand dune on Qatar Environment Day.

One day, I’m going to miss driving this forklift, wearing cargo pants, and working with the Qatari soldiers.

Inside the sleek, high-ceilinged multipurpose center, people from all over the world looked at books on leadership, cooking running, education, calligraphy, politics, gardening—and any other topic that comes to mind.

The sky swirled in pastels of pink-and-blue cotton candy above Al Bayt Stadium in Al Khor, Qatar.

Today, I smelled coffee, cologne, a permanent marker, chicken, and engine exhaust.

During my final month of being 26 years old, I journeyed 26 miles on foot in a day for the first time.

The color pink—

Hanging from storefronts are the white-and-maroon flags of Qatar. The same flags are posted on the tops of vehicles.

From a distance, we were a cloud of smoke arising from a fire in the desert. To camps nearby, we were faint taps and claps. Inside the tent, we were drummers, singers, and Bollywood dancers.

I finally bought a boat.

However, mine did not cost QAR 1 million, nor take a year to build.

The evening began at 7 o’clock at Subzero Café, where I entered a -10-degree room of pure ice tables, booths, and sculptures, including a boat, camel, clam, car, and horse.

In October 2020, I was offered the chance to work in Qatar. For three months, my suitcases lay open in the floor with the contents—tubes of toothpaste, cans of hairspray, and bottles of lotion—spilling from the sides.

As I sipped on my red velvet latte topped with whipped cream and sprinkles, I gazed at the bouquets of flowers, neon signs, and pink walls.

My first bite of kunefe was at Alaker Sweets at the Plaza Andaluci at the Pearl in the spring.

A vine covered in pink blossoms climbed a concrete fence outside the kitchen window of the villa—tucked away in its own quiet place from the surrounding city.

Walking down the hallway, I hear voices singing, instruments ringing, and preachers speaking in different languages past the thresholds of closed doors.

Like going to the state fair—

Sitting on a short, wooden stool, I watched as Muhammad, wearing a dark blue thobe, carefully strung white and champagne pearls onto a cord.

It’s 110 degrees in Doha. I’m drinking a pink rose latte on my balcony—wondering if the Oklahoma heat has prepared me for the desert summer.

With Qatar in a lockdown that took effect today, all gyms are closed—but the sidewalks and streets are still open for runners.

I watched four planes fly in this morning.

Kristy always lived by the motto “work hard, play hard.”

My trip to the beach turned into a winding walk around the Pearl, where I stumbled into what felt like a dream land—with pastel-colored buildings, bronze-tinted street lights, and aisles of white light-covered palm trees lining the busy Wednesday night street.

I’ve been told, “Writers write.”

It’s the difference between window shopping and walking into a store. Exploring a new city is exciting—but exploring a new city with a friend who lives in that city is magical.

Last weekend, I finally got to ride a camel - which was No. 1 on my list since I arrived in Qatar. Harris, the camel, wore a bright red saddle with yellow, green, and blue sequins.

When I was 18 years old, Kristy and Brady took me to NYC. As a freshman in college, I had limited life experience. I was still getting lost in big parking lots.

I rarely take the time to simply sit and breathe—to enjoy a moment in stillness. Typically, I’m requesting to-go orders, rather than dining in, and walking around taking dozens of photos while waiting on my order.

Vendors with pink cotton candy and ice cream, golden camel statues and “I love Qatar” souvenirs, silver-dollar-sized turtles and purple birds, colorful carpet and crocheted blankets, and handmade jewelry and homemade spices lined the outside of historic Islamic buildings.

After my run on Friday morning, I rushed back to my hotel room to get ready for my next adventure: the beach.

Everywhere I go, I look for opportunities to be active—and this trip has been no different. This time last year, I was still wearing pencil skirts, high heels, and hoop earrings as I commuted from Norman to Lawton for work and taught English after work as part of an internship for grad school.

“I can speak Arabic, English, and French—and I’m learning Spanish and Italian,” Sameh, the hotel executive, told me over a cup of coffee in a skylight room characterized by greenery and fountains.

Being outside the U.S. for the first time is surreal. I landed in Qatar yesterday—and every moment has been one worth documenting.