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.
Who Is My Neighbor?
You would think when someone so special is talking, people would listen. You would think that when he is trying to tell us what God expects from us to enter into his kingdom in the after life, people would be listening, and indeed, they listened, many listened. There were others who did not. There were also those closest to him who misunderstood! That always baffles me, that those closest could misunderstand.
Today’s lesson is one of my very favorites in the world. You can substitute any two races who hate one another and the story is equally clear. The man who was asking the question was setting Jesus up, or trying to, and Jesus used the occasion to teach a stunning truth – that love is stronger than hate.
Luke 10:25-37
25 Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus.* ‘Teacher,’ he said, ‘what must I do to inherit eternal life?’
26He said to him, ‘What is written in the law? What do you read there?’
27He answered, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbour as yourself.’
28And he said to him, ‘You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.’
29 But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbour?’
30Jesus replied, ‘A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. 32 So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan while travelling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii,* gave them to the innkeeper, and said, “Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.” 36 Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?’
37He said, ‘The one who showed him mercy.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Go and do likewise.’
I have seen this in my own life. I have seen hopeless situations, with no solution in sight, totally change because one person chooses to love, instead of to hate. Choosing to love, in the face of hatred, takes a lot more character, a lot more strength. It has the potential for changing everything.
Breathless Day
The air is still, and there isn’t a single wave on the vast, flat glassy Gulf. At eight in the morning, it is already breathlessly hot:
It’s not getting any better. Maybe by the beginning of next week, as you can see, a little “cold” weather will be moving in 😉
The only way you can determine the difference between water and air is the layer of yellow tinged haze on the far horizon:
Here is what my life looks like right now:
Yesterday, a sweet friend dragged me away from all the packing and focus on moving and treated me to a day at the Aquatonic Spa. I admit it, she had to drag me – I can get so immersed in my misery that I don’t even want to do something fun.
In spite of my churlishness, we had a great time. Playing around in that fabulous pool, and then having beauty treatments afterwards – it just took all the misery out of me. I felt great for the first time in weeks. I slept last night without waking, and awoke refreshed, thanks be to God, and thanks to my friend who knew what I needed better than I did.
Selling My Car
I have a darling little car, I bought it in Doha six years ago. Aye, there’s the rub. While the company agreed to ship the car for us, Qatar won’t accept a car older than 5 years old. My sweet car has less than 40K km on it, has been lovingly maintained, and I totally love it – I was outraged at Qatar. But being outraged at a bureaucracy is a loser’s game, it isn’t going to change, the rules aren’t going to be excepted for me. So I had to sell the car.
I looked up the blue book price, and I knew my car was better than that, but these are hard times for selling a used car. I just put it out word-of-mouth, and within a week, I had my buyer.
She came. She sat in the car. She said “I will take it.”
I said “but you haven’t even driven it!”
She said “I can look at you, and look at this car, and I know it is a good car.”
We talked about a price. We agreed to a price a little higher than the blue book price, a little lower than I wanted. We were both happy.
She paid me in cash.
When we went to transfer title – this is Kuwait – the administrative section was closed! It wasn’t supposed to be closed! The area was full of Kuwaitis, Jordanians, people like us, wanting to transfer title. Fortunately, the woman knew another administration place nearby, so we went there, and after the normal finagling, the title transferred and all was completed.
We really wanted this woman to have the car. It has so many good years left on it, and this is a good woman.
AdventureMan laughs at how quietly all the decisions were made, all the negotiations done. The day after we sold the car, we got an SMS from the buyer saying how happy she was, and asking God to bless us richly. We feel already blessed, having sold the car to a fine woman.
Shutting Down
Yes, I’ve been busy. Yes, it involves movers, and bureaucracy, and parties, and the normal getting-ready-for-summer activities.
But the reason I’m not blogging a lot is that I’ve been shutting down, emotionally.
Here is a truth about me. I handle bad situations by shutting down. If I feel too much, I just get overwhelmed and don’t function. When I was packing boxes – and sighing – I could only pack a couple boxes and I would have to go lie down. It wasn’t physical so much as emotionally draining, packing up a life. I can’t really even begin to think about starting up a new one; I just need to get through finishing up this one.
So I just pack away all my grief with my household goods. Honestly, it works for me. I probably appear cold and unfeeling. The unfeeling part is true – I can make myself not feel, or at least postpone the feeling part. It gets me through the tough parts. I think it helps me survive. You go on automatic pilot. You go through the motions. You are only half there.
For me, the hardest part is being around people. Keeping all the feelings shut away is hard work! It’s exhausting! Or maybe it’s the scorching heat, but I come home and cannot stay awake, I have to take a nap. I wake up feeling better. I read late into the night – late for me. It’s OK, when I count up the nap sleeping with my night sleeping, I am getting enough sleep.
I have a very few good friends who know exactly where I am emotionally, and they shield me. We talk as if life were not going to change drastically, and for us, it won’t, there will still be the e-mails and visits. When I make a good friend, she/he is a friend for life. They don’t ask too much of me right now, but they are there to protect me when I need it. They are getting me through the tough times, and these are tough times.
When I get to Doha, I will start feeling again. I will allow the grief to seep in slowly, I will cry a little when no one is around to see, and slowly, slowly, as I grieve, I will also be engaging in a new life – slowly, slowly.
The Qatteri Cat is going through the same thing. He has built himself a little hidey-hole back in my old project room / Little Diamond’s room. He crawls into a pile of pillows and comforter until he is invisible, safe, warm, and sleeps. When he is awake, it is too depressing for him – his territory has changed so dramatically, none of the old reliable places are there.
So we comfort one another.
Prayer Reshapes Your Brain
This is a very small excerpt from a much longer article I found on National Public Radio News, a special series on The Science of Spirituality. This article (you can read it all by clicking on the blue type, above) talks about measuring brain activity while a person is praying, how the brain changes. Fascinating stuff.
A Sense Of Oneness With The Universe
Newberg did that with Michael Baime. Baime is a doctor at the University of Pennsylvania and a Tibetan Buddhist who has meditated at least an hour a day for the past 40 years. During a peak meditative experience, Baime says, he feels oneness with the universe, and time slips away.
“It’s as if the present moment expands to fill all of eternity,” he explains, “that there has never been anything but this eternal now.”
When Baime meditated in Newberg’s brain scanner, his brain mirrored those feelings. As expected, his frontal lobes lit up on the screen: Meditation is sheer concentration, after all. But what fascinated Newberg was that Baime’s parietal lobes went dark.
“This is an area that normally takes our sensory information, tries to create for us a sense of ourselves and orient that self in the world,” he explains. “When people lose their sense of self, feel a sense of oneness, a blurring of the boundary between self and other, we have found decreases in activity in that area.”
Newberg found that result not only with Baime, but also with other monks he scanned. It was the same when he imaged the brains of Franciscan nuns praying and Sikhs chanting. They all felt the same oneness with the universe. When it comes to the brain, Newberg says, spiritual experience is spiritual experience.
“There is no Christian, there is no Jewish, there is no Muslim, it’s just all one,” Newberg says.
Investment in Africa
This was in the morning’s e-mail. Unlike the e-mails I post inviting me to get lots and lots of free money, this one seems to have some interesting information. Here is one excerpt from their opening page, The Conversation Behind Closed Doors:
To make itself more attractive for US investment, Africa should:
Invest in education , health and infrastructure
Ensure the rule of law and a business-friendly climate for all investing companies
Show it is serious about attracting foreign investment
Market itself as aggressively as other regions of the world
Demonstrate opportunity cost of not investing
I would have to say there is nothing I disagree with there. I have not explored the whole site, but it looks legitimate, and interesting, if you, like me, are interested in Africa, and future solutions.
Hi
I’m reaching out to you because I thought you and the readers of here there and Everywhere would be fascinated by what my firm has recently uncovered about the attitudes toward corporate investment in Africa among leading U.S. corporations — according to senior officers of 30 American Fortune 100 corporations we interviewed. Why has Africa not attracted more interest from the U.S. business community? We have collected all of the answers and case studies into a news release introducing a study that launched yesterday commissioned by the US Chamber of Commerce:
http://www.usafricainvestment.com
We’re very excited about the revelations in this paper and would love it if you could let your readers know about what we’ve uncovered through a post or a tweet. If you are able to post please let me know so that I can share it with the team. If you have any questions or would like to speak to the partners who wrote this paper, let me know and I will set it up.
Thank you so much,
Fabiane
—
Fabiane Dal-Ri
fabiane@usafricainvestment.com
Joy in Kuwait
You might think it is the inner feminist in me that is rejoicing, and you would be only half right. The Kuwait elections brought me a lot of joy, for many reasons. First, as an equal opportunity woman, you need to know that I believe women are every bit as capable of veniality and stupidity as men, and that not being in power has only meant not having equal opportunity to abuse that power. And then – you take a look at the women who were elected – smart women. Capable women! Not-your-shy-shrinking-violet kind of women! Women who know how to organize, how to delegate, and how to discuss and resolve differences.
FOUR women! Four highly educated women, who inspired droves of supporters not only to vote – but also to campaign.
Across the board, it struck me as a very sober election. It was as if people thought this might be their last chance, and they took their vote very very seriously. In the fifth district, voters crossed tribal lines, broke with rigid alliances.
Here are three conversations that caused me to rejoice.
On election day, my good Kuwaiti friend, a guy about the same age as AdventureMan and I, leaned over and said “My dear, today I voted for a Shiite woman! This is Kuwait! This is the REAL Kuwait, where no-one ever cared, Shiite or Sunni, no-one ever asked, we all worked together. I voted for her because I thought she was the best candidate.”
He’s been educating me on Kuwait ever since we got here. He grew up about a block from the big food court down at Mubarakiyya. I was just glad to know he had voted – he had seemed so dejected, so hopeless after the last election, I wasn’t sure he would even give it one more try. Something inspired him. Something gave him the courage to hope just one more time.
I talked with a young friend who was active in the campaign of a winning candidate. Well, really mostly SHE talked, and I just listened with a big grin on my face. It doesn’t even matter who she campaigned for, this woman was PUMPED! She had committed, she had engaged, she was on the phones and on the campaign lines and her candidate won! I could hear the transformation in her voice – this is the Kuwait of tomorrow.
At an earlier time, she had told me that the decisions were all made by “elderly” people (meaning people over 40, I think, people like me!) and that young people were getting discouraged, waiting for their turn. All that was gone, as I listened to her voice. She knows she can make a difference NOW in Kuwait. I could not stop grinning. I think she is one of the leaders of tomorrow. 🙂
My third Kuwaiti friend said to me “so many of the winners were from good families, but not the big, rich families! This is the first time!” and she said it with sheer amazement. She said “I think we may be on our way to a true democracy!” I was shocked. I never thought I would hear those words, not after the cynicism and discouragement apparent during the last legislature, when many Kuwaits awoke with a shock to the fact that their legislature had been hijacked, their voices stolen. “This is not the real Kuwait” they kept assuring me after the last election, as they watched in shock and horror as the newly elected MP’s postured and promised and promised “grillings” but did nothing for the population who had elected them in terms of basics – housing, roads, electricity/energy, or groundwork for future development.
My joy is in the renewal of their spirit. It’s not my election. But oh, I dance with joy for your joy, Kuwait, and I celebrate your commitment to the future.
PS For our non-Kuwaiti readers – early in the election campaigns, one party announced a religious fatwa (edict) saying that it was forbidden to vote for women. I think it outraged people badly enough to create a huge backlash.
Alexander McCall Smith: Tea Time for the Traditionally Built
This brand new book in the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series could not have come at a better time for me. Sorting through, giving away, selling my car – it all takes a toll. It’s a little like dying, this moving. I know I will be “resurrected” in another life, but in the meanwhile, I have so much grief, and I just stuff it away and keep going. These books are my carrots; they are my reward at the end of the day.
I have a stack of books and I am going through them like a locomotive – just chugging along.
Mma Precious Ramotswe and her totally different world in Botswana sweep me away totally. I love the sweetness of the way she thinks, her love for her country, and her tolerance. In Tea Time for the Traditionally Built, several things are going on at once, not the least of which is that she, also, must part with her dearly loved little white van, which has gone as far as it can go, and can go no further. The engine cannot be revived, not even one more time, by her dear husband, mechanic J.L.B. Matekoni.
Just in time, just when they need a new customer, comes Mr. Molofololo, the owner and manager of the Kalahari Swoopers, who hires Mma Ramotswe to find the traitor who is causing the Swoopers to lose their games.
Last, but not least, Mma Makutsi’s fiancee (she is the Assistant Detective now, remember?) Phuti Radiphuti, is being assaulted by Makutsi’s old rival from the secretarial school, Violet Sephotho, who is looking for a rich husband, and would love to steal Grace’s fiancee away, for all the worst reasons. How can plain Grace, with her big glasses and her unfortunate complexion, compete with the glamorous and seductive Violet? Can Phuti resist her wiles?
When I reached the last ten pages of the book, none of these crises had been resolved, and I thought “Oh no! How can the book end with all these loose ends out there?” but in a deft drawing together, McCall vanquishes the devils, finds simple solutions, and leaves us with Mma Ramotswe and Mma Makutsi having tea together at the President Hotel.
This book is a great way to end the day with a smile on your face. 🙂 I bought this book for $21 in a bookstore, but Amazon has it for $14.37 plus shipping. I don’t buy a lot of hardcover books, but this one was worth every penny.
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