Alhamdallah for the Trip from Hell
Remember what my husband says? A good flight is where the number of landings equals the number of take-offs? Alhamdallah, I am safely arrived back in Kuwait and the safe landings equalled the take-offs.
Having said that, this trip back to Kuwait was not a trip I want to do again any time soon. It’s all small stuff. Small stuff adds up. (Sigh.) It gets old.
There’s a direct flight from Seattle to Amsterdam. Because I booked so late, I couldn’t get on it. I kept trying, KLM kept laughing and saying “it is BOOKED!” I made use of that “weather window” to drive to the airport a little early, hoping a seat might open up, someone might now show up. No such luch. Even as the flight boarded, I asked if there was any possibility of getting on and they just laughed.
No big deal. My flight to Minneapolis was just a little later, and it was uneventful, except for leaving late enough that I had to RUN from one end of the Minneapolis airport to the other to reach the gate for my Amsterdam flight, and it was a long long way! Most people were already on board, but I had an aisle seat and I was just happy to make the flight. This flight, too, was fully booked. I didn’t see a single empty seat.
And that was not good news. I was tired, so quickly fell asleep, only to awake to the sound of a flight attendant using her loud voice to say “Sir! Sir! Can you hear me? Can you hear me? If you can hear me, you need to respond!” and when the man sitting behind me didn’t respond she was about to call for medical assistance. At that moment, he vomited copiously all over himself and all over his seat. Pretty awful, awful for him, awful for everyone sitting around him. Ummm, remember when I told you there were no empty seats?
They did their best to clean things up. Oh well. Safe landing.
Boarded the flight to Kuwait in Amsterdam, uneventful, smooth . . . “hmmmmm, haven’t we been sitting here a while? We were supposed to take off half an hour ago . . .?” The pilot comes on and says the plane has been loaded with contaminated fuel and they are trying to figure out what they are going to do. Three hours after we boarded we are deplaned, given vouchers for dinner and a phone call and 50 Euro coupon toward our next flight. We are told to be back at 9 to reboard.
So I go once again for the upgrade – I really need more space to sleep, and I really need some sleep. I tried to use that fancy-schmancy 50 Euro coupon but the ticketing office said it is only good for booking a totally NEW ticket. Ah well, I paid 100 Euro to upgrade, worth EVERY centime. I was asleep even before the plane taxied down the runway for takeoff. My sweet husband was there to meet me at the ungodly hour we landed in Kuwait. The air was cool and fresh and smelled clean.
OK, OK, nothing major, just a lot of small annoyances. The number of safe landings equalled the number of takeoffs. Alhamdallah.
Farewell Old Year
I’m ready for a new year. I’ve read your blogs, I can see that most of you are ready too, we are all ready for a new start, new hope, a better tomorrow.
2006 was a full year for us – a move to Kuwait, our son’s wedding to a wonderful young woman, and several trips back to take care of family business. My husband and I looked at each other and laughed – this year we haemmoraged money. We thank God we had the money we needed when we needed it, but the sheer volume of it, going out, stuns us. We hope this will be a better year, a more stable year, as we squirrel around, hiding our nuts for the winter of old age.
By the grace of God, my Mom is doing well, and thank all of you who have expressed concerns for her. She is grieving, she misses him so much, but none of us would choose for him to suffer one more minute on this earth when he could be in a better place. She spends her time right now surrounded by family and friends. We know she is going to have some bad moments, but she is amazingly resilient, and we see all sorts of signs that she will do well, once the grief abates.
Here is a photo of the photo I told you about earlier in the blog – Dad holding me up so I almost look like I am sitting on the mountain. Those old black and white photos were SO crisp; they enlarged without any serious loss of resolution.
I tell my friends this set the pace for my life of thrill seeking behavior . . .(just kidding, folks)
I wish you all a great day, tieing up loose ends, and a wonderful new year.
Dining Out: Souk Mubarakia
This is for Skunk – he recommended the outside restaurant at Souk Mubarakia, which also happens to be one of our favorite places to go.
Does anyone know of a restaurant around here with an old Kuwait theme – like where they have private small rooms where you sit on the floor, like a small majlis?
Kuwaiti Drugged, Robbed in Thailand
Today in the Kuwait Times:
“Thailand/Kuwait. A Kuwaiti claims he was drugged and robbed at a hotel in Thailand. The 45 year old man stumbled from his room at the Marine Palace Hotel in South Patayya, Thailand yesterday morning, telling the reception staff that two women had stolen 10,000 Baht (around KD 82) in cash, a digital camera and a mobile phone.
The women had earlier entered the hotel, telling reception that they were going to the room occupied by the victim. They allowed the reception staff to take photocopies of their civil ID’s, reported local press yesterday. Arrest warrents for both the women, a 20 year old from Bangkok and a 21 year old from Nhakon Sawan Province were issued.”
Comment: I would love to know the rest of THIS story.
Liberation Tower at Night and Qatteri Cat
We love going to Souk Mubarakia. Took this recently on a cool, clear night from the souks
The Qatteri Cat has not lost interest in the tree, but no longer seems interested in pulling it over. The blanket is Masai, from Tanzania. Great Christmas colors!
Qatteri Cat in the Dog House
Last night, Qatteri Cat had what we call the cat-crazies. I think he misses my husband, who chases him around, throws his ball, tosses him on his back and rubs his tummy. We hang out together, but I’m not so much FUN as Adventure Man.
So last night, just minutes after I had turned out my light, I heard a great !!!CRASH!!! I knew what it was, as I could hear crunchings, tinglings and things falling even as I “rushed to the scene” (and a tip of the hat to the Kuwait Times who use that phrase endlessly).
Here is what it looked like before:
It was late at night. I couldn’t deal with it. I found a large sheet and covered the mess and went back to bed. Qatteri Cat was too embarrassed, he hid until he thought I was asleep, and then came in – he was cold – to sleep snuggled up next to me.
This morning, I faced this:
The cross at the top of the tree is broken, but I think me and Mr. Elmer can fix it:
Of course, any of you who have cats and understand their little pea-sized brains, will know that this morning the Qatteri Cat is totally mystified as to how this carnage happened.
That’s him, skulking back behind the newly upraised tree, still a little embarrassed and hoping I don’t remember he did it.
Adventure Man and the Space Shuttle
The phone rang this morning at 4:30 a.m. That’s never a good thing.
My husband’s voice came over the line. “I’m here in Florida. I’ve been in a terrible accident. I’m OK, but I’m standing by the side of the road freezing my a$$ off waiting for the police to get here. And the woman who hit me is really really mad at me.”
It’s OK. I’m wide awake. The first “ting” of the phone sends a shot of adrenalin running through me that never fails to give me instant focus.
“You’re sure you’re OK?” I ask.
“Yeh, I just need to hear your voice. There are all these people waiting for the space shuttle to take off, and I knew they weren’t paying attention to their driving. There are people parked all along the sides of the road, people pulling in, people pulling out and looking for a better place to park . . . .”
“Oh. . .the space shuttle. I forgot about that.”
“Yeh, there’s a huge crowd here. There hasn’t been a night take-off for a long time. So I could see traffic slowing down in front of me, I slowed down, and this woman just plows into my rear end. You should see the rental car! What am I going to do? . . .oh, the police are coming. Will you look up our insurance policy and claims number and I’ll call you back.”
I get the information, put it by the phone and go back to sleep. It’s cold here, too, but I have a very warm cat snoozing away next to me, so I drift off again.
The phone rings again at 6 and I give him the information he needs. He is still a little shaken, but the police have been very good to him, and are going to give him a ride to a hotel where he can spend the night, contact the car rental people and calm down.
“The woman who hit me is really really angry,” he says in a hushed voice, because she is still near. “The police cited her for hitting me, and she says it’s my fault for slowing down!” We both get a good chuckle out of that – in the US, under pretty much any circumstance you can think of, the person who hits another car from behind is always, ALWAYS wrong. You’re supposed to be paying attention.
“Oh – and while the police were taking the information and clearing the accident (both cars had to be towed) the shuttle took off!”
“Have you ever seen that before?” I asked
“No! And I didn’t care to this time, either. But there it was, in the middle of all this accident chaos, and everything stopped. It was pretty spectacular.”
The police told him the nearest hotel was a roach-infested druggie hangout and took him down the highway, with his three pieces of luggage, to a nicer Holiday Inn. At the Holiday Inn, the desk clerk took pity on him and gave him a very nice room and an accident victim discount. The car rental people brought him a brand new great big car with leather seats in the middle of the night and apologized that this had happened to him in Florida. He is still a little shaken – the woman really hit him hard – but all in all, things went pretty well. He is on his way to his cousin’s house this morning, and a good, hopefully uneventful, visit.
And he got to watch the shuttle take-off. We once lived in Florida. People would travel from all over the world to come watch a shuttle take-off, and it was always iffy. Shuttle take-offs get postponed all the time, weather, mechanical malfunctions . . . sometimes the delay is short, sometimes a week or more.
So I just have to laugh at his luck. He doesn’t even care about the shuttle launch, all he wanted to do was to get to his cousin’s house, and the shuttle launches when he is in the perfect position to view it.
Photo courtesy of http://www.astronautscholarship.org
Santa’s Wish List: Cookbooks
You might think I love to cook. You would be very wrong.
I had a great friend for many years, one of those Southern gals with a last name first name, and when one day I told her of my secret guilt – that cooking wasn’t FUN for me, she said “what we do, every day, is SURVIVAL cooking. We just meet the expectation of getting a meal on the table. That doesn’t have to be fun, it just has to be done.”
That’s pretty much what I do, and why I have been giving you all these great recipes. The truth about the recipes I am giving you is that most of them are EASY and they taste good. A few require special equipment and mastering a new skill, but it’s like swimming – once you’ve done it, it’s easy. There is nothing complicated about the recipes I am sharing with you – they are ones I use, too!
Books About Food and Eating
First I will share with you two books available through third party vendors at Amazon. The first is Food Lover’s Companion (A Comprehensive Definition of Over 4000 Food, Wine and Culinary Terms) by Sharon Tyler Herbst, which is available starting at $14.93, and the second is M.F.K Fisher’s The Art of Eating, also available through Amazon at $11.53. The Companion is invaluable when someone uses a term for a cooking technique or ingredient you don’t know; it has words for everything! My husband reads this book sometimes just for fun and is always sharing new information he has learned. The MFK Fisher book is just plain fun reading about food, full of information and anecdotes and stories, written in an enormously readable way.
Beginner Cookbooks
The first cookbook I used was the McCalls Cookbook – no longer in print. It had photos of how do do the things I found so intimidating, and that is where I got my earliers Christmas cookie recipes – the Russian Tea Cakes and the Candy Cane Cookies. The second was The Joy of Cooking, which I mentioned in an earlier blog entry. What is good about these books is that they keep it really simple. In Joy, they give you a long theoretical section, which you can read if you have the time, and which helps, but at the beginning it isn’t always easy to even understand the basics. That takes time. Then you can go back and read later and go “Aha! Now I understand!”
Cookbook Secrets
Actually, I love reading cookbooks. I have a huge collection. And almost all of them are Junior League Cookbooks. So here’s the secret – when you are looking for cookbooks, look for ones where women who contribute have to put their names. If their name is on the recipe, you can trust that the recipe will work, and that it will be one of their best recipes – they don’t want to be embarrassed!
The majority my cookbooks are from the South. And narrowing it down even further, most of my favorites come from Louisiana or Georgia.
The first one I ever bought was Talk About Good! And oh, it WAS good!
These recipes use ingredients like real cream and real butter and lots of salt. Southern people have some of the lowest life-expectancy rates in the United States – I suspect their eating habits have a lot to do with it. But if it isn’t a habit to eat so richly, every now and then it just tastes SO GOOD to use these ingredients. You will also notice that it has what they call a “plastic comb” binding. That means when you open it up to follow a recipe, it will lie flat. That’s a really good thing!
My second favorite is Quail Country, by the Junior League of Albany, Georgia. You would really have to scour the book stores to find this out-of-print classic, because so few people would ever want to part with it. Another gem is The Fort Leavenworth Collection, if you can get your hands on it – again, yard sales, used book stores would be your best bet.
There is a wonderful group of stores in the USA called Half Price Books. If books are not being bought as gifts, if you plan to just read a book and pass it along, or if you like to have a few on hand to pass along because you think they are so great, Half Price Books is a great place. They have the most obscure books, books you never thought you would see again. Many of their books are new, but remaindered (left over from book stores that couldn’t sell the, or from publishers who published too many copies) so they are sold at half price. They will also buy used books from you, but to me, they offer so little that I would just as soon give them away. (No, I don’t own stock in Half Price Books.)
There are some other fabulous Junior League cookbooks – the California Heritage Cookbook, the Seattle Classics, and there are other cookbooks produced by churches and charities that also have “real people” recipes that are drop-dead good. I remember once sharing a recipe for Chocolate Cheesecake from Seattle Classics. My friend told me she made it for Christmas dinner, but everyone was too full to eat dessert. But she said all night she heard doors opening and closing, as people snuck down to the kitchen to slice a little of the cheesecake and eat it, and in the morning, only a fragment was left!
Seeking out the best cookbooks can make every vacation an adventure. I have cookbooks from Kenya and Tunisia, Qatar, Jordan and Saudi Arabia . . . all full of great recipes, recipes with names attatched. I wish you a grand adventure seeking out cookbooks that will thrill your heart. Happy Hunting!
Evening out: Learning to be Flexible
A post from Little Diamond on having passport photos taken in Lebanon reminds me of how differently we live in our foreign adventures. She tells how patiently the photographer dealt with her, encouraging her to comb her hair, and finally, after showing the first photos, convinced her to clean up her act for a second, more glamorous, round.
I read a book Almost French by Sarah Turnbull, in which she describes her arrival in Paris, dressed in typical Outback Australian style, and her adventures learning that in Paris, you don’t even leave the apartment in sweatpants to run to the baker because “it might hurt his eyes.”
I remember returning home from life in Germany and thinking “the women here are so COMFORTABLE in their own skin. They wear jeans, even into their 80’s, they go hiking, they go without makeup, and they look happy!” and I wanted that for myself. In my neck of the woods, too much make-up is a big no-no. And too much is anything beyond mascara.
Identity photos in the USA are simply expected to be awful, so no one thinks too much about it, and we all just avoid showing our ID’s if we can help it (maybe that’s why we drive so lawfully, so that we don’t have to show our dismal drivers’ licenses?)
So when I had to have my first residence card done in Saudi Arabia, I didn’t go to a lot of effort. I cleaned up, combed my hair, put on my abaya and scarf around the neck, and went to the local photo guy and got the photo taken. It happened to fall on the day of a significant birthday, you know, one of those with a zero in it. Later that day, when we picked up the photos from the beaming photographer, I looked, and I mentally gasped. The photo looked fabulous.
What to do? I know the law says photos are to be unretouched, but this photo is clearly a little doctored. As any woman would, I decided to just go with the local customs. I even bought a few more enlarged versions to sent to my family. I still grin when I look at that photo. Yes, I even framed one for myself.
Here in Kuwait, I have had to had these photos taken several times, I don’t know why, for several different cards, and then the cards take time and someone loses the photos and I have to have them taken again. There is a very nice man, he takes them and I can get them almost instantly from him. I even got to pick out the one I wanted, and then, he started airbrushing.
“What are you doing??” I exclaimed, as he brushed broad strokes across my face.
“Oh Madam, I am just evening out your makeup a little bit,” he said, as freckles, crow’s feet, shadows, and any blemish totally disappeared. I wasn’t wearing any makeup, only mascara.
Hypocrite and vain as I am, I just rolled with it. It’s another culture, and I know, because I asked, that everyone gets the same treatment, the re-touch, so all the ID photos look pretty good. Mine would draw attention if it weren’t retouched, I tell myself.
Rain, Dear
My husband called me this morning from Germany and said “I am so glad we don’t live here anymore, it is all dark and grey and rainy today.”
I laughed and said “That’s the exact weather we are having in Kuwait.”
I have only recently started driving, really driving, the way I used to drive around Qatar. (One time my husband took a day off to take a trip around Qatar. We left early in the morning. We were back in time for lunch.) I was fearless, at least during daylight hours. Traffic was heavy, but much calmer, much tamer than in Kuwait.
When I first got here, I thought I would never drive. Then, little by little, I would drive here, drive there, mostly for groceries or meetings, then, little by little, more. Now, I am actually pretty good, or at least getting pretty good.
Or so I thought until today. I had to drive home in the rain. I am confident and also cautious as a driver. I was surrounded by two kinds of drivers – nervous and UNconfident drivers, and drivers who were totally oblivious to the dangers of a newly slick wet highway and driving their normal fast, weav-y way. That makes for a hair-raising ride, especially when you are caught between the nervous brak-ers and the cavalierly speeding weavers.
Did I mention school had just gotten out, so many of the cars were Mums with children, and the others were young bloods who had been trapped in the classroom and were eager to break loose? Deadly combination.
Made it home, mentally designing a medal. Soldiers get medals just for participating in a campaign and living to tell about it. I think the Kuwait freeways and ring roads should be combat-medal qualified. Maybe black, with a yellow stripe down the middle . . .and you get stars for acts of extraordinary bravery?
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