Blue Light Special
Back in the United States, there is a store, K-mart, that from time to time makes an announcement:
Attention, K-mart shoppers. We have a blue light special for the next fifteen minutes on (vacuum cleaners/ school supplies / men’s clothing / holiday wrapping / . . .ad infinitum) on Aisle whatever.
So when I saw this at the local co-op, I just had to grin:
A Male Theory
I read this op-ed piece yesterday in the Kuwait Times, and found it heartbreaking. And yet . . . I read hints of these stories in your blogs, too. I am printing this with the author’s permission. Tell me what you think – and make a copy and send it on to Fouad Al-Obaid, whose e-mail address is at the end of the article.
A Male Theory
By: Fouad Al-Obaid
In recent talks with many friends, I heard rather spine chilling revelations on how my fellow males (Kuwaiti that is) perceive their fellow Kuwaiti girl counterparts! Today I will try to rationally touch upon a matter that is highly irrational in nature. I will discuss the Kuwaiti male theory on women, dating and relating.
The average Abdallah I have noticed is a person filled with great ego, an individual who has a desire to control and manipulate others. In his desire to manipulate, often encourage by both elder relatives and society at large, seemingly has developed a tendency to project power over his friends, enemies, and concubines alike.
The desire of power is inherently something that most men aspire to. However if everyone in society was a leader then it would be hard to govern. Hence men in local custom, and to an extent projected in religion are deemed to be sovereigns of their possessions, which could be understood as leaders of their family and of the people that directly report to them. In this social order, a concubine is yet another person the average Abdallah can project his power upon.
A dilemma however constantly surrounds the average Abdallah for despite his desire to grow his “harem” he is conscious that perhaps other ill-natured people: people at the end of the day similar to him, are likewise on the look for yet another conquest.
Abdallah aware of the situation realizes that people out there could try to make any-given number of his female relatives likewise concubines in their respective “harems”. At this point if one question’s Abdallah’s rational of wanting other female yet at the same time if one transgressed his “sovereign kingdom” he would not hesitate to decapitate the fool who would have dared come close to any of his female relatives. Yet he like a lion in a jungle after a long day preying on Gulf Street and Marina, nevertheless is proud to share details of his hunt with fellow kings at their weekly roundtable or more correctly speaking “diwaniya”.
Moving to the next illogical notion that many have in recent times developed, if a girl accepts to even talk “innocently” on the phone it is seen as a big problem by many, yet most if not all people I have come to known do it on a rather consistent basis. Following the initial contact, a relationship develops usually, and more often than not, it would be an open one, unless off course prince-charming is eloquent in speech and threatening in nature. If the later is the case, then another highly illogical matter arises. Brining back the concept of power and control, guys I have noticed have this inherent nature to have the final word on most of everything. This is applied to “dating” for I have witnessed many irrational actions based on the later notion.
I recall once being with a friend cruising around when he called his “girlfriend” and asked here where she was. Upon knowing that she was out with her mother, he started to literally scream and shout at her, telling her how she disobeyed his command to not go out, and ordered her to return home immediately, he further instructed her to make an excuse in order for her mother not to doubt anything was wrong with her! I for one was shocked by the conversation and so I intriguingly asked the given friend about the rational of his action.
In all calm and serenity he replied that he had to teach her how to respect him. Furthermore he went on how it made him feel good, and that it was her fault not to ask permission from him to go out! What made the situation that much more unusual was the fact that they were “phone-dating”, needless to mention the irony of the situation!
On the one hand you have the guy ordering a girl he physically isn’t close to. On the other hand you have a girl who naively believed that the guy was overprotective and saw it as a gesture of love, or simply plainly put happened to be stupid, foolish enough to abide by the rules of a guy she barely knew; certainly a guy she will not end up having any meaningful relationship with.
For thoughts and comments fouad@kuwaittimes.net
So here is my question – would a man marry a woman who had a phone relationship with him? Is a phone relationship enough to ruin a woman’s reputation?
“Woh ist der bahnhof?” Revisited
Today, in the co-op I was looking for toilet paper, because we were perilously low. In the diaper section I found three women workers (when did women start working in the co-ops? I really like it!) who wanted to help.
“Ana ashuf . . .” I started off (I am looking for) but I don’t know how to say toilet paper, so I said “toilet paper”.
Blank faces. I’m trying to think of a way to say it in Arabic, roundabout, but all I can say, weakly is to repeat “toilet paper”.
Blank faces. But kind, patient, so I say it again.
The light goes on.
“Ah! Toi LET paper!” she says, with the accent on the second syllable.
“Yes!” I say, as she leads me there, continuing to correct me: “Toi LET paper, Toi LET paper.”
The Kuwait Church Souk
In Kuwait, as in most of the Middle East, in the shopping areas, shops that sell the same kind of goods are grouped together. “Souks” in the traditional shopping areas are small stalls, or open displays, thus all the vegetable vendors are grouped in one area, the perfume dealers in another, the cloth dealers in another. It is handy – when you go looking for something, if one shop doesn’t have it, another surely will.
I remember once looking for masonry screws in Doha; when the first stall didn’t have it, he left his stall – and all his merchandise, unprotected – and took me to his friend, who did have them. Sometimes a stall owner will send a helper to another store, and return with the item you are seeking.
Even some of the large malls seem to group similar vendors in the same spots. In Saudi Arabia, I remember entire floors devoted to shoes, or to abayas, or to accessories, or cloth and tailors.
So it gives me a big grin to go to churchin Kuwait on Fridays.
Friday mornings are sleepy in Kuwait. It’s a day off for the majority of the population, and Moslems go to the mosque for Friday prayers around noon. In the middle of downtown Kuwait, however, even early on a Friday morning, there is a hive of activity – at what we call the “church souk”.
It’s really a very clever concept, and also one that tickes my heart. In one area are many many churches. They are all Christian, and range from congregations of mainly Indian men, to Phillipino families, Nigerians, Chinese, Western, Baptist, Evangelical, Catholic, Orthodox, at least one congregation which has live musicians playing loud, joyful hymns and then more staid and traditional congregations.
I’ve often wondered how all these different congregations manage to work out a schedule – there must be at least 10 – 12 different meeting locations – for sharing the chapels, for managing the time needed to get people seated, and then to clear up and get people out again. It’s exactly these kinds of little bureaucratic quibblings that can stir up a hornet’s next of problems between “like minded” believers. If there are problems, the church leaders seem to work them out without acrimony. I wonder how they do that?
In my heart, I believe this is how we were meant to worship – and although our worship has different styles, it delights me that we all – hundreds of us, if not thousands – meet in the one area, every Friday, and have the freedom, here in Kuwait, to worship each in our own style. That’s a very powerful freedom.
What is Your Greatest Fear?
Reach down deep. Take your time. Think about this.
A friend sent one of those “getting to know you” e-mails, and this question was on it: What is your greatest fear?
(Photo from Acclaim images)
My first reaction is – whoa! That is a VERY personal question! But I shared my answer with her.
One of the reasons we share when we blog, I think, is to connect with one another, to make this world a less lonely place. When we are going through a hard time – and don’t be fooled, no matter how good, how together, we look on the outside, we ALL go through hard times – it helps to know that we are not the only person in the world who has ever gone through this, whatever this may be.
There are things we don’t talk about. From time to time, you find a friend you can really really trust, and you take a chance. What a relief! You discover, if you are lucky, that maybe he or she has been there, too. At the very worst, you have someone who knows what you have suffered. It can be years down the road that they come back to you and say “I’m there now – can you help me through it?” And two people are less alone, and your suffering has not been for nothing; it has equipped you to walk this path with your friend, and lighten the load a little.
So here is is: my greatest fear is to die a meaningless, stupid death.
I don’t want to die on a Kuwait highway saying “oh sh$t” as I see some doped up, testerone-loaded, out-of-control driver barreling straight into me.
I don’t want to die as a random, unchosen victim of terrorist attack, like 9/11, or Pan Am 103.
I don’t want to trip over my high heels and break my neck falling down the stairs. (My own stupidity!)
I wouldn’t mind dying a heroic death, but my preference is to die quietly, prepared, even eager to meet my Creator. But my terror is to die too soon, for no good reason, as the result of someone’s stupidity.
So. I’ve taken the risk, early on this Thursday morning. Step up to the plate. Take a deep breath. Even if you’ve never commented before, take a risk, here, now. (Regular commenters, welcome!) Share your greatest fear.
What is your greatest fear?
Ultrametabolism and Kuwait Diet
I used to be thin. Really thin. Actually, I have been really thin several times in my life, but, *sigh* no longer.
This morning as I was picking up my e-mail, this review on AOL caught my eye. Dr. Mark Hymon is one of the AOL Wellness Coaches, and he has written two books, one called Ultrametabolism, about using your built in genetic strengths to lose weight and maintain the weight loss naturally, and one called Ultraprevention about foods to eat (and not to eat) to contribute to overall wellness and good health.
If you’ve been reading me for a while, you will know that I can be a little cynical.
What I like about Dr. Hymon’s approach is that it makes sense.
Diets that totally eliminate foods you love just aren’t going to work. Give up pasta for the rest of your life? I don’t think so. But what Dr. Hymon asks us to do is to eat mostly non-processed, or minimally processed foods. He says that the processed foods have components that the body doesn’t even recognize as food, and that’s why after eating things like Twinkies, Mars bars, packaged crackers, etc. we still feel hungry – our bodies don’t recognize what we have eaten as food.
Here is what Dr. Hymon suggests (this is from the AOL Health and Fitness section):
How to use what you eat to tell your DNA how to slim you down and live a healthier life.
Day 1. Clean out your cabinets, refrigerator and freezer. Get rid of packaged items filled with processed fats and sugars. Check the lable – if it says “hydrogenated oil” or “high fructose corn syrum” get rid of it.
Day 2. Go shopping for whole foods. Find a farmer’s market in your area for fresh produce and schedule visits in your calendar weekly or biweekly over the next few months. At the grocery, choose items from the “perishable perimeter” of the store, instead of items in the center aisles where processed foods lurk.
Day 3. Change your oil! Throw out old oils, which can become rancid quickly. Replace vegetable oils like safflower and canola with extra-virgin olive oil and make it your primary oil for cooking and salad dressings.
Day 4. Visit a health food sotre. Leave there with 10 new items you’ve never tried before. Bulk-purchase whole grains, legumes and nuts. Look for new whole grain cereals, breads and snacks without processed additives, fats, sugars or preservatives. And remember: just because it’s in a health food store, doesn’t mean it’s good for you. Read the labels of any packaged foods you buy.
Day 5. Choose Eggs! Choose organic eggs farmed with omega-3 fats. Make yourself a spinach omelet for breakfast. Eggs are a good source of protein. You can enjoy as many as eight a week.
Day 6. Become wild about fish. Find a local fishmonger or educate yourself by talking to your local grocer. Or learn more about which fish are best to eat by visiting www. ultrametabolism.com. Print out a primer to bring with you when you shop.
Day 7. Prepare some healthy snacks for when you’re on-the-go. Pack a small zipper bag with a few servings of almonds or walnuts. One handful equals a serving.
Day 8. Don’t go thirsty. By now, you’ve tossed the sodas. Bring out the blender and learn to make high protein, no sugar smoothies. Experiment with crushed ice and fresh fruits. You can even make frozen nut cubes by soaking nuts overnight, blending them and then freezing them with a bit of water or milk in ice cube trays. Your smoothie will be creamy and full of good fats and proteins.
As I did his online mini-seminar, I found myself thinking “everything this Dr. Hymon is recommending is the way Kuwaitis USED TO eat.” And I also found myself thinking what a wealth of opportunity we are living amidst, here in Kuwait, where we can go to any market and buy FRESH fish, really fresh, right off the boats, in the local fish markets. We can buy fresh meats, and fresh vegetables, lots of them grown right here in Kuwait. We can buy fresh eggs. even fresh chicken when not under threat of Avian Flu. Kuwait is a paradise for exactly this kind of diet.
Not only do we have access to fresh, locally grown foods, but the cost is so much less than processed foods on the shelves. He is talking about lentils and grains commonly available here in those big sacks, down in the Souk Mubarakiyya, as well as in the co-ops and the Sultan Centers.
This isn’t anything new, eating low on the food chain, eating fresh, but it does strike me as a diet that particularly works in Kuwait, and a kind of diet that you can live with for the rest of your life, because it doesn’t make changes in your life that you can’t live with. Like he does tell us to give up soda, one of the main contributors to obesity in the world today. As you get older, carbonated beverages aren’t that hard to give up because they also give you heartburn, so just another reason to steer clear of all those unwanted calories the body can’t identify as food.
He didn’t say anything about chocolate . . . but I have ordered both books from Amazon.com hoping that the dark, semi-sweet, barely processed chocolate that I love will also be “just what the doctor ordered.” Meanwhile . . . I hear a spinach omelet calling my name!
“Woh ist der bahnhof?”
One of our family jokes is about how when you go to live in Germany, for some reason, one of the first phrases you learn isn’t “guten tag” or “Wiegehts” (hello! / how are you?) but “where is the train station?” And it is particularly hilarious because even if you ever say it exactly right (or so you think) no one can understand what you are saying. And if they DO understand – they start giving you directions with elaborate hand signals.
Germans are very precise. They won’t just point in a general direction, they will use all kinds of words for left, right, straight ahead, and my personal favorite “gegenuber” which means catty-corner, or diagonally across from something, all words that the beginner doesn’t have a clue. So even if you successfully ask for directions, you can’t understand the answer.
Most of the time, however, you will ask “woh ist der bahnhof” several times, as the response is continually “wie, bitte?”, the polite way of sayinh “WHAT??” and then finally they will get this “aha!” and they will say “Oh! Woh ist der bahnhof?!” and it sounds exactly like what you have been saying for the last five minutes.
I had a “woh is der bahnhof” experience here in Kuwait. I was searching for a souk I had heard about. I asked some of my friends – where is the souk Watiniya? I experienced that two seconds of total blank non-response that always feels like two days, and then one of them laughed and said “oh, she means the souk Watiya” and they told me where it was.
But I’m getting smarter. It wasn’t the part where I added the extra syllable that confused them. It was the fact that I used the soft “t” and not the hard “t”. It’s a small thing, but enough to make me dance for joy – I can hear the difference!
Djinns and Jewish Grandmothers
Two small nuggets from today’s Kuwait Times.
Black ‘Jinn’ Terrorizes Bayan Neighborhood
Kuwait: Terrified Bayan residents were unable to sleep last night from fears of being victims of an unknown creature, which attacked many of them.
Police said that they received several reports from residents of the creature, which they dubbed as ‘jinn.’ One complaintant said that the ‘jinn’ attacked his wife while she was praying; another said that his daughter had been attacked and strangled, while a third said that someone kept consistently knocking on his bedroom window but none claimed to have actually seen the ‘jinn.’
(Police captured a “ferocious black ape”.)
I love this second article:
Jewish Grandmothers Patrol Checkpoints in West Bank
Jerusalem: Hanna Barag remembers the day an Israeli soldier called her a Palestinian whore. She was 67 and she had just joined Machsomwatch, an all-women group set up to curb human rights abuses at military checkpoints in the West Bank. “It was at the Qalandia checkpoint between Jerusalem and Ramallah,” Barag said, “and the remark at first struck me speechless. But then I asked him two questions: ‘Do you really think a woman my age has a chance at that profession? And would you say what you said to me to YOUR grandmother?'”
The soldier said nothing, but was embarrassed, and when Barag, who was born in Israel and describes herself as a Zionist, returned for another “shift” of watchdog duty a week later, the soldier was there – and apologized.
That was in the early days of Machsomwatch, set up in 2001 by three Israeli women who were alarmed by a spate of reports of beatings and abuse of Palestinians at the hands of Israeli soldiers manning checkpoints. . .
You can read the rest of the story here.
Little old ladies in tennis shoes, volunteering to guard the guards one night a week. . . changing their world.
Peeking Inside
You are a blessing in my life.
You think you are just blogging, but for me, you allow me to get a little bit beneath the surface of what your lives are like here in Kuwait.
I have to assume that most of you, like me, protect a lot of realities in your life, and that I am just getting the surface, just getting what you feel comfortable sharing with me.
And yet . . .no matter how superficial the “peek,” it is better than nothing.
Over time, we build a body of work. No matter how discreet we are ( Little Diamond I almost wrote “discrete,” and thinking of your pet peeve, checked it, thank God!) we reveal how we think, and what is important to us.
I love having some Kuwaiti friends. You teach me things I could never learn in a million years, just looking from the outside.
True story: I am having breakfast with my Kuwait friend at the Al-Kout Mall and she shivers. This friend is very special to me; it’s as if a flame burns inside her, keeping her pure and true from the inside out.
“I feel so out of place here!” she says.
I am truly bewildered.
“You are Kuwaiti! This is a Kuwaiti Mall!” I cry. “What is it that makes you so uncomfortable?”
“It’s like another world,” she says. “I’m not dressed conservatively enough.”
She is dressed in jeans – not tight. A t-shirt – not tight. And has a long sleeved shirt to go over it tied around her shoulders. She is entirely modest.
“I don’t see it,” I say. “Please, let me see through your eyes. What are you seeing, how is it different, why are you uncomfortable?”
“You’ve been to Marina Mall,” she responded. “You can see the difference?”
Of course. But Marina Mall . . . it is kind of a la la land to me, sort of bizarre. It almost looks Western, but there are things that are just not quite right . . .
“Yes,” she said. “You’ve got it.”
I still don’t know what I’ve got. So she starts explaining . . .”Look, you can see how the thobes are cut differently down here, tighter around the chest.”
(Uh . . . no, I can’t see!)
“. . . and the cuffs, the way they button. And the shoes are different, less . . . . ”
all of a sudden, I am thinking of my friend who taught Arabic, and the hours she labored, trying to get me to hear the difference between the light “t” and the hard “t”, I am trying and trying, but I don’t get it and then one day – I do!
I thank God for you, my friends, letting me see through your eyes, helping me understand, giving me new ways of seeing the world.
You All Look the Same to Us
“Which one is Noriko?” my instructor asked me.
“She’s Japanese, ” I responded, “She sits between Katrina and Joyce.”
She looked up at me and grinned.
“We can’t tell you apart, you know,” she laughed. “You all look the same to us. It takes us weeks, even months, to be able to tell you apart.”
Maybe I should have been offended, but I wasn’t. My class was made up of Europeans, Americans, Asians – people from all over the world who wanted to learn Arabic. It was funny to me that she couldn’t tell us apart, but I often have the same problem – I’m bad with faces. When you’re the teacher, looking out at a sea of faces – it takes a while.
But it has become a family tag-line, a joke – “You all look the same to us”.
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