Before coming to Doha, I had set foot inside a Ritz Carleton Hotel only once before. Since being in Doha, there have been dozens of occasions to take advantage of the Ritz's valet parking, uniformed service staff with permanent smiles, views of giant crystal chandeliers, private beaches, champagne brunches, and those little embroidered cloth towels in the ladies room. In fact, I don't even notice those things anymore. Its just a place we go.
As the wait staff came around to take my order at Northwestern's farewell dinner for those of us who are leaving at the end of this semester, I did suddenly realize I needed a photograph of my place setting, to someday remind myself that yes, indeed, I had been shown off in a truly Ritz ritzy style. Two seats to my left was the NUQ dean, entertaining us with his strange dry sense of humor and complaining about the slowness of the service. Immediately to my right was the President of Northwestern University, visiting Doha to meet with Her Highness Shaikha Moza and attend NU-Q events for a few days.
If the conversation drifted between impressions of royalty, jet lag, seat belt use (or the lack thereof) in Qatar, making movies, halal vs. kosher food, and yes, my flying horse and upcoming cargo plane ride---it all seemed rather typical of Doha. The only one who probably found the setting and topics remarkable was the President himself, still new to Northwestern and newer yet to its Doha campus. As a graduate of Williams College, and both a professor and an administrator there previously, I tried to make him feel at home with a few Amherst-Williams jokes and provocations. At least every time I felt like I said something stupid, I made a joke of it and told him I should have gone to Williams instead. When the dinner ended and I walked out of the room having left my purse on the chair, he was polite enough to tell me that even an Amherst grad might want to go back for her belongings.
This, I suppose, was the night's real reward, this conversation. We end up feeling sorry for ourselves lost on a desert island a lot of the time, but then there are these occasions that never could have happened in the US or elsewhere. A seat at the head table next to the president, an evening at the Ritz, and a public speech by the Dean about the contributions you've made to campus start-up and the lives of the students who never could have imagined Immanuel Kant and John Stuart Mill before you came along. I might have received the purple bag and token book gift elsewhere, as I did when I departed previous jobs, but like my business class lounge routines at Doha airport and the free VIP box seats at the Roger Federrer tennis game, some things only happen in Doha.
Me and the Dean. My outfit matched the wrapping paper, evidence that I finally gave into the Northwestern tradition of wearing purple, living purple, and breathing purple. At least for one night.
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