Pete’s Pigeon
“There’s an ongoing problem with the pigeons,” the former resident told my husband.
I remember the pigeons. We all have these two story entries, and the pigeons love them. The problem is, that they nest, and so when company comes, there might be pigeon droppings in your entry – aaarrgh.
I’ve always loved the sound of pigeons coo-ing, so it didn’t bother me so much. I pay the gardener a little extra and he makes sure the entry is cleaned every day. When guests are coming, I scrub any late additions myself.
LLLOOLL, I can see they have installed beds of nails to keep the pigeons from roosting.
Our resident pigeon has two perfect eggs; she pooped enough to build up a foundation above the nails, and now she roosts, safely, on the sharp nails. She takes turns with another pigeon, I am guessing the male, sitting on the eggs.
Sorry for the poor quality of these photos, but the windows are dirty, salt streaked, and I am shooting through a screen. Also, I don’t know which one is the daddy or mommy pigeon, or even if they are daddy and mommy or mommy and friend. I don’t know that much about pigeons, I just love the sound of their voices. I guess I should be appalled by the pigeon poop, but I feel lucky to have two pigeon eggs, and protective pigeon parents, it seems like a good omen to me.
It would be a health issue if any of the pigeon windows opened, but none of them do. When the eggs hatch, and the pigeons fly off, I will get the guys with the tall ladders to come clean the dropping off – again – and hope they will roost in another spot next nesting season.
Pete thinks this is the greatest show on earth. He has windows all over the house, and there is always something happening. The gardener is watering the lawn in back (well the dust in back, but we are going to have the trees cut back so the lawn and bougainvillea will grow once again), washing off the entry in front, the birds are flying in and out of the trees, the pigeon is roosting on her eggs, or flying off to find some bugs or whatever pigeons eat. He is losing his excess weight (I hope I am too!) running up and down the stairs. He is NOT bored! Anything but bored! He loves this place.
Day of Miracles
When I woke up yesterday, I didn’t even want to get out of bed. I was overwhelmed. There was so much to do, so many things I didn’t know how to do, where to start. But AdventureMan is up and out the door and I need to get started. I didn’t even unpack suitcases the night before – after we got Pete settled, AdventureMan took me grocery shopping.
Big mistake. What was the date? Yep, June FIRST. Also known as pay-day. The grocery store was mobbed, the parking lot was pure anarchy. I got out and started shopping, AdventureMan found a parking spot and then found me. About one third of the way through my list I just looked at him and said “I can’t do this. I am exhausted.”
By the grace of God, as we approached the check out lanes – there are about 30 – I saw one lane that was kind of invisible, no customers there, and we were checked out in a flash. AdventureMan had picked up a roasted chicken and some flat bread, so we went home, put away the cold stuff and I left all the rest for the next day. We were in bed by 9 and I think we were asleep 30 seconds later.
So here is what I faced – unpacking five suitcases, checking what was in the kitchen, figuring out where I wanted things to be, putting away last night’s groceries and re-arranging the furniture the way we liked it.
If you could see me work, you would laugh. I don’t work in a straight line. I would unpack a little, hang up some clothes, carry some things downstairs, check out a cupboard or two, rearrange, check the expiration dates on food left behind and throw out what was left behind.
I have lived in this very villa before, I know it well. The curtains are all screwed up, so as I go from room to room, I fix them the way they are supposed to be. It may sound irrelevant to you, but it matters to me!
Every now and then, overwhelmed, I would take a break and try to hook up the internet, or lie down for a few minutes with Pete, who still needed some cuddle-time to get him over his travel traumas. No luck with the internet.
Around two in the afternoon, I had all the suitcases unpacked and put away, the kitchen re-arranged, I had a great visit with my dear friend and neighbor – who is packing out, just as I move back in – and I was ready to collapse. I fixed myself a sandwich, and sat down.
The doorbell rang.
It is Ranjanthan, the maintenance man, and he has a fistfull of work orders placed by the company. Thank GOD I had been all over the house. “Yes” “Yes” “No” “Yes” “No” “No” (Yes, this needed fixing, no, the curtains are actually working, no, I don’t want this, yes, please fix this . . . )
One thing was to fix a dressing table, affix the mirror, but the dressing table had the wide-screen tv on it, and it was in the bedroom (horrors), and I wanted the TV in the upstairs family living room, etc. He did everything! He called in an assistant, and they moved all my furniture around to where I wanted it, they changed the TV, they hauled away an unsightly piece of furniture left behind, and a barbecue we didn’t want. He said he would send a man who could connect the additional cable box, maybe two – three days.
AdventureMan walked in just as the maintenance team were leaving, and his eyes popped out. When he had left me that morning, I had been straggling out of bed and I was afraid I might have an infection and need to go to the clinic. Poor AdventureMan, starting his new job, the house phone isn’t working, my cell phone isn’t working, and what if I am sick? He walks in, and our house is just the way we wanted it to be, all the projects are complete, and, in addition, I am not sick, I am just fine.
In another hour, the air conditioning men arrive and clean out all the filters and make sure everything is working. We were just about to leave for dinner, when the door bell rings, and it is the guy who is going to handle transferring the additional cable to the new TV location. He can’t do it until Friday, because it will be complicated, but . . . meanwhile, he gets our phone working, our internet working AND the VOIP phone – all working.
My friends, God is good. These workers – they are angels. How often do you get all these house-things settled in less than 24 hours on the ground? We were just totally blown away, our hearts so full of gratitude. Even our delayed arrival was a blessing in disguise, a protection for Pete.
After that, AdventureMan takes me to Biella’s. When we first got to Kuwait, I knew everything was going to be all right because there was a Biella’s at the Marina Mall. What a pity, it didn’t have enough inside space for the long hot months, and went away. Thank God, there is still a Biella’s in Doha, and we had a great meal, our first real relaxation.
Money in Qatar is just the opposite of money in Kuwait. In Kuwait, the Dinar is worth about 3.65 dollars, so you eat modest meal and your bill comes to like 8 – 11 KD, which sounds small, because we think in dollars, but it is $29 – $40. In Qatar, a dollar buys around 3.6 Qatari riyals, so when the bill arrives, it is 184 QR, which can be a sort of stunning number if you are thinking in dollars, but it is $51. (we had the fancy fruit cocktail drinks, starters, and panini. We don’t normally have the cocktails, so our bill was higher than normal, but the prices are actually pretty close between Kuwait and Qatar.) Sorry, no photos this time, just too tired! We had a nice, relaxing dinner, drove home and then – exhausted – were in bed before ten, sound asleep!
Safely in Doha
Yes, my friends, we are safely in Doha, with the normal out-of-touch sort of things that happen when you move. For some reason, and partly it’s because I am a technology dunce, unless things are clearly spelled out in the instruction booklets, I could never figure out how to include the plus sign in phone numbers, and without them, things don’t seem to be working. I still have my Kuwait phone, but I all my messages fail, and the only ones I am getting are from advertisers.
Just after I wrote the last entry, a team of FOUR customer service – or maybe three and some slightly more elevated personages – a guy in a suit with a radio – came to get me in the lounge; they were taking me to see my cat. The lounge – God bless them abundantly – came up with a plate of salmon for Pete, and with my escort, we went down to immigration.
This is the really funny part – and it’s all technicalities, but my residence visa has been cancelled, and I have been stamped out of the country, so I cannot go to Lost and Found where Pete is being held pending our flight, the immigration police are very clear about that, but since he is just baggage, they can send someone to bring Pete to me.
Surrounded by my escort, and now also by four or five immigration policemen, they bring Pete to me, and I get to give him a little scratch under the chin and collar, he gets to hear my voice. He is not terrified, but he is healthily intimidated by all the unknown persons and noises – and he is alert, so alert. He is not hungry. His pupils are dilated. I only keep him for about three minutes when I send him back; I am holding up about ten people at this point, all of whom dropped their duties so that I could comfort my cat.
When it came time for my flight, I asked the lounge to call Lost and Found and find out when the cat would be loaded, and the answer was – he was just being loaded now. I checked again at the gate, and they were prepared. Everyone apologized profusely, and explained that the pilot on the first flight just could not take a chance; the ventilation in the pressurized cargo compartment was not working and he didn’t want to put Pete at any risk. God bless him. I don’t mind the inconvenience; I honor his carefulness. Sometimes what appears to be an inconvenience is really a protection; the blessing I had this time was to know and understand that this, truly, was a blessing.
But I also needed to tell you about it, or you might have the wrong impression. It was not an airplane annoyance. It was a conscientious pilot. Thanks be to God.
Pete was carted separately to and from the plane, and hand carried to me in arrivals. LOL, I had no other baggage, just Pete! I got through the screening quickly, AdventureMan had schmoozed his way into arrivals and was there with the importation paperwork, and we were out of the airport in a flash, and in our villa a mere ten minutes later.
Another LOL, by the way, at all of you who like the name Qatteri Cat better than Pete! Honestly, one reason I don’t unveil is that as long as I am Intlxpatr, married to AdventureMan, I am so much more interesting than the very ordinary person that I really am!
Pete will always be the Qatteri Cat, because he was found, as a small, tiny, hungry kitten, wandering on the Doha Corniche by a family who had to give him up when he was around 5 months. I loved him the minute I saw him, but he only had eyes for AdventureMan. And poor AdventureMan, he was so worried about Pete he was in a nervous tizz when we arrived, he had been so afraid something would go wrong.
Seeing the two of them reunite in Doha was a beautiful sight. Pete’s food and cat litter were all set up, and he has a whole new environment to explore.
Even When You Do Everything “Right” . . .
The most amazing things can happen.
“Just bad joss” says my inner Chinese guru, as I sit for another seven hours in the lounge, waiting for a flight on which I am assured, my cat will also fly.
“Woooo HOOO!” we whopped and hollered and danced around our house with Qatteri Cat when we were told that YES, the flight we had booked had a compressurized baggage compartment, necessary for transporting a cat.
QC was a great sport this morning when I wouldn’t give him any fresh water or food – it’s just a short flight to Doha; he can survive without food and water for this short time. He wasn’t such a great sport about going into his cat cage – that usually means going to the vet, and he struggles and moans loudly, so loudly we were afraid he was going to wake the neighbors.
He quiets down on the drive to the airport. He can hear AdventureMan and I talking quietly, and he is calm. He is calm as we go through the long check in process. We like to travel light; this time we are burdened with bags and bags – one bag just for QC’s food, bowls, blanket, cat litter and babies. AdventureMan has to pay excess baggage, and, of course, cat passage.
From the Gate, I can see him carefully loaded on the plane. AdventureMan and I take our seats, the plane fills, we are beginning to breathe easy . . .
And then . . .
Everything changes.
The customer service rep is in front of us; the gates are closing, Qatteri Cat is being offloaded because the compartment is NOT pressurized – or something. The story shifts. AdventureMan talks with the CSR, he talks with the captain – in Arabic – and nothing works. They say they will fly QC to us on the later flight.
QC has had nothing to eat or drink. Now, he has to remain confined in his cage for seven more hours, no food, no water, on the chance he will make it on the plane later in the day. No. I tell AdventureMan “You go ahead, I will stay here with QC to make sure he gets on the later flight.” AdventureMan likes that idea. He will get the cat litter set up and meet us at the plane.
No, they will not allow the Qatteri Cat in the lounge with me, no matter how nice I am, no matter how concerned I am, even when I get a little angry, no, he has to wait in Lost and Found. That just breaks my heart.
They are being as nice and helpful as they can be – considering they screwed up, right up to the last minute we thought everything was OK and it wasn’t. We don’t even know what the real reason is, but meanwhile, I am sitting here steamed in the lounge – no, the A/C is working overtime, I am just royally annoyed that we did so much forward planning, and all for naught, AAARRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!
I feel so sorry for the Qatteri Cat (whose real name is Pete, by the way.)
This is the same airlines – a really good airline – that lost my bag for three days last year when I flew to Doha, during a time when I had a whole weekend full of social things, and I had to wear my same clothes to all the things – I didn’t even have time to go to the stores and buy anything, I just had to buy what I could in the hotel gift shop.
It makes me wonder if I just have bad karma on this airline? I don’t want to complain too much, because what if it were a protection? What if some other airline might have transported Pete without thinking about pressurization and what if he had been badly hurt, or died or something? There’s a part of me that knows this might have been a good thing, it’s just hard to see it now. It’s hard to see clearly when you are feeling angry.
One good thing in all this is that AdventureMan gets to handle all those bags and get the cat litter set up and cat food out and then come pick up the Pete and me when we arrive.
There he goes:
Bye, AdventureMan. See you in Doha, Insh’allah . . .
Hotel Souq Waqif Summer Promotion! (Doha, Qatar)
This is a lovely boutique hotel with a view in the heart of the new and lively Souq Waqif, where the nightlife in Doha is happening! It has its own good restaurant, and is surrounded by more.
Kuwait Paper Dump Badge
I admit it. When I saw Ansam on her new blog had a Kuwait Paper Dump certificate, I was green with envy! I knew I didn’t deserve one – I have only contributed once, and even my contribution wasn’t truly acceptable because I don’t have a fax, so I took photos and sent them to Abaid.
Yesterday, when I opened my e-mail, I almost cried. He sent me a badge for my support and positive mentions. Honestly, it is the best badge I have ever sported on Here, There and Everywhere.
I’m from Seattle, remember, where recycle cans are issued, and sorting and recycling is mandatory. I’m also from the hippie generation, the back-to-the-earth movement that springs up every now and then, you know, make your own paper, make your own soap, grow your own tomatoes and basil. That my son, his wife, my sisters and my nieces and nephews and this new generation of Kuwaitis are all into saving the environment – it is just icing on my cake. And the candle on my cake is the new badge. You can see it here, and you can see it for the rest of the life of the blog under Kuwait Paper Dump in the Blogroll.
For those of you not familiar with the website, 3baid gathers up paper from around Kuwait from restaurants, service providers, Kuwait resources, events, etc. and publishes them all in one place, eliminating our need to keep track of all those papers. When you want to know what the possibilities are from a particular restaurant, you will find the menu there. When you want to know who has mushroom pizzas, you can click on “mushroom pizzas” and find out which places have them. It is an amazing public service they provide at Paper Dump, and they do it entirely as volunteers, serving the community.
I am so totally honored. Thank you for the badge. Thank you, too, for your quiet, persistent leadership in the Kuwait environmental/Green movement.
Windy Kuwait Sunrise
The wind is blowing; if we were in Alaska, I would think it is a huge snowstorm outside from the whistling around my windows, and the curtains blowing, even though the windows are closed and “sealed.” (Yeh, right.) Last night, I could feel it coming – I don’t have asthma, but I can feel a dust storm coming in my lungs. AdventureMan was using his puffer frequently, not a good thing.
Out on the balcony, early early in the morning, we can not see the Kuwait skyline; it is obscured by dust. The wind has totally transformed the surface of the sea; it is pushing waves which are crashing against the shore. Well, small waves. The sea has been flat and glassy for weeks; this is a significant difference.
The sun is coming up before five in the morning. I had a restless night, and couldn’t sleep any later:
Have a great day, Kuwait.
Kuwait Miscellaneous and Photo Dump
“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes–and ships–and sealing-wax–
Of cabbages–and kings–
(From Lewis Carrol’s Jabberwocky)
I was in a hurry to fix breakfast, which was two lovely eggs in a little fresh Kuwait butter, but I was too hungry and grabbed a handful of walnuts from a nearby jar to chew on while breakfast cooked.
“hmmmm. . . ” I thought “these walnuts taste like Japanese rice crackers. . . ” but I knew my very favorite smoked almonds were all gone and . . . and . . . it dawned on me in horror, and I ran to the sink and spit out the “almonds.”
Not paying attention, I had grabbed the wrong jar, and had a mouth full of CAT FOOD!
“How did it taste?” my good friend asked, when I told her about it, in disgust.
“Fishy.” I said. “Actually, probably not that bad, except that it was CAT FOOD.” I couldn’t get past the cat-foodness of it to really judge how it tasted.
This will probably be my last Kuwait mosque photo. We shot it in Maidan Hawally, and the light was fading so quickly, I just took the photo, knowing the background was totally awful. The mosque – aha – thanks to my readers, I know it is Shiite, because it has a green dome! See! I was listening! But what graceful decoration on the minarets. What a delight!
You can have your power yachts, all sleek and white and sleeping a hundred – I will take this dream boat any day. I love the wood, and the lines. Whoever owns it taunts me by parking outside my window and fishing. I would love to be fishing off this boat.
A rare, clear summer morn in Kuwait when I can see the shimmer of the sun off the buildings in Salmiyya . . .
Reviving the Parking Hall of Shame, Al Manshar Mall only has like 40 parking spots for the whole mall and this nincompoop (pardon my language) takes up two spots with his careless parking. AAARRRGGGHH!
The Qatteri Cat hates it when AdventureMan gets out his suitcase. He sent a very clear message – “Take me, and Baby, too!”
Down to the Sea in Ships
Even though I grew up in the capitol city, Juneau was a very small town, really a village, and fishing played a major role in people’s lives. Everyone had a locker, where fish caught during the summer and meat from hunting season was frozen and stored for the long Alaska winter. It’s probably one reason why I have loved both Kuwait and Qatar so much – while few – if any – Kuwaitis or Qatteris – need to fish for a living, there is still a love and respect for fishing and water sports that is probably hard wired into their souls.
Being in a boat on a sea makes believers of us all. The sea and the desert have this in common – when you go out beyond the sight of civilization, you realize, no matter how big your boat / ship is – you are very very small. You realize how powerless you are. One rogue wave, one unexpected sand storm can do you in.
These are verses taken from Psalm 107, part of today’s reading in the Lectionary that make me think of Kuwait.
23 Some went down to the sea in ships,
doing business on the mighty waters;
24 they saw the deeds of the Lord,
his wondrous works in the deep.
25 For he commanded and raised the stormy wind,
which lifted up the waves of the sea.
26 They mounted up to heaven, they went down to the depths;
their courage melted away in their calamity;
27 they reeled and staggered like drunkards,
and were at their wits’ end.
28 Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
and he brought them out from their distress;
29 he made the storm be still,
and the waves of the sea were hushed.
30 Then they were glad because they had quiet,
and he brought them to their desired haven.
31 Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love,
for his wonderful works to humankind.
32 Let them extol him in the congregation of the people,
and praise him in the assembly of the elders.
Busted
Today, as I was getting ready to leave the church services, one of my very special friends hugged me and said farewell, and then said “But of course, I can keep up with you on your blog.”
It was as if time stopped for a second, then started up again.
“My blog? You read my blog? You know?” I stammered, not loudly because there were other people around.
She laughed.
“I figured it out when you described this guy,” she said, punching AdventureMan lightly on the shoulder. “I KNEW it was you.”
When we got into the car, AdventureMan had a big smug grin on his face.
“I almost told her I read your blog quickly first, to see if I’m in it,” he said, “but then I was embarrassed that I am so vain.”
LLLOOOLLLL!
I’ve gotten less careful. It’s becoming less and less relevant as I get closer to leaving.
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