Like Magic
I woke up this morning, astounded at how easy the transition has been in this direction. Yes, there are some moments in late afternoon when I can’t keep my eyes open, but . . . well, that can happen even when I am NOT jet lagging, LOL! AdventureMan and I are both doing well. We got up at our normal time this morning, well rested. Thanks be to God!
Yesterday I finished a quilt I have been working on for a Pensacola Quilt Guild challenge; it actually went to Kuwait with me, but I did not put in a single stitch while I was gone. I had great light, too, just not the time or interest in working on it. It’s finished now, hanging, so I can inspect for stray threads, etc. that I might have missed . . .
We emptied our day of activities yesterday, no water aerobics, no bible study, we just took it easy on ourselves, gave ourselves a day to transition to Pensacola mode. I did three loads of laundry, we both unpacked, and AdventureMan is now immersed in tax documents. Maybe this year we will actually submit our taxes on time, although the mere thought is enough to make me laugh, it is so unthinkable. We are lucky if we get them in by June in a normal year, but ‘normal’ is different now, living back in the United States, and we are trying to get on track with being residents again.
No photos; we are doing things we have done before and told you about. Breakfast at the Shiny Diner. AdventureMan was dying for lunch at Sonny’s Bar-B-Q; AdventureMan laughed, I hadn’t eaten there since he left, but it’s always good, always reliable, and I especially love their smoked turkeys. Dinner was the delicious chili EnviroGirl left in our refrigerator, how can anything that delicious be good for you?
On. On. Today I think I will finally buy my iPhone. 🙂
Travel Mercies
Before I left, my bible study group promised to pray for me, for safe travel, and for travel mercies.
What are travel mercies? Travel mercies are blessings you don’t even know you need, small interventions that make a big difference. So many times on this trip to Kuwait, I smiled, thinking “I know my friends are praying for me,” I could feel the travel mercies.
The trip down to the Mubarakiyya for dinner – a serious travel mercy. It wasn’t a life or death thing, and I didn’t even dare to bring it up, AdventureMan was so busy. And yet, we got there, we had a wonderful dinner with friends, we got to see the lights of the Seif Palace. Oh Wow, and thank you, Lord, for these blessings, these unexpected mercies.
Our trip home was flawless. Flights on time, and although we were on a flight I don’t usually like, it was fine. Sometimes on this late-night flight you’ll get a blow-hard or two, guys that want to drink and share all their insights and knowledge in a loud voice, long into the flight, when everyone else wants to sleep. Not this time. 🙂 This flight was quiet, even the babies were quiet. Everyone slept. And slept. And slept. Perfect travel mercy.
Schlepping through immigration and customs was about as painless as it can be, given that it is a pain-in-the-neck. More travel mercies, the kind you can fail to even notice – unless these little things go wrong, so terribly wrong.
“Welcome home,” our immigrations guy said cheerfully. We grinned. It is good to be back.
We got into Pensacola with enough time to run out to We Tuck ‘Em Inn to pick up the Qatteri Cat, who let us know how annoyed he was to be left behind. We knew – from experience – that dealing with his annoyance was waaaaayyyy better than dealing with a traumatized cat at the end of those brutal flights. He is in great condition, maybe a little bored, but happy, and his fur is clean. Mercy. Merci.
Home again, home again. Our son and his wife had left AdventureMan’s car at the airport for us, and had left a delicious chile, vegetables and dip, and apples in our refrigerator for us, such a loving welcome home. We were able to drop by and hug the Happy Baby before he shut down for the night. All is well. Infinite mercies.
By the Grace of God, and in his mercy. I thank God for my believer-sisters, whatever their faiths, that keep me wealthy in travel mercies.
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. 🙂
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. 🙂
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.
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
Until I sat down to write these reviews (so I can pass these along to friends in Kuwait who I know will read and discuss them 🙂 ) I didn’t realize that the books had so much in common. They both take place in the WWII time frame, and both are told from the point of view of children coming of age in this time. Both are love stories, romantic, parental, community – they have many of the same elements. They both have bullies, and children who steal. They both have wise adult conspirators, mentors and guides.
In The Book Thief, right off you get a chill. One of the main characters in a personification of Death, a tired, weary, cynical Death, but a Death who is fascinated by his humans. When the opening pages are written by Death, you get a feeling that this can’t be good.
And, in the beginning, it is not good. Liesel is on her way . . . somewhere, we don’t know where, on a long train ride, during which her brother dies. They are forced off the train, and her brother is buried in some small village where they are unknown; the grave will probably never be visited. Shortly after, they re-board another train, and when they arrive, Liesel is turned over to a government foster family agency, and she is placed with a rough, uneducated couple in a small village on the outskirts of Germany.
Not far from Dachau.
So many similar elements . . . people at the mercy of their government, and the madness of the politicians and mass hysteria. Bullies, but not just in the schoolyards, here there is also a nationally encouraged group of bullies, the Nazis, and people in every village are encouraged to join the party. The kids join Hitler Youth and practice to become good Nazis.
Except inside each one of us resides a spirit of humanity, and if you let that spirit dominate, you can come into conflict with the party, even if you appear to comply most of the time. Liesel’s foster parents turn out to be a very humane sort. They feel compassion for the Jews marched through their village on the way to the camps, and attempt to give them a little bread, for although they have little to share, they can see that these Jews are starving.
And then, a stranger arrives on the doorstep, the son of a man who saved Liesel’s Papa’s life in the first world war. He is Jewish. He needs a place to be hidden. Liesel’s foster parents take him in and hide him in the basement.
Only after I read the book and read the afterword did I discover this is a book written for young adults, and that makes me laugh, because I am not a young adult, and I enjoyed the book so much. I love books about the triumph of the human spirit, the triumph of good over evil, and the triumph of hope and life over hopelessness. Even Death has a heart, in this book.
I know that there will be one copy of this book in Kuwait; I am leaving it with a friend I know will read it, and I know she will pass it along, because this is a book worth discussing. I hope you are friends with my friend, and that you will get a chance to read it, too!
Hotel at the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford
This book had everything going for it, and still I had a hard time getting into it. The book was given by Little Diamond to my Mom – Little Diamond often passes along the very best, thought-provoking books, and in our family we pass the best along, so I knew it would be good. I love the title. The book is set in a part of Seattle now called – euphemistically – The International District, but as I was growing up, and among older Seattle-ites, it is called Chinatown, even though that is not politically correct, or geographically correct. Chinatown was never Chinatown, it was a group of distinct populations – Chinese, Japanese, later Vietnamese, Korean, even later Ethiopian, Sudanese, Somali, Pakistan . . . you could call it immigrant-ville, I suppose, if you were really, really politically incorrect. My Chinese friends still call it Chinatown.
Last, but not least, Jamie Ford started this book as a short story at a camp run by Orson Scott Card, one of my favorite authors, especially to recommend to young people. Orson Scott Card knows how to capture the painful contradictions of being teens and young adults, the conflicts with parents, the loves, requited and un, and most of all, he understands how the young see things clearly as unfair; it’s only later when we start seeing shades of grey.
In spite of all those positives, I hated his voice. I hated the smug little Chinese boy he started as, a scholarship student, first generation born in the US, mocking his parents, fighting off bullies. . . Here is what I hated the most. He had a girlfriend, and he didn’t understand chivalry, like walking her home. He protected her, but he was a pretty self-absorbed little boy.
I kept reading because he had some interesting friends. I liked his friend the jazz player, and I liked the gruff lunchroom lady, and I liked his friend Keiko. I understood his parents pushing him to excel, and their not understanding the struggles this caused Henry; I liked his parents. Because the book jumps around in time, I also liked his wife, and felt annoyed that Henry was all caught up in this old romance when he had a perfectly good wife, but I kept reading.
I am so glad I did. About a third into the book, we begin to see Henry transform into the man he will become. He gets help, he gets mentoring from unexpected people, and he becomes more likable.
The book also deals with a terrible time in US history, a time when we turned on our own citizens and sent our citizens of Japanese descent to concentration camps right here in the USA. The Japanese were a class act; most of them were hurt and outraged, but compliant. Many men volunteered to fight in the war in spite of this slap in the face, this accusation of potential treason. It is a shameful time in our own history, and particularly so for Henry, who loves a Japanese girl, Keiko.
By the end, I loved this book. I hope you will, too.
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.
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