Aroundegon Day Two: The St. Paul Rodeo

We went to the evening show and drank a few beers.

Today was a rest day in (and around) St. Paul. Kjerstine and I ran some errands in Newberg and then met up with my stepsister Keely and my in-laws Gordy and Suellen to go to the rodeo. This was the third or fourth time I'd been to the St. Paul Rodeo, so not much new for me, but I enjoyed sitting out with family and drinking light, cold beer.

I'll spend one more day in St. Paul and then I'm off to Albany to see my grandparents.

This post is part of a series on my bicycle tour around Oregon. You can find my other posts here.

Aroundegon Day One: Portland to St. Paul

The ferris wheel at the St. Paul Rodeo. Kjerstine and Claudia and Frank are up there somewhere.

Distance: 32 miles
Elevation gain: 1,600 feet

Here we go! Gordy, my father-in-law, decided to join me for the first part of my journey. Before we left, I used a luggage scale to weigh my stuff and my bike. Everything came to 65 pounds: 26 for my gear, 35 for the bike (including racks, and fenders), and 4 pounds of water.

We left around 7:45 a.m. and began the short trip southwest to St. Paul, where my sister lives with her family. I'd taken this ride a week earlier as a test run and was pleasantly surprised to find it a little easier the second time around. We took the Fanno Creek Trail out of Portland, then Scholls Ferry to Scholls, and then Highway 219 up Chehalem Mountain. The sun was bright and hot, but not debilitating. Once we reached the top, Gordy headed back to Portland and I continued into St. Paul with a brief stop in Newberg to get a cheeseburger from Burgerville and chat with Rachael on the phone.

Once in Newberg, Kjerstine and I took her three kids Claudia, Frank, and Henry to the fairgrounds of the St. Paul Rodeo to ride the rides. I ate a corn dog. It was delicious.

I'm here for the next two days and will head out to Albany on Sunday.

This post is part of a series on my bicycle tour around Oregon. You can find my other posts here.

Aroundegon: Setting Out

All dressed up in Portland with a dozen or so places to go.

Today I set off for an 18 day, 800 mile tour around Oregon. I'll start from Portland, head down the Willamette Valley, cross the Cascades at the McKenzie Pass, weave out to Pendleton, follow the Columbia Gorge to Hood River, and then return to Portland via Lolo Pass. There are a lot of thoughts on my mind right now, but this is one is at the top:

It's going to be hard.

I have hundreds of miles and thousands of feet of climbing in front of me. It'll be hot, and lonely, and I'm fully expecting to regret ever embarking on it at one point, or another, or both. So why go?

When John F. Kennedy made the case for a manned mission to the moon at Rice University in 1962, he said:

"We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard..."

So while my trip is a few hundred thousand miles short of the moon, I'm still inspired by what Kennedy said. It helps me remember that hardship leads to meaning, and what is travel besides a search for meaning?

I'm going to try to post each day during my trip and you can follow along here.

A Few Highlights from the Past Year

My brother Forrest at the Bayon Temple in Angkor, Cambodia.

Traveling with Family

Rachael and I have yet to take an official honeymoon of our own, but my brother Forrest and his wife Vanessa were kind enough to invite us on theirs (or maybe we invited ourselves…). We spent a few days exploring the temples of Angkor in Cambodia (pictured above) and then took a few buses to an elephant refuge on the other side of the country to complete our week together. They continued on to Vietnam and Thailand and Rachael and I headed back to Doha. We would've liked to have been by their side for their entire honeymoon (maybe not by their side, per se, but you get the idea) but unfortunately Rachael and I had to return to work.

Traveling with Forrest meant a lot to me. We didn't get along well when we were younger (hated each other, really), so every step toward a strengthened bond has been good and welcome. It began when we started working for the same maintenance company in 2006, jobs we held together for several years. In 2009 we traveled together for a week in New York City, and now we've added Cambodia to our list, too. All of this deserves its own post, so I'll save it for another day.

Meeting family abroad, whether in Doha or elsewhere, is one of my favorite parts about living overseas. It's like show and tell, but for your life. In addition to the week we spent with Forrest and Vanessa, we traveled in Andalucía with Rachael's parents Gordy and Suellen and our close friends Jane and Joan (who were also the officiants at our wedding).

 

Me, Rachael, Bethany, and Jake on the abandoned bobsled track in Sarajevo.

Making New Friends

Living and working here feels a bit like being in college because you spend a lot of time with the same group of people. Our colleagues at work are our neighbors at home. We eat together, we hang out together, we take trips together. Needless to say, having a few good friends can make or break the entire experience. When Mike and Liz didn't return to Qatar with us this year (more on that in a minute) and most of our neighbors moved to another compound closer to the center of the city, we were a bit worried.

Fortunately, we lucked out by making friends with another recently married couple named Jake and Bethany. He's from Arkansas and she's from Washington. We spend a lot of our free time together and have even taken a few trips together. Rachael and I are really lucky to have them here.

 

Me and Jake, wading into the Inland Sea. That's Saudi Arabia on the other side of the water, just 1,500 feet away.

Exploring Qatar and Her Neighbors

I say this in one form or another damn near every time I write a blog post, and here it goes again: there's not a whole lot to do in Qatar. That said, if you look hard enough plenty adventure awaits. This year we went camping several times, swam in the small channel that separates Qatar from Saudi Arabia (photo above), ate at a McDonald's in Saudi Arabia, and rode an elevator up the Burj Khalifa in Dubai, the tallest building in the world.

 

I really like how this year's yearbook turned out.

Making a Yearbook

The only documentation of my time in elementary school was the class photo. At the elementary school I work at now, on the other hand, we have a full-color 192 page yearbook filled with hundreds of beautiful pictures. Needless to say, things are different here. Anyway, I was in charge of putting the yearbook together this year and I'm proud of how it turned out.

 

Notes from one of the calculus courses I took this year.

Taking Classes

We spend a lot of time at home (not a lot to do here, few people to visit, awful traffic, etc.) so it's important to have a way to pass the time. Last year my hobby was building and programming a dust sensor to measure air pollution in Qatar, this year, I took a couple calculus classes through Oregon State University (and spending a lot of time on Khan Academy). I plan on completing my second bachelor's degree in physics when we're back in Oregon.

 

A plane at Portland International Airport. Photo by Eric Prado.

Summing Up

If I had to sum up our second year working and living in Qatar, I'd choose this one: better. Rachael and I explored more, made more friends, learned more about the culture, and understood our jobs better. Most of all, this year was just easier than last year. We'd already jumped through most of the immigration hoops, figured out how to get around, settled into our house, etc. There was, however, one major downside: Rachael and I shared our first year in Qatar with our close friends Mike and Liz and their daughter Piper, but they didn't return for a second year. I'd rather have them next door here in Doha, but ten months apart will make our reunion in Oregon all the more sweet.

So now we're on to a summer away from Qatar. If you're interested in what we'll be up to, check out my post from last week.

Summer Plans

One of my favorite pictures from last summer, taken from Mount Hood. That's Mount Jefferson in the background to the left.

In a few days Rachael and I will leave Qatar for our summer vacation. I'm headed straight back to Oregon for 63 days of Pacific Northwestern Glory, and Rachael will fly to Peru to lead a group of high schoolers on a four week study abroad trip before joining me in Oregon.

Last summer was more scattered for us. We started off with a brief trip in England and Wales and then went to Las Vegas for my brother's wedding. We spent a few weeks in Oregon and then flew to Minnesota to visit Rachael's extended family. After a few more weeks in Oregon we were back in Qatar, where this whole adventure began.

This summer is shaping up to be a little bit more laid back. But I'm only speaking for myself now, since Rachael's story is diverging, briefly, from my own.

A rough map of the route I plan to ride this summer.

In order to keep myself busy while we're apart, I've planned a long bike ride through Oregon to visit people who are important to me. My first stop will be St. Paul, where my sister and brother-in-law live, then onto Albany to visit my maternal grandparents, then over the Cascades to visit our former partners in Qatari crime, Mike and Liz and their daughter Piper. From there I plan to head northeast toward Pendleton to visit my paternal grandparents. I'll head back to Portland via Hood River, where I'll stay with with the wonderful folks who hosted our wedding, Mike and Leanne. It'll be good to be back on a bike again, but I'm also expecting it to be a great challenge. I don't have any plans to blog along the way, but I hope to write it up once I get back in late July.

Rachael is sure to be mostly incommunicado (that's Spanish!) during her trip to Peru, but maybe I can convince her to write a guest post on her experiences once she's back (no promises, but a few encouraging comments below wouldn't hurt).

How I Pack, In a Nutshell

My suitcase for our recent trip to the Balkans.

Over the past few years I've been working on a system to make packing as easy as possible. This isn't about how I fold my shirts, or where I stuff my socks, or the best suitcase to buy — this is just a few steps I follow every time I pack for a trip. I'm confident that others might find it helpful, so I wrote it down here:

  1. A couple weeks before I leave, I make a list of the things I think I'll need. Everything I'm going to need goes on this list: three shirts, two pairs of pants, toothbrush, toothpaste, etc. As my departure gets closer and I think of more things I'll need, I add them to the list. You could use pen and paper, but I find it better to keep the note on my phone so I can find it again later.
  2. Now that I have a list, packing my bag is as simple as collecting the stuff I need and checking it off my list.
  3. When it's time to pack for another trip, I look through my old packing lists for one that matches up with my current trip in terms of climate and activities. I adapt it (if necessary), and start packing.

Anyone who knows me won't find it surprising that I prepare packing lists and then file them away to be used again for future trips. Maybe you'd find it self-evident (as I do) or on the other hand, overly anal, and maybe it is. But the key is that when you write down a list first, you pack your bag in your head before you ever have to start running around the house trying to figure out what to bring. In my experience, this makes the whole thing a lot easier.

We Finally Got a Snow Day, Except with Dust Instead of Snow

The view out of our upstairs window looked like a medieval European painting.

On Thursday, I woke up with a bad taste in my mouth. And I don't mean like a bad feeling about something, I mean I was literally tasting something bad as I breathed in. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, so I went about my usual morning ritual: shower, clothes, waking up Rachael, and heading downstairs to make breakfast. When I turned on the light and looked across our living room, I realized where the bad taste was coming from.

We've experienced dust storms here before, and sometimes they blow a little bit of dust into the house, but this was so severe it looked like we'd left a window open all night long. In fact, the air outside looked just as heavy as the air inside. The sun is usually up by this time in the morning, but the dust in the air was so thick that it had been entirely obscured. The dust had literally blotted out the sun. It was like something out of the Twilight Zone.

School was canceled because of the dust storm, but we spent most of our new-found free time cleaning up its aftermath.

Shortly after I realized what was going on I saw an email which our school's principal had sent in the middle of the night. School was canceled for students (the first "snow day" we've ever experienced here) but staff were still expected to go to school. So after we ate breakfast and finished getting ready, Rachael and I covered our mouths with wet cloths and walked out to the car.

As we were driving, I was reminded of a book I read a few years ago called "The Worst Hard Time," which chronicles the experiences of a few people who survived (or didn't survive) the American Dust Bowl of the 1930s.

Every horizontal surface in the house was coated with this extremely fine dust. It was like our house had been empty for years.

Almost as soon as we arrived at school we were told to return home, which we did. By this time a weather shift had started to move fresh air into the city so we left our front door open to allow the air to clear out.

Some people stopped over on their way home from school to celebrate (or at least endure) our dust day, and then we took to cleaning. The fine, powder-like dust had covered everything, and as such, everything had to be wiped down, and vacuumed, and mopped. Several hours later, once our house was back to normal, I looked out the window and thought, "Another dust storm could blow through tomorrow, and I'd have to do this all over again." Until then, I'll be a little more thankful for the clear (and semi-clear) days we often enjoy in Doha.

To Spain and Back Again

Looking up on the streets of Sevilla in southern Spain.

In case you haven't heard me say it a dozen times already, alcohol and pork, both "haram" in Islam, are pretty difficult to come by in Qatar. There is one store where you can buy them, but in order to shop there you literally need your employer's permission, plus a hefty deposit which I'm sure is confiscated should you break any of the rules related to drinking alcohol or eating pork. All of this would be well worth it if it were top notch, but the only stuff we get in Qatar is pretty mediocre.

So whenever we travel outside of Qatar savoring the things we usually go without becomes an important part of the experience, whether because the food or drink is extremely regulated or simply because it's rare in the Middle East. In Vietnam it was the impossibly fresh fruits and vegetables, in England and Wales the warm beers, different in every town. Rachael and I joked a couple days ago that we really ought to just plan our vacations around food, but maybe that's what we've been doing all along.

Me in Madrid, eating churros and drinking thick hot chocolate.

While food is an important part of travel, it's not the only part. So, when we decided to return to Spain for our week-long winter vacation, there were other factors to consider besides Spain's incredible tradition of transforming pig meat into some of the most divine foods ever created. First and foremost was coordinating our trip with Rachael's parents, Gordy and Suellen, who share our passion for travel. Once we'd chosen a country we had to pick a small region to travel in — after all, we only had a week.

Rachael and I traveled to Catalonia in northeastern Spain last year, but because of it's strong separatist tradition it didn't feel much like Spain at all (they even speak a different language, Catalán). So in hopes of experiencing more Spanish culture, plus some sunshine, we decided to spend our time in Andalucía, a dry region in the south known for its Moorish history.

We met up with Gordy and Suellen at the Atoche train station in central Madrid and then took the bullet train (180 miles per hour!) to Sevilla, the capital of Andalucía. We ate a dinner of tapas (small plates) close by and then retired to our apartment near the bullfighting ring, thankful to slip between the sheets of our first proper bed in two days.

We spent two full days in Sevilla walking through its old, narrow, winding streets and paths, stopping throughout the day for all kinds of tapas on small plates and one kind of beer in small glasses. Not once did we step in a cab, or on a bus, or take a subway. That pretty much sums up why Europe can be such a wonderful place: walkability and delicious food. And of course the feeling that the place (and I suppose us, by proxy) is part of some long, great tradition of civilization. Or at least that's the idea.

Jane, Suellen, and Joan, planning in the house we rented outside Granada.

The night before we left on the bus from Sevilla to Granada our party of four become one of six. Two of our fairy godmothers, Jane and Joan, old friends of Rachael's family and the women who married us, arrived at our apartment; less one bag, lost by Delta en route. Still, they were in good spirits, and it was heartening to be in their presence again.

Rather than staying in the city center, as we had in Sevilla, we opted instead for a beautiful old country house set on the side of a hill in a small valley about thirty minutes outside of Granada near a small village called Güejar Sierra.

The house made me feel like I'd been transported 200 years back in time, and not just because of the way that it looked. The bedrooms each had small radiant heating units, but the rest of the house was unheated save for a single, open fireplace in the living room on the lower level. It must've been 40 degrees outside when we arrived, and the temperature felt exactly the same inside. The host provided a decent stack of firewood, but it had sat out in the rain recently and was difficult to get going. Once we did I found the place quite cozy, maybe even romantic, though only in a triumph in the face of adversity kind of way.

The cat really took to the couch.

We hadn't made any plans for our first of two days in and near Granada, but I always find a way to keep busy. I had math homework to do, a blog post to write, and pictures to edit. Instead, Rachael and I just sat in front of the fireplace talking all afternoon about where we've been and where we're going, feeding in a log or two whenever the flames died down too low. There couldn't have been a better way to spend it.

There were designs like this everywhere in the Alhambra, all different, but also consistently holding to the same geometric themes.

On the second day we went into Granada itself, a city of about 240,000 and the last holdout of the Moors before they were driven out of Spain in 1492. We spent most of the day touring the final Moorish stronghold, the Alhambra, meticulously constructed in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries on top of a hill overlooking the rest of the city. Two things about the Alhambra: First, it was really, really cold. I wore a long underwear top and bottom, plus another t-shirt, fleece jacket, down vest, wool hat, gloves, and wool socks, and it still wasn't enough. Second, the incredible thing about the Alhambra is the incredibly intricate Arabic patterns set into the walls and doors and ceilings and floors in wood, and stone, and plaster, and tile. All of this done without a proper ruler or compass — just string stretched taught or rotated around a point. Rachael bought a book in the gift store about how the designs were created and found that even the "moderately difficult" patterns required dozens of steps and countless individual lines.

Rachael on our way back up toward the Alhambra, right before the snow began to stick.

As we walked back to our car it began to snow. The temperature was still above freezing so we didn't have to worry about ice, but when we arrived at the cabin we were treated to a valley freshly coated with snow, if only an inch or two. While the snow made the house feel even colder, it made the fire feel even warmer, especially because I was now figuring out how to get the massive chunks of evergreen oak to burn. It all made for an excellent mental break from what we usually see in Qatar.

We took this just before we headed to the bus station in Granada. From the left, me, Rachael, Suellen, Gordy, Jane, and Joan.

The next morning we braved a very icy road to head back into the bus station in Granada, where Rachael gave Gordy, Suellen, Jane, and Joan a hastened goodbye and boarded a bus bound for Madrid, where we'd spend the afternoon walking around before getting a few hours of sleep and flying back to Doha.

Qatar Questions: What's the food like?

We ate kabsa, a traditional Arabian dish, at the home of a Saudi friend.

A few weeks ago Mike asked me to write about Qatari food. At first glance it seems a simple topic, but the more I thought about it, the harder it became to choose a focus. Should I talk about what people here ate a hundred years ago, or today? Should I focus on expats, who make up 85 percent of Qatar's population, or locals? What if most people here are actually eating food from Lebanon, or Dubai, or America? And anyway, how do you really say where any particular food comes from?

Those are big questions better suited to professionals — I'm just a guy with a blog. Keeping that in mind, I decided to just find a Qatari restaurant and write about my meal.

If only it were that easy. It turns out that there aren't actually any Qatari restaurants in Qatar (that I could find, anyway). How weird is that? You'd expect to see them on every corner, since we're in Qatar, but that's just not the case. There was once a Qatari restaurant at Souq Waqif, but it closed sometime last year.

Since I couldn't find any Qatari restaurants, I decided to start calling around to Middle Eastern restaurants to ask them if they served a meat and rice dish called machboos, which I'd learned is a staple of the traditional Qatari diet. Unfortunately, I couldn't find a single restaurant serving machboos, nor its Saudi Arabian counterpart, kabsa. I even enlisted a Saudi Arabian friend named Amal who lives in Doha to look around on my behalf (many of the signs here are only in Arabic), but she came up empty-handed, too.

Luckily, Amal isn't easily discouraged. She offered to cook kabsa (again, the Saudi version of machboos) for us at her house. Once I had kabsa in front of me (see the photograph at the top of the post), with its basmati rice, chicken, tomato sauce, onions, garlic, and spices, I realized that I'd eaten a very similar dish (except with goat meat instead of chicken) at our school picnic last winter.

The mother of one of our students made this machboos for our school picnic.

In addition to machboos (pictured above), it's pretty easy to find a hot drink here called karak, made with black tea, sweetened-condensed milk (or cream and sugar), and spices. It tastes a lot like the masala chai you'd get at an Indian restaurant, except that it's called karak and (as far as I know) you can only find it in Qatar.

How to Get an e-Gate Pass in Qatar

Get your e-Gate pass at Al Gharafa Immigration Department, located just off the Doha Expressway on the way to Education City. Map by Google.

Update: October 26, 2015
I went with a friend today and found that the Immigration Department was open at 6:30 a.m. (maybe earlier) and that you can get the e-Gate Pass at the same time your apply for it. The guide below should still be accurate, but please read through the comments to see what other people are seeing when they go.

Update: October 13, 2015
I've received a few comments recently from people who followed my guide and wanted to update it with their experience. Lori said she started the process at 6:30 a.m. and was able to pick up the card at that same visit. John, on the other hand, said that eye tests and fingerprints happen in the morning (6 a.m. to 1 p.m.) and that cards can be picked up in the afternoon (4 p.m. to 7 p.m.). This has never been my experience, but things change day to day, so just try to go at 6:30 a.m. and then hope for the best.

This morning I went to the Gharafa Immigration Department to get our e-Gate passes, which will allow me to skip the normal immigration lines at the airport when leaving or returning to Qatar. It took a little bit of asking around to figure out how to do this, so I thought I'd write up a little guide.

  1. Gather your Qatar ID card, your passport, and a credit or debit card (I also brought along cash, just in case). Wear clothes that cover your knees and shoulders (this is true for visiting any government office in Qatar). You may not be let in with a bag or a briefcase, but I'd recommend bringing a book or Kindle in case you have to wait for a while.

The eastern side of The Ghafara Immigration Department. The entrance is on the other side.

  1. Go to the Gharafa Immigration Department off of the Doha Expressway near Education City. If you need help finding it, just look at the map above. Alternatively, click this link and type in your starting location and Google will give you directions. According to Google, it's open from 6 a.m. to 1 p.m. and from 3 p.m. to 7 p.m., Sunday through Thursday. I went on a Tuesday morning around 7 a.m. and didn't have any problems, but a friend went a few weeks ago and found them closing around 4 p.m. Just to be safe, I'd try to go in the morning.

Enter Door 2 underneath the sign that says Expatriate Affairs Department.

  1. Park on the street outside or, if you can, in the parking lot on the west side of the building. Look for Door 2 (pictured above) in the middle of the building. It has a sign above it which reads: Expatriate Affairs Department. Enter here.
  2. Once you're inside Door 2, walk straight forward until you see a small cubicle to your right with a man and a digital kiosk. There might a line, in which case, wait your turn.
  3. A man will be standing at the kiosk to help you. He'll take your Qatar ID card and then use the kiosk to scan your eyes and fingerprints, take your picture, and record your signature. Once you're finished he'll give you back your Qatar ID card and point you toward a counter where you'll take a number to wait your turn for to pay.
  4. When your number appears on the red screen, go to the counter it directs you to. They'll take your Qatar ID card and look at your passport. You'll have the option of paying for a one year, two year, or three year e-Gate pass. I paid with a credit card — I'm not sure if you can pay with cash. There's conflicting information online about how much they cost, but here's what they quoted while I was there:
  • 1 year: 200 Qatari riyals
  • 2 years: 250 Qatari riyals
  • 3 years: 300 Qatari riyals
  1. The person who you paid will ask you to sit down for a few minutes while they make you a new, e-Gate enabled Qatar ID card with a chip in it. They'll call your name when they're ready for you.
  2. Once you have your chipped Qatar ID card back, take it to one of the two digital kiosks to the left of the door you came in. There should be someone standing at each of them. Hand one of them your Qatar ID card and they'll use the kiosk to activate it. It probably took me about thirty minutes from when I walked in the door to when I left with my new Qatar ID card.

And that's it! Now that you have your e-Gate enabled Qatar ID card you'll be able to pass through immigration at Hamad International Airport without waiting in the long line or stamping your passport.