Kickoff tomorrow, Doha’s quiet streets buzz as world descends: ‘Never seen so many tourists’

The prelude to the World Cup has not been smooth. From FIFA’s allegedly corrupt voting process to allocate the world’s most watched sporting event to Qatar, to the treatment it meted out to the labourers who helped transform an endless stream of sand dunes to a dream football city, and its intolerance of LGBTQ rights — these have all been revisited and reviled repeatedly. But as the countdown in Central Doha ticks down to the inaugural match on Sunday, the seconds moving slower as the day approaches, the negativity and hostility towards the tournament has begun to shift.

The mood in Doha is purely football. Anywhere on the street, you can stumble on a fan who has come from as far as Ecuador, crossing the seven seas, to as near as Saudi Arabia, which shares a border with Qatar. Hop into a metro or a bus, your ears get used to a miasma of languages and slangs, and eyes to a variety of costumes and customs, but almost everyone, subconsciously, betrays their nationality.

A dozen Mexicans walking down a street in Al Wakra with their sombreros in tow — but the afternoon heat is too stifling for them to flaunt the most identifiable identity of the country. A group from Uruguay in their famous sky-blue jerseys. “For the match, we plan to paint ourselves in this colour,” one shouts. A few Ecuadorians pulling their luggage to the reception centre of a fans’ accommodation complex. When the security guard jokingly asks what is in the bag, one of them pulls out an Aztec warrior headgear.

There are hordes of Iranians – the proximity of the two countries and sizable expat population could mean that they could outnumber fans of most other countries – animatedly ripping apart their group stage opponents. “We need to beat Wales or England to progress, but America is the team we want to beat,” says Fatemeh, his hand in a sling after he fractured it playing football with his friends. His mother was reluctant to let him travel to Qatar, but he would not listen. He has not booked a ticket for the quarter-final, because he fears Iran would meet a stronger team in the round of 16.

As the World Cup draws closer, even the grumbling about the hassles in buying alcohol or the overpriced accommodation has quietly sunk in the excitement. Most of the residential complexes are quiet, guests still filling in, but Central Doha, the commercial and entertainment heartbeat of the country, has been pounding and dancing to diverse tunes and rhythms of the multitudes that have descended on the tiniest country to have hosted a World Cup.

The quiet and colourless streets of Doha are gathering voice and colour too. Metros and buses are fuller. The city’s residents are as amused as they are bemused. “Never seen this many tourists before in my lifetime,” says a policeman. They seem stuck in a fantasy world, an unreal show unfolding in front of their eyes.

The country with the fourth highest per capita income in the world rarely sneaks into the bucket-list of tourists. It’s not gifted with the natural beauty of Oman, nor is it a business metropolis like Dubai. It’s a wealthy country, home to millions of migrants, especially from South Asia, Central Asia and sub-Sahara, yet it never had a distinct identity, a powerful voice. Hosting a World Cup would give them that, a sense of soft power.

In a sense, the World Cup to Qatar is like the magic genie swirling from Aladdin’s Lamp, granting the grandest of wishes, transforming the country into a footballing wonderland, plunging the world into sleepless Arabian nights. And, like Aladdin’s genie, La’eeb is swirling around the country in his magic carpet.