Amazon
For my fellow book lovers – this is what the Amazon.com headquarters looks like. A long time ago, it was a veteran’s hospital, then it was de-militarized and Amazon bought it. They have a lot of other locations and warehouses, but this is the central Amazon, overlooking Seattle and I-5.
No lives were endangered in the taking of this photo – it’s Labor Day weekend, and the traffic was stopped on the highway, inching north, as I took the photo.
Guerilla Art at the Gas Works
Yesterday Mom pulled out a clipping from the Seattle Times about an unknown sculptor who had left a collection of fascinating sculptures – papier mache’ with golden highlights – of people emerging from their shells. They were delivered by stealth to the park by by the artist and friends, and left displayed to the wonderment of runners, joggers, walkers and picnicking families who discovered them at the Gasworks Park.
“Guerrilla-art in Seattle
In what was advertised as a gift to the citizens of Seattle, a gold-colored sculpture by an unknown artist turned up in Gas Works Park on Tuesday, August 25, 2009. “Anew is gifted to the citizens of Seattle in the spirit of awakening,” the artist wrote in a plaque attached to the sculpture.”
(This is not my photo; this photo is from the Seattle Times Photo Gallery and you can purchase a copy of it from them)
How cool is that? The park officials were all set to pick the art works up and dispose of them, but people started calling in, by the hundreds, “no! leave it there! It is wonderful!” And, amazement of amazements, the city listened, and left the sculptures there.
In today’s Seattle Times is a follow up:
Guerrilla artist goes public; golden man already taken
By Susan Gilmore
Seattle Times staff reporter (you can read the entire article by clicking on the blue type)
The artist who left a sculpture in Seattle’s Gas Works Park earlier this week says she was “amazed and overwhelmed” by the response to the art.
“I spent some time both in the afternoon and evening standing with the crowd, watching their reactions, and I am overflowing with joy,” said Cyra Hobson, 31, in an e-mail sent Wednesday night.
The Seattle Parks Department said Wednesday it will leave the multipiece sculpture in place until Labor Day rather than removing it today, as had been planned.
So Mom and I decided we wanted to take a look, which is a lot braver than you can imagine. Mom has always been active, but she is no longer able to walk as long as she wants to walk – at 86, she hates to accept any limitations, so off we go.
We get to the Gas Works Park and it is another gorgeous day, warm, without being hot, and we walk. And we walk. And we don’t see one single piece of sculpture. People have taken her at her word – they are all gone!
Oh well. We missed an ephemeral moment in time, a great happening, but we still had a great adventure. The view from the Gas Works park (which is – no kidding – on the site of a defunct Gas Works factory, so they turned it into a park for families, joggers, dog walkers, etc.) is phenomenal – at one time, there was a jet, a helicopter and a pontoon plane in the air, a car/boat, several kayaks and a fishing boat in the water, and dogs and children everywhere.
Of course I took some photos to share with you:
This is a “Duck.” Right now it is a boat, but it can also put down wheels and function as an open tour bus on land:
Irrelevant Clothing, Shoes and Scissors
It doesn’t matter how long I have been living in the Middle East, it doesn’t matter how many times I have made the trip back and forth, I never seem to get it quite right.
I knew it was going to be less hot in Seattle. I knew it. And still, I didn’t pack a single pair of closed toe shoes, a single pair of nylon stockings, and only a couple long sleeved things. It doesn’t matter that I have lived in Seattle, that I know Seattle, when I am in the middle of the heat and humidity of August in Doha, I lack the imagination to think clearly about the coolness of August in Seattle. I have a lot of lightweight cotton dresses . . . hmmm, so irrelevant in Seattle.
I keep a storage locker here. It started when we moved our parents from their big house to a 2 BR condo (with a water view 🙂 ) and Mom had separated out some of her treasures to divide among us movers. The problem was, I didn’t really want to take them with me (bulky and I would have to bring them back) and I have already imposed on the sister who lives here with a bunch of my stuff, so I finally decided to rent a storage locker. I discovered as a landlord, it actually comes off my taxes. I still have to pay for it, but it isn’t a total loss. I keep Seattle supplies in the locker, too.
When I went to the locker yesterday to pick up some more long sleeved stuff, and my Seattle hairdryer, and my Seattle make-up and living supplies (dishwashing soap, coffee filters, paper towels, laundry soap, etc.) yesterday, with my Mom in the car, nothing went right. My code didn’t work. I had to go inside, leaving my Mom sitting in the car, and it took them a while to work out what was wrong.
(“We don’t have seven number codes! . . . .Hmmm, , mmm, , , yeh, it says you have a seven number code all right, . . .. so here is your new code . . . )
And the new code didn’t work either.
They opened the gate for me, I went to my locker, and with my Mom sitting in the car, discovered my laundry soap had leaked during the time between visits, and with my Mom sitting in the car, I had to clean it all up AND dig out some relevant clothing, and some wrapping paper for gifts I need to send, and scotch tape and scissors (yes, I keep all the things that I frequently use in the locker so I don’t have to buy them again and again and again.) I also grabbed the bag of cosmetic items – like shampoo, toothpaste, my Seattle toothbrush, etc.)
My poor Mom! Remember her? She is still out there sitting in the car!
(The code didn’t work on the way out, either.)
So after all that sitting in the car, I treated Mom to a trip to Trader Joe’s, a place we both love. I picked up sugar snap peas; I just eat them like candy, instead of candy, they are SO good, and some sushi for later on, and Mom picked up things that were really bad, like triple gingersnaps and a wonderfully fragrant new Rosemary Tree.
On the way home, she said “you know you have some stuff in the guest bathroom” and I assured her that I did not, that it was all my middle sister’s stuff, and she said “No, Little Diamond looked at it while she was staying here and said it was yours, that it was stuff you use.” Hmmm. Little Diamond said that?
So when we got back to Mom’s house, I checked the cupboard, and there was one of those zipper bags like (ahem) I always use, and inside was . . . yep. Another hairbrush. Another Seattle toothbrush. Scotch tape. Scissors. My particular make-up back-ups. Shampoo. I brought it with me, and I had two almost identical zipper bags full of Seattle supplies. I can only imagine that sometimes when I get here after all those hours of traveling that my mind is just so addled I am not thinking.
It also makes me feel a little weird that Little Diamond knows me so well that she can identify MY things with just a glance at the contents of the plastic bag, LLOOLLLL! I am that predictable?
On my way over to my Mom’s, I had stopped at the local Fred Meyer’s, a Target-like local store I just love. Now that I am in Seattle, I see things differently. I see things I can hardly resist, like something in me feels like getting ready for the winter, but then, Thank God, my sterner self jerks me back just as I am reaching for:
Look at those socks! Look at those colors! I can barely resist, they are such a hoot! but then . . . where would I wear them? Even if I were abaya’d, people could see my bright polka-dot chartreused ankles and it would draw unwanted attention . . . . maybe just around the house . . .
But no . . . around the house – look at these!
Thick, fuzzy sleepers, only $16.99, like we wore when we were kids, only these are for grownups, and oh! look at that zebra print! The cheetah! They are almost irresistable!
And so irrelevant in Doha!
How to Wash Your Hands in Qatar
I had just moments in the Ladie’s room in Qatar, just moments to whip out the camera and photograph this incredibly bureaucratic approach to hygiene and cleanliness.
How many steps to wash your hands??? And who (besides me) is really going to read these instructions in such detail? I am lucky to remember to wash my hands long enough to sing “Happy Birthday to You” two times using hot water and soap!
LLOOLLL, 12 illustrated steps!
Sweet Amsterdam
I used to hate the layover in Amsterdam. I used to sit in the lounge, trying to stay awake so I wouldn’t miss my next flight. Then – I learned about the showers.
You have to scramble to be one of the first to sign up. As it was, I had to wait about an hour, but I still had plenty of time. I love getting all clean between the long flights. It’s not like I am a clean freak, but when I travel, I am just so aware of my exposure to germs from all over the world – the thousands of people who have sat in this same seat, the people who have touched this doorknob, just after sneezing, the people who are coughing and not covering their mouths – I just feel so vulnerable.
And even better – after sitting is fairly close circumstances with total strangers for hours (I am not so friendly when I am traveling) I relish having one small room all to myself, quiet, privacy, just some time alone. It makes all the difference in the world, to me.
KLM seems to be updating their lounges; the new showers are really nice, modern, clean clean clean and cool – they used to be moist, steamy, HOT. I used to feel sweatier after leaving the shower than before, but now – ah! fresh!
Look! Even a hair dryer!
I totally love these showerheads, they are called something like tropical rainfall or something, but they use less water and make it sprinkle all over – I love them!
My only complaint is a small one, and maybe more perceived than real. The women working with KLM are always so nice and jokey and friendly with all the men, and with women, they seem to have an attitude like “why are you here?” and give the men special treatment. It’s not totally across the board; I have had one or two people who knocked themselves out to help me over the years, but for the most part, they are falling all over themselves to serve the men, and they are barely dutiful when they take care of their women guests.
I also hate it that, leaving Doha, they fly into Dammam and then wait there in that creepy, barren airport for over an hour. Just when I need to be getting my prime sleep, you have to sit in an upright seat for landing, and then again for take-off. Once you take off from Dammam, it is relatively peaceful, but I just hate that stopover.
Ramadan Mubarak 2009
(image from Islam101/Ramadan)
Greetings and best wishes from AdventureMan and me to all of our Muslim friends, fasting and purifying themselves during the Muslim month of Ramadan. May your fasting and your prayers bless you abundantly, and may the month build your spiritual wholeness in every good way.
Friday, during our church service, our priest asked the congregation if any of us had literature explaining why the Muslim God was not the same as the Christian God. We all looked at him in shock. Not one person raised his or her hands.
Then he smiled, a great big broad grin and said “Good! There is only one God, and our Moslem brothers and sisters worship the same one-God we do.”
His sermon was on one of the “hard teachings” of Jesus, teachings even those closest to him had trouble understanding. That there are not exceptions to the rules, that the rules apply across the board, to us all, to all creatures God created. When the Jews, the chosen ones, rejected Jesus, they had allowed a focus on the laws to take the place of the spirit of the law – that we love God, and that as a part of loving God, we serve him by loving and serving one another, regardless of divisions, of denominations or sects.
May all the blessings of the true spirit of Ramadan be yours, my brothers and sisters.
(Yes, Purg, you ARE my brother. 🙂 )
Apartment Building Coming Down
Expats have their own shorthand, we understand one another when we talk about Doha, although the locals would not have a clue what we are talking about. So I will tell you that this apartment building was newly built at-the-end-of-Indian-Crafts-Street, you know, where the Christmas shop is – and those expats who have lived in Doha for a while will know exactly where that is.
They never even put the glass windows and balcony doors in – at some point, they must have gotten word that all this will come down for the new Dohaland, or Heart of Doha – a revival of the historical district of Qatar.
I won’t complain. I love what they did for the Suq al Waqif, which has been reinvigorated by the new life injected with the restauraunts and cafes. The same shops line the interiors, only now they have more and varied customers.
it just seems like there might be more co-ordination. This apartment building should not have even been started. I hate waste.
Civil Defiance
When I took the photo of this, I thought it was a lot funnier than it is. When I took the photo, I thought it said “Civil Defiance” and thought it was a great entry for the Fail Blog. Once I uploaded the photo and saw that it was just a mis-spelling, it was much less interesting.
Cops Find Motorists Beating Point System in Qatar
Motorists trading penalty points
Web posted at: 8/14/2009 7:42:18
Source ::: THE PENINSULA
DOHA: Some motorists have hit upon a novel idea to escape being penalised for traffic violations under the current points system, which many find deterring.
They look for people with a valid driver’s licence who are willing to get the points transferred to their name for a fee.
There is no dearth of those who are offering such services and they, obviously, are low-income foreign workers, reports Al Sharq. The going rate for a penal point transfer is around QR100.
Since traffic violations are recorded against the number plates of the vehicles, traffic officials ask the owners who was driving the vehicle when the violation took place. All an owner needs to do is provide the name of the “paid volunteer” with his driver’s licence.
“This is a new phenomenon which has come to light after the traffic authorities put stringent rules in place to check violations,” said the daily.
The points system was introduced after the authorities realised the rate of accidents was not coming down despite hefty penalties being slapped on violators. Cash-rich motorists were undeterred as they gladly paid heavy fines for violations.
But in the current points system, a motorist accumulating 14 points for traffic violations in a year can see his driver’s licence suspended for three months.
The next year, if he accumulates 12 points, his licence is suspended for two months, while in the third year it is suspended for a month if the points add up to 10. In the fourth year, a motorist needs to join a driving school and undergo tests afresh to seek a driver’s licence if he accumulates 10 points for violations as his existing licence is revoked.
According to Al Sharq, a number of people have been calling for doing away with the points system and reintroducing the old penalty system.
Jumping traffic lights attracts the maximum points at seven, while wrong parking of a car or breaching the speed limit can see some three points credited into the driver’s account. Minor violations attract fewer points.
Doha Hazard
I’m driving along, getting ready to get in the right turn lane, when all of a sudden ahead of me, I can see a change in grade: Roadworks. Only in my lane. Here is the hazard – I can get in the lane now, and bump along, or I can stay in my curent lane and switch later, but I don’t know how many other drivers are adopting that strategy, and if I don’t make the right turn, I have to go many blocks out of my way. I signal and get in the raw, bumpy lane.
There just isn’t any good time to do roadworks. Some of the roads have serious potholes, many of the side roads have other serious defects. They have to be fixed, but oh the mess, the inconvenience. It’s the same in Kuwait, it’s the same in Seattle. I think of the bureaucrats who have to raise the funds (at least in Kuwait and Doha, it’s not taxes!), hire the companies, make the decisions and bear the howling complaints of the inconvenienced while the necessary work takes place.
At least on this day traffic is flowing smoothly and drivers are making allowances for one another. Things could be a lot worse.
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