قَلَق
root: ق-ل-ق / noun / definition: anxiety
I just returned last night from my second solo trip—this time: a week in Qatar. I’m often surprised, being that I’m a habitually-anxious introvert, that I can force myself out of my comfort zone far enough that I actually find peace in that space beyond.
“Why aren’t I even nervous?” I asked my mum right before I left, and I think that maybe with time—and age—that comfort zone starts getting a little too boring, and the most anxiety-inducing thing is the thought of being stuck there for a lifetime.
And really, solo travel is a dream for people like me. Getting lost in my thoughts in a beautiful place (and not worrying about losing my travel partner somewhere crowded—I hate crowds). Taking things at the pace I choose (the pace for this trip was 30k steps a day, apparently). The peacefulness of sitting and eating alone with a scenic view.
Plus, you also realise that no travel problem is greater than Google Maps and a Monzo card.
I’m glad I’ve learnt not to let anxieties rob me of moments where I smile so hard that I laugh. And I had a few of those this trip. The waiters who asked “Just you?” after I asked for “a table for one, please” made me laugh too.
I found familiarity in the face of the smiling Ugandan doorman who greeted me so excitedly every evening when I returned to the hotel from my walks. I also felt a comforting familiarity in seeing the Qatari traditional dress everywhere: white thobes, black abayas.
Of course, you can find something to get anxious about every trip. My genetic eye condition had a huge flare up halfway though the week—the worst I’ve had in years—which left me with swollen corneas and a distorted left iris shape which still hasn’t returned to normal. I also had a moderate allergic reaction to some food I had at a restaurant which was definitely not meant to contain nuts. But all is okay.
It was good to see support for Palestine all over Qatar too in the face of the ongoing genocide, at a time where many countries want to push the reality into the shadows. Conscience and consciousness are still alive in many people.
On this trip, I realised that taking things slow is the only way to take them in. And that applies to both travelling and teaching.
When I first had the opportunity to teach Arabic at the university, I started to get anxious. But I’m not good at teaching! My Arabic isn’t good enough! I still get nervous to speak Arabic!
In reality, I should have framed it from the start as a learning process rather than something that I should be a natural at. And, as it turns out, I have learnt a lot in the one-and-a-half years and teaching feels much more natural than it did at the start. I still have a long way to go but, like I said: taking it slow, taking it in.
Of course, there are occupational hazards with this job. Like the two papercuts I got right before reading week. But we can’t let such things deter us from a noble profession. Anxiety or introvertedness shouldn’t stop us either.
How else would I know, if I didn’t push through those worries, how it feels to stumble upon an isolated beach and be alone among the white sand and warm, turquoise water, with just the soft breeze keeping me company?
True peace exists outside of your comfort zone, it seems.
.إلى اللقاء
If you’d like to receive email notifications whenever a new post is published on The Arabic Pages, enter your email below and click “Subscribe”:
The Arabic Pages 