What am I doing here, travel diary, day 27: the supernatural powers of a free Argentine in Qatar

Another cloudy day in Doha. And they go… Two. Of course, the Sun hasn’t even appeared yet. And this is strange. It concerns a new meteorological milestone in our already long stay in the Middle East. But I promise we won’t talk about the weather in this travelogue. Neither of the food nor of the dogs nor of the cats nor of the camels nor of the clouds nor even of the sudden and surprising rain. What we’re going to talk (or write about) is precisely how we talk. How do you communicate with others in a country so far from our customs and language.

It is worth an asterisk: it is true that it is full of Argentines and Spanish speakers who have come to see the World Cup and this makes everything less difficult. And that our real Hayya card is the FIFA accreditation we carry and this allows all our interlocutors to realize that we are Argentines. Then, immediately after, as a reflection comes: “Argentina? Messi!”. And the raised fist or thumbs up accompanied by a broad smile.

However, that bonus of being fellow countrymen with the best footballer in the world is of little use when you’re walking down the street and you have no choice but to speak English. I remind you: here only 15% are natives of Qatar, whose language is Arabic. The rest are migrants from India, Pakistan, Indonesia, Kenya, Ethiopia and more. And the common denominator is English. There is no way to make yourself understood otherwise. There is not?

In our group we have a couple who can speak Shakespeare’s language quite well, who act as interpreters. There are two key moments in communication: the first is when you have to order food and the second is on the street, when the GPS doesn’t notice the billboards that the police put up and which transform a simple journey into an odyssey.

The beauty of everything is that for all or the vast majority, English is not our mother tongue. Therefore, speaking of languages, there is nothing better for a partial illiterate than another partial illiterate. Everything becomes easier. One way or another, sooner rather than later, messages reach their destination.

In principle, to navigate the first few days, two pieces of advice: in restaurants, it is enough to indicate the chosen dish on the menu and always accompany it with a precautionary measure. “not spicy”​, which means, for the uninitiated, “not spicy”. And on the road you don’t have to create too many problems. Traffic officers, who are not known for their friendliness, are always responding “go straight and then turn right” (go straight and then turn right). It doesn’t matter when or where they tell you. They always tell you the same thing. The bottom line is that not even they know where you can go to reach your destination.

However, although we are already halfway through this expedition, this is not the axis of the story. The idea is to tell the incredible ability that a member of our group has to make himself understood almost without speaking a word of English. It’s amazing because the guy speaks basic porteño and always gets what he wants. These days we already think he has supernatural powers. There are a couple of examples.

Situation 1: On the way to the field, before entering the Metro, a local goes down the street with his cell phone horizontally. He was clearly watching the round of 16 match between Japan and Croatia.

-How are you? -He tells them as if he were in Barracas.

– Penalties – he replies without hesitation.

Stop, stop, stop… The other three who were with us looked at each other in surprise. How did he do? The boy asked for information in Spanish and the other answered without hesitation. It may have been a coincidence. Or maybe he learned Spanish in school and we didn’t know it.

Impressive.

Situation 2: in the mixed area of ​​a stadium, awaiting the departure of players from a team other than Argentina or another Spanish-speaking country.

-And… have they all left, professor? he asks an Asian volunteer somewhat impatiently.

–We have to wait some more time He replies by asking for patience.

Stop, stop, stop -again-. How did he do? In this case, I approached after a while and asked the volunteer in my basic English if he understood Spanish and he said no.

Strange.

At one point we thought it might have some hidden power. We insist: something supernatural. But in the end we conclude that here, and everywhere in the world, only those who don’t want to be understood cannot do it.

Doha, Qatar. Special delivery.