When you live closer to the clouds …

I now live on the 26^th floor of a high-rise building. While this may be the norm for millions of others around the globe, if you’re a plat-op-die aarde (flat-on-the-ground) South African like me, living closer to the clouds takes some serious readjustment.

That is, of course, if there are clouds!

In my short time of living in Qatar in the Middle East, I have rarely seen clouds. When I do spot them, I am excited because it’s not the norm. It’s the same with the birds. When I hear birds, I stop and listen. Then I try to seek out these feathered friends (but more on birds, and other desert creatures in another blog).

For now, here are a few observations about living in a concrete eyrie.

• Weather predictions

It’s a tad difficult to assess the weather at a glance when there are no clouds, rain or wind in view. In the 60 days to date, I have not yet experienced rain and you’ve read my take on the clouds. I have heard the wind howl twice. When you wake each day and look out, it looks just like the day before. There’s no way to tell the temperature because the aircon is set at a consistent 24C. And you simply can’t step out your back, front or any other door or even open a window! You can, however, assess the haze, dust or mist levels by gauging how far you can see. If the Lusail Stadium (where they are hosting the FIFA World Cup) has disappeared from view, then at least you know your mask may not just be protecting you from COVID, but from the fine dust too. So for now I am mostly 100% reliant on my phone when it comes to checking the weather.

• The sounds  

The external noises of high-rise living will no doubt change from one environment to the another, but internally I wonder if my summation resonates globally … And, that would be:

• Knocks, banging and scraping from those who live above, alongside and below
• The squeaking and whistling of pipes
• Muffled conversations and/or occasional raised voices  

Externally, right now and throughout the night, it’s the sound of construction and/or demolition as the surrounding area is being prepared for the FIFA2022 World Cup. They’re smashing down one of the old embassies below us at present. It’s the second one. Then there’s the ongoing call to prayer, which seems more noticeable during Ramadan. 

• Lift etiquette    

There are six lifts servicing our 35-storey block, which consists of both permanently occupied apartments and hotel rooms. These lifts work tirelessly throughout the day, but are busiest early in the morning, and then from 2pm onwards, peaking at between 6.30pm and 8pm on Thursday and Friday evenings.

You learn to avoid peak times, else you find yourself not only waiting, but also occasionally sharing your space with the “happy” weekend crowd – those who have visited the popular pub downstairs.

Mostly, you stand quietly on your designated footprints in the lift, nod acknowledgment upon meeting and wish each other a pleasant evening as you alight for your floor. 

• Doing a Bev

However, when taking the lift becomes the biggest distraction in your day (because you are working from home and it’s too hot to go anywhere), you also appreciate the benefits of “doing-a-Bev”.

We all need friends like Bev in our lives. These are those special individuals who make it their business to get to know you – and often come away from said interactions discovering that somehow you are connected, be it through interests, sports, places, friends or even family.

In short, you force yourself to engage with others. The confined space of a lift gives you an ideal opportunity to “do-a-Bev”. And Doha is a safe place. (Second safest city in the world, according to a world survey).

As a result, I have met people from Indonesia, Pakistan, India, England, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, the Philippines, Ireland, Australia, Iran and South Africa in our lifts (the latter engagement led to a braai invitation!)

PS:  My take-away observation: most people are genuinely happy to engage and will almost always disembark with smiles on their faces.

• The basement 

Our basement is where the hotel staff have their quarters and residents park their cars. But the lift lobby area has grey fluffy carpets and ornate fittings – totally incongruous with the rest of the area. The rest of the place is probably as you imagine – forgotten, desolate, hot and, at times, smelly.

• The smells

I had anticipated smelling exotic Middle Eastern meals, but mainly it’s just my own cooking and baking flops, the ingrained smell of stale cigarettes in the lift area (smoking is still popular here), strange pongs from the cleaning materials and then the stench of rotting food awaiting removal from the basement. 

• The view

The best part of high-rise living is the view (and I am scared of heights!) We are blessed with a magnificent view overlooking the protected bay. Below is the old diplomatic area which has now largely been relocated to The Pearl area. It is the skyline of the man-made Pearl area that we see across the Bay.

In between, we can watch the jet skis, small sailing boats and dhows go about their business. Above, it’s the in- and outgoing air traffic transversing the sky, with their shadows sometimes falling on the ground below. At night, the lights from these mechanical birds fall across the Gulf’s waters.

In fact, the view at night is as entrancing as the city at work and play by day. The skyscrapers put on their party frocks to bedazzle their glass and mirror-clad partners. Each reflects off the other, while the tallest dancers warn the mechanical birds not to come too close.

So, while I desperately miss the grass between my toes and breathing in fresh air first thing every morning, living 121 metres up above Mother Earth, has its perks – as long as the lifts are working.

P.S. Oh, did I mention, it takes 18 minutes to walk 35 floors to the top of our block, according to one of the fit-looking residents I met while “doing a Bev”.

• WordPress