Outrageous Mortgage “Servicing”
We have had our most recent mortgage with PHH, thanks to AdventureMan’s hard work, and this morning, my husband is on the phone with their bureaucratic, less-than-helpful customer service agent.
I hate them. I know it is a sin. I hate these practices.
AdventureMan sent them a check with more than enough to pay off the mortgage. When we checked the status online, we still owed a small amount. Then we saw that although the check was clearly marked “principal only,” PHH had applied part of it to another monthly payment, and then the rest to the principal. (Sleaze bag practice to prolong payment periods.)
“You cannot pay off the loan with a personal check,” the customer service representative says.
“You sent the check to the wrong address; that address is for principal only,” she says, and you can tell she is reading off a script.
AdventureMan asks to speak to her supervisor. She says that is not possible.
This is just an outrage. Every day they can postpone the final payment, they get interest from us. When we have sent more than enough money to cover the principal and all the escrow payments, we get this brick wall.
Personal check? They’ve already cashed the personal check! They have the money! This is outrageous!
We had to deal with the company once before, with another mortgage. Their practices are disgusting. God willing, we will never have to deal with them again.
Lord of Death by Eliot Pattison
I didn’t know that much about the Chinese obliteration of Tibetan culture in Tibet. I didn’t know about the systematic destruction of the monasteries, or at least not in detail. I didn’t know about the brutal re-education techniques for the Bhuddist monks. I didn’t know how strong and resistant the peoples of Tibet are to the Chinese incursion.
I’ve learned most of what I know reading Eliot Pattison’s series featuring Shan Tao Yun, a Chinese detective. Or he used to be. In the first book, The Skull Mantra, we meet Inspecter Shan Tao Yun in one of those re-education camps, where he has been tortured and mistreated almost to his physical limits, and the Bhuddist monks teach him new ways of thinking, and those ways help him to see things differently – and to survive.
The Tibetans hate the Chinese, but they make an exception for Inspector Shan Tao Yun, who earns the respect of both Tibetans and Chinese for his unwavering integrity, and his ability to solve the most intricate puzzles. As he does, we learn more about different aspects of life today in Tibet.
The Lord of Death introduces us to the evolving mountain climbing industry developing in Tibet, just across the border with Nepal. Western climbers will see themselves in a very new light reading this book, which involves the murder of the visiting Chinese Minister of Tourism, an American female climber, and former members of a clandestine CIA trained group of Tibetans during WWII.
In every volume, I learn something fascinating. In this book, I learned more about the early struggles of the Chinese Cultural revolution, the corruption of Chinese ideals, and more about Tibetan ways of thinking. I cannot wait for the next book to come out. You can visit his website here: Eliot Pattison.com
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. 🙂
EEEEWwWwwwwwwwwww
“Just get on 30 and head North,” my friend told me, and then proceeded to give me further directions. It’s really easy.”
My hands started sweating as soon as she mentioned 30, and I couldn’t even hear the rest of her instructions. I wasn’t ready. Even though I had driven in Qatar for three years, when I arrived in Kuwait, it was a whole new level of driving madness. My first trips were Saturday mornings to Fehaheel, when everyone else was sleeping. Slowly, slowly I built up my courage, and maybe a month or so later, I got on 30. Later, 40 and within a year, there wasn’t anyplace I couldn’t go.
Starting over, it isn’t taking me so long, but after being gone a year and a half, the aggressiveness of the driving in Kuwait is still a bit daunting. This morning, Friday morning, I did get on 30 and drove into Salwa to go to church.
EEEEEEWWWwwwwwwwwww!
How can you live like this???
The stink! The STINK!!
How long has it been? Hasn’t it been almost a year since the sewage plant stopped functioning? Where is the fix?? It must be murder on the beaches, and it is surely hell to have to get up to that STINK every morning.
What is the forecast for fixing this problem?
Good Night, Kuwait
I’ve just had such a great day, and it started off so inauspiciously – no sleep. I was able to grab a little nap this morning, and another hour this afternoon, and in between – time with husband and friends, lots of catching up . . . it’s been a great day.
And, from my rooftop, I even have a view of the sunset, LOL. That is not a real palm tree; that is one of those huge-communication-towers-disguised-as-a-palm-tree.
(Lord have mercy, I have forgotten how SLOW the internet is in Kuwait. Folks, there is a whole world out there where uploads and downloads take mere milliseconds, and some of those countries are a very short airplane ride away. What is it with the slow internet in Kuwait? There isn’t even a broken cable off the coast of Egypt – that I know of – that would make it so slow. The slowness seems to me to be everpresent. Sometimes it is slow, other times it is slower. Aargh.)
FollowUp To Pensacola Christmas Parade
Seen in local Pensacola grocery store:
A Little TSA Humor
Thank you, KitKat 🙂
Insh’allah
When a western-world thinker first goes to live in an Islamic country, the words we love to hate are “bukra” (tomorrow) “badeen” (later) and “insh’allah (God willing), because in the world we are coming from, when you say “tomorrow,” it means that the plumber will be coming tomorrow. In Islamic countries, “tomorrow” or “later” might mean that they don’t want to upset you by telling you that it is unlikely that the plumber will be able to come within the next two weeks.
“Will you have this dress back to me by November 10th?” you ask, because you intend to wear it to the Marine Ball.
“Insh’allah,” they might answer, God willing. They have never seen a dress come back that fast, but God is mighty, and in his power anything is possible.
In today’s Lectionary, James reminds us that “insh’allah” should be our own response to every commitment, and I always find it humbling. We in the West are always so sure, so confident, and as we plan, God just laughs. Or weeps.
James 4:13-5:6
13 Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a town and spend a year there, doing business and making money.’ 14 Yet you do not even know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. 15 Instead you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wishes, we will live and do this or that.’ 16 As it is, you boast in your arrogance; all such boasting is evil. 17 Anyone, then, who knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, commits sin.
5 Come now, you rich people, weep and wail for the miseries that are coming to you. 2 Your riches have rotted, and your clothes are moth-eaten. 3 Your gold and silver have rusted, and their rust will be evidence against you, and it will eat your flesh like fire. You have laid up treasure* for the last days. 4 Listen! The wages of the labourers who mowed your fields, which you kept back by fraud, cry out, and the cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord of hosts. 5 You have lived on the earth in luxury and in pleasure; you have fattened your hearts on a day of slaughter. 6 You have condemned and murdered the righteous one, who does not resist you.
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