The Crazy Ladies Say Goodbye
We were gathered at my place for coffee, so much laughing, so many topics. One friend stands up and I know, to my sorrow, it is time to say goodbye.
“If we go right now,” she says, “We can make it to the fabric souks before they close. Want to go?”
Her question is both a query and a challenge. That’s the kind of women my friends are. They push the limits.
“I can’t . . . ” I begin, thinking of the packing, the details that are still to be done before my departure, “Wait!” I finish, “Let me grab my purse,” and I run to the back to grab my handbag – and money. One more trip to the fabric souks? How could I say no? An opportunity for one more adventure with my friends? LLOOLLLL, bring it on!
I had shown them earlier a piece of fabric I could not resist, even though it was WAY overpriced:
When we first saw it, they wanted 6KD per meter, a price for cotton that would make any serious minded fabric connoisseur gasp. I didn’t buy it, but neither could I get it out of my head. I went back with another fabric-friend a few days later and bought a meter; this time the price was 5KD, and it is still shockingly expensive, but the store won’t come down and I will be leaving shortly. There was another piece, purple, with big Arabic or Persian letters, that I couldn’t get out of my mind. . .
The woman who I saw it with first said “why didn’t you buy it when you were with me? I wanted to buy it, too!”
“I didn’t dare!” I explained. “I knew you would think me foolish to pay that price!”
So off we went, back to the fabric souks, arriving just as many shops were closing. She bought a meter – at 4 KD/meter (oh ouch!) and I bought some embellished cotton for a summer dress, then she hustled me out of the store.
“But I thought we were meeting up with (our other friends) here!?” I resisted.
“I just talked with them! They told me to get the blonde out of the store so they could get a better price,” she explained. “We are going off to buy some thread and will meet up with them.”
I am NOT blonde.
“No, but you are the kind that makes the prices go up, you look European, we call you blonde,” she explained.
I am too amused to be insulted. LLOOLL, I am a blonde. I look too European. I love these ladies, they tell me exactly what they are thinking, and only a fool would take offense. We have such a good time together; I just need to remember to give them my money and let them buy for me.
I remember once, years ago, when I had a Thai friend in Damascus, and I lived in Amman. We would visit back and forth, and once, I gave her $100 and told her to buy me things with it.
“What should I buy?” she asked.
“Oh, some copper pots and pans, maybe some brocade, you’ll know what to buy, you have such a good eye,” I told her.
A month later, a huge carton arrived, HUGE. As I opened it, I pulled out enough beautiful Damascus-made items to start a store, each unique, gorgeous, and how on earth did $100 buy all this?
Same with my friends. They get the really good prices. As hard as I bargain, they have the advantage.
It was late in the day when I returned to the chalet, but oh, what a day, what fun, and what a great way to spend my last hours in Kuwait. 🙂
Thank you, my friends, for all the good times. 🙂
Happy Valentine’s Day, Kuwait
And here is a very rosy pink dawn for you on Valentine’s Day:
It is a glorious day out there, folks. Last night, we could even see stars in the sky as we sat outside with friends around a fire pit, sharing stories, sharing laughter, and a wonderful meal. It’s another great day in Kuwait. 🙂
Kuwait Dream Come True
So much has happened, and I’ve been so blessed. I’ve been able to meet up with friends, one on one and in groups, and when we sit and talk, it’s as if I had never left. We pick up right where we left off. With my friends, there is no need to make polite conversation; we talk about what is important in our hearts. I have been able to see every single friend, and I will see them again before I leave. That is one dream come true.
The second dream came true last night. I have told you AdventureMan is very, very busy. He is so busy that many times he doesn’t come home until very late at night; there are meetings all day, and into the night, when the offices in the US are open and functioning. Last night, however, he took a break. It was mere hours, but it was enough.’
He took me to Mubarakiyya, for dinner, and to see the lights. Happy Valentines Day to me! He knows exactly the way into my heart. 🙂
We took friends, people who had never been there before. We have to be careful; there are people who don’t ‘get’ Mubarakiyya, who prefer new and modern and sanitary. Not me. Give me that strong, hot tea with heaters on the table, and charcoal burners, and the din of children running around, and that grilled chicken and lamb and the shrimp (rubiyan) that Desert Girl told us about a long time ago in her blog. Our friends totally got it, and we all sat there, just soaking in the magic of Mubarakiyya.
We shopped a little, and took lots of photos of the lights. I have always felt so much joy at the joint Independence / Liberation holiday, at the celebration part, not the obnoxious-kids-with-foam-part, but I am convinced that most Kuwaitis celebrate with family and picnics and going to the beach or chalets, not the madness-on-the-Corniche.
AdventureMan is SO smart. He found a perfect parking place, across from the Sief Palace, where I could try to photograph the lights on the clock tower. My photos are not perfect; I didn’t have a tripod, but oh, I had so much fun, and I love the concept and execution.
My Kuwait friends – take your children downtown to see the lights. You can park in the parking lot and watch the lights change. The lights this year, all over downtown Kuwait, and en route there, are fabulous.
These patterns change like a kaleidoscope. It is most amazing. Go. Take your sweetheart, your valentine. Take your kids. This is fun, and free, and the weather is perfect.
Here is the parking lot where you can watch the show:
Update: Thank you, Danderma! I feel so foolish; I never saw that slideshow option, and think how many times I have been on the gallery page with all my photos, LLOOOLLL! You taught this old dog a new trick. 🙂
Sleepy Saturday Sunrise
(Yaaaaaaaaaawwwwnnnnnnnnnn)
Ummmm. . . . morning . . . . 🙂 . . . Kuwait . . .
It is cool this morning, clear skies, another glorious Saturday in Kuwait.
Good Morning Kuwait, Thursday, 10 February 2011
Another glorious day in Kuwait:
Night before last, on my way home, we saw the most amazing sight. Many of you never go downtown at night, and if you do not, you are missing something you may never see again in such splendor in your lifetime – the lights for the celebration of 50 / 20 / 5. You know me – I love the lights, but this year, there are so many!
The most amazing, unbelievably breathtaking, is the clock tower at the Amiri Palace just off the big roundabout by the Grand Mosque downtown. I don’t know how they do it, I have never seen this effect before, but they are imposing mosaic tile patterns on the clock tower, and the images are intricate – and sharp. It has to be some kind of laser light, it is SO sharp, so beautiful, and it changes like every 30 seconds. We drove around the circle three times, we were so taken with it. Take some time out of your busy life to give yourself a treat, absolutely for free, and take your family downtown to see these lights. They will take your breath away.
This next one is blurry, but that’s what you get when it is raining and you are driving trying to get a shot, any shot, LOL. I just want you to see an example of one of the many patterns which shift on the tower. It is awesome to behold:
My voice is still mostly gone, too much talking, too much laughing. I keep telling my friends God wants me to be quiet and listen, but I can’t resist participating, and we have so much to catch up on . . . Time is flying past, I grab at moments, but I hear the whooooosh as the hours fly by . . . I feel so blessed to have time again with these women who have meant so much to me. We never know where our conversations will take us. As we stood outside, making farewells, I had this huge impression of strength and power in our connections, of being surrounded by angels. Each woman is so modest and each gives so much to the community, thinking it is too little.
Just when I think I cannot fit one more thing in, I discover one of my sweet young blogging women is in town, and though years separate us, she is the kind of friend that once you get talking, you pick right up where you left off as if there has been no year or two in between, my favorite kind of friend. I want to know what she is thinking, our conversations are always so thought-provoking for me. We can’t figure out exactly when, yet, but we know it’s got to happen. It’s just an amazing coincidence that we are both in town at the same time.
Another Gorgeous Day in Kuwait
Oh my friends, I am having such a good time. I have been getting together with my friends, one on one, and we have talked so much – or maybe it is the particulate content of the Kuwait air – that I have lost my voice, LOL.
Last night, I slept the entire night. I was able to get up early and have breakfast with my poor hard-working AdventureMan before he rushed off to another day of high level decision-making and problem solving. Me? Another play day in the great land of Kuwait. 🙂
Here is what life looks like at seven in the morning:
It is another great day in Kuwait.
When I checked Weather Underground for the Kuwait weather forecast, I found an ad for Wataniya’s Give Kuwait.com where people are submitting their own videos to celebrate Kuwait’s upcoming celebration, a four day holiday, February 24 – 28, celebrating 50 years of Independence, 20 years since liberation and 5 years under the rule of the current Amir. There are some really fun videos, some with old photos (you know how I love the historical photos!)
Dinner at Kuwait Magic
Kuwait is changing almost by the minute. I am awed by some of the new buildings downtown, apparantly finished, with huge, gravity defying sweeping curves that mirror the Gulf waters. For dinner, we decided to go somewhere that stays pretty much the same – Kuwait Magic.
Even many expats who live here have never been to Kuwait Magic; we rarely see other westerners there. I also think maybe there is a ban on bachelors; it is a very very traditional family mall, not at all fancy, but with a really fun children’s play area, and a restaurant that has Adventureman’s favorite stuffed vegetables.
AdventureMan thinks that is stuffed zucchini. It doesn’t look like zucchini to me, although it may be a variety of zucchini. I think it might be an Indian squash called something like snake squash. Anyone out there can tell me for sure?
In the US, you can find mechanical rocket ships, mechanical cars, mechanical horses that you can ride. In Kuwait Magic, there is a camel! It is a very high camel; if I were a child, I would be terrified to be up so high.
Good Morning, Kuwait :-)
“Bring lots of warm clothes,” my Kuwaiti friend warned me, “it’s really cold!”
When I stepped off the plane, in mid-day, it was a little chill, but gorgeous, my very favorite kind of day in Kuwait. AdventureMan was there to meet me, although the plane arrived a full hour ahead of its scheduled arrival, and he took me downtown, while the Friday traffic was still light. A BEAUTIFUL day in Kuwait.
I even have the photos to prove it, but they are on my other camera, the one I didn’t bring the right card reader for, oh aaarrgh. I will find one soon.
It is so sweet to be back.
We took a long walk along the water, and hit the spa, where I had aqua therapy on all my travel-sore muscles, and I slept fairly well through the night.
Today, it is another beautiful day in Kuwait, a sweet Saturday morning.
Good morning, Kuwait. I’ve missed you. 🙂
What’s Really Hood: A Collection of Tales from the Streets by Wahida Clark, et al
Sometimes do you pick up a book and you don’t really know why you did? I saw this book in Target, and picked it up on an impulse. I read the cover and thought “you know, this is way out of my culture and out of my comfort zone” but then I thought hey – it’s a sub-culture in my own country, and like isn’t it hypocritical to be so interested in other cultures and then to ignore this sub-culture in my own country? Plus, I had a friend called Wahida, . . . well, it doesn’t have to make sense. It’s just the way it was.
I read the whole book. Some of what I read was frankly repellant. Some of the sex was so implausible that I can’t tell if my ideas are just way out of step with the changing times (and there are clues that this may be the problem) or that this sub-culture just has constant, earth-shaking sex.
The book contains five very different stories, but there are threads of similarity that appear in all five. Drugs are rampant, and destructive to individuals, couples, families, children, friendships, marriages, and the social context. Parenting skills are often fragile or non-existent. The male-female relationships are mostly exploitive.
And they all dream of a better life.
I think that’s what kept me reading. The stories are raw. You might not even like them at all, you might wish you had never heard of this book, but there is an honesty in the rawness, and a yearning to escape. The goal of all the easy money in the drug trade is mostly to GET OUT, to run away to some place safe, to live in a place where gunshots aren’t heard, and where kids can safely go to school.
I learned a lot from reading this book, but it was not an easy read. It is gritty, and characters you find yourself liking get killed off. It’s also stuck with me; I find myself thinking about things it brought to my attention. I’d love for you to read it too, and tell me what you think.
The Glass Rainbow by James Lee Burke
“Here’s the book,” Sparkle said, sliding into the restaurant seat as we all poured over the menu, wafts of garlic, white wine and butter drifting our way. “I’m getting kind of tired of Dave and Clete.”
“What, you mean not just bending the envelope but tearing right through it?” I asked “Or all the gratuitous violence?”
“Mostly the scorn for official procedures,” she started, two little lines between her eyes as she took in all the delicious possibilities, “How about some of that Montepulciano?”
She passed the book along to me. I was in the middle of another book, but oh, the temptation to drop it and get on with a new James Lee Burke.
The book opens with Dave Robicheaux, our recovering alcoholic detective, meeting up with a convict on a work crew whose sister has disappeared and who was found murdered. Bernadette Latiolais’s remains are thought to be the work of a serial killer working the area who targets prostitutes, but Bernadette was an honor student, graduating with a full scholarship promised to a Louisiana university. She was also an heiress, in a small way, to some property at the edge of a swamp. She doesn’t fit the profile, and her brother wants justice – not for himself, he’s doing his time, but for his sister, who never did anything to anyone, and who wanted to create a conservation area to preserve bears.
Right off the top, Robicheaux is outside of his parish, investigating a case nobody cares about in an area out of his jurisdiction.
OK, OK, my sister is right, this is pretty much another formulaic James Lee Burke. There are the corrupt rich families, the amoral women, the voiceless victims. Instead of the old Italian organized crime families, this time there are hired mercenaries, equally creative in killing, but way more efficient in cleaning up afterwards.
I’m just a sucker for James Lee Burke’s writing. Here’s one sample, from his interview with a very rich old man who goes a long way back with Robicheaux’s family:
“Don’t get old, Mr. Robicheaux. Age is an insatiable thief. It steals the pleasures of your youth, then locks you inside your own body with your desires still glowing. Worse, it makes you dependent upon people who are half a century younger than you. Dont’ let anyone tell you that it brings you peace, either, because that’s the biggest lie of all.”
Burke’s Dave Robicheaux and his private-investigator friend Clete are flawed men, prone to violence, but I cut them a lot of slack because in each novel they are bright shining avengers of all the wrongs done to the weak and helpless. They are Quixotic. They fight the rich and powerful for the rights of the common man. They know the risks they take, and they are too old to think they are going to survive every bad guy they go after. It’s a good thing the law of averages doesn’t hold true in novels; they should have been dead a long time ago.
What keeps me coming back are the lyrical descriptions of life along the Atchafalaya Bayou, community life in New Iberia, Louisiana, and Robicheaux’s family life, wife Molly, daughter Alifair (now grown to young womanhood) and Snuggs their cat and Tripod their raccoon, as well as the knowledge that at the end of the book, in spite of every evidence to the contrary, Dave and Clete will emerge alive, if damaged, and their indirect and violent path will have achieved some semblance of justice.
(I ordered the spaghetti with a white-wine mussel sauce, and Sparkle ordered the chicken marsala. Mom had seafood diablo.)
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