The Big Announcement

Though I have been in Doha for less than two weeks, my heart was fully behind the Qatari bid for the 2022 World Cup. While it is far more likely that I will be in one of the other bidding nations in twelve years, such as the US or UK, I wanted it for this little emirate. It is already amazing what they have done and are doing here, and I'm excited to see what they will do in preparation for such a tourney.
Some of the Williams office went to Souq Waqif to view the announcement, others went to the Aspire Zone-- both of which had large screens set up. I would have liked to do the same, but we had plans for others to come to dinner. So we were in our room in the Ezdan, and I was on pins and needles awaiting the announcement. When the note card with "Qatar" written upon it was pulled from the envelope both Chandler and I let out a great cheer.
Instead of going to a Christmas bazaar as planned, I chose to tag along with Max and an Italian visiting to help the team to the Corniche to soak up the atmosphere. We headed towards the bay from City Center, walking on the side of the street, where traffic was crawling. The pavement was covered with streamers and confetti. Everyone was out, everyone was honking and waving flags and hanging out of windows and sun roofs, even sitting on top of cars as they drove. Music was pumping, vuvuzelas were blaring, people was cheering. Mostly it was men, but a woman riding in the backseat of one SUV spotted me, pulled down her niqab to show a bright smile, flashed the victory sign, and then quickly replaced the veil. 
There did not seem to be any official fireworks, but occasionally someone would shoot a mortar into the sky above the street. The Sheraton projected "YES QATAR 2022" onto its front. Police were out in force: the regular police, motorcycle police, traffic police and the special police, who drive red SUVs and accompany motorcades (this might sound odd, but you seem to come across at least one a day here). They stood in the road to direct traffic, some annoyed with the revelry, some just annoyed that they were not able to be a part of it all. Several buses lumbered slowly through the mess, filled with workers or shoppers, none of whom seemed to be in a celebratory mood.
Once we made it to the proper Corniche walkway we found it more sparse than expected, but there were many clusters of women sitting quietly on the grass, watching the scene and keeping the children as the men rejoiced.
Many motorcycles began to join the flow, shooting between the lanes of slow traffic, doing outrageous burnouts, flaunting high-speed wheelies when able. Even children were seated on top of cars as they drove along. Some men full stood upon the roofs of cars that were driving swiftly. Those for whom honking was not sufficient revved their engines relentlessly, causing backfires and making me cringe. The air became heavy with the smell of oil and burning rubber as impressively opaque clouds from burnouts grew and floated in the light breeze.
Even now, at 2am on the weekly holy day for Muslims, the party seems to have hardly diminished down on the street.
Twelve years is a long time away, but I am excited to watch this amazing little place prepare, and I hope to return for the games-- to see how it all has changed, and honor the fact that I was here on the night when Doha was, unequivocally, the most excited city on the planet.