Sorry Jesus, I’m Packing Boxes
Our priest in the Anglican congregation is a truly inspired preacher. He knows how to get your attention, and then he tells you something really important.
Yesterday (Yes! I was listening!) he was talking about the importance in our spiritual life of community. While, in Christianity, we have a tradition of worshiping privately and in solitude, one of the things Jesus said over and over was to take care of one another, “feed my sheep”, that we are to be known to the outside world by the way we love one another, and the practice of that kind of brotherly love must be done in community. He gave one example, marriage, as an opportunity to show God how much you love him by loving and taking good care of your spouse, that we are to serve him by loving one another.
Pastor Andy gave the example of the Alcoholics Anonymous community, where they have buddies who can be called any time, night or day, when a crisis comes up and there is temptation to drink. He was saying we all need someone we know we can count on, and encouraged us to find spiritual buddies.
On the way out the door, I heard him ask the guy in front of me if he had plans for lunch. When we shook hands, he asked me the same question, and I laughed and said “Yes, I am packing boxes.”
As I was on my way home, it was like that old light bulb went on in my head and I thought “Oh no! That was a test!” Andy was just telling us we need to be part of a fellowship, we need to visit with one another in relaxed conditions, we need to know one another so we know who we can count on! It was as if Jesus invited me to lunch, and I said ‘Sorry, I have to pack boxes!’
I FLUNKED!
So I started beating myself up (in my mind) about flunking. The good thing is, as you pack boxes, it’s kind of like exercise, once you have two or three done, good endorphins kick in and you feel better about things. Eating lunch helps, too.
Andy Thompson, at the Anglican Church – St. Paul’s Kuwait – is smart, committed and hard working, and also a lot of fun. This post is for you, Andy, to show you that your sermons really do make a difference, even if you don’t see it, and that we take what you say home with us, and mull it over, and, hopefully, like a tiny seed planted, if we nurture it, it will bear fruit. 🙂
Eliot Pattison: Prayer of the Dragon
As you can see, I am into some serious reading. Not heavy reading, but books like carrots – I am the donkey, plodding way, packing my boxes, sorting, weeding, throwing out – it is time consuming, and it is pitiless work. I need the promise of a great excape at the end of my day to keep me going.
Prayer of the Dragon was a GREAT carrot. I like all of Eliot Pattison’s Inspector Shan Tao Yun series, set in Tibet. In his very first book, we meet Shan as he is still in the Tibetan prison camp, imprisoned for exposing corrupt officials in China. He learns a huge appreciation, in prison, for a different way of thinking, and his treasured companions become the Bhuddist monks with whom he is imprisoned. If you want to read this series, you can read any book as a stand-alone, but it helps to read them in order, starting with The Skull Mantra. The Chinese eventually free Shan; they find him useful – as long as he is not exposing corruption in the Chinese bureaucracy. He is free on parole; he lives with the sword over his head. At any time, if he crosses an important person, he can be sent back to the merciless gulag.
In The Prayer of the Dragon Inspector Shan finds himself involved in a series of murders on the mountainside, in a small mining village. The village headman has a great scam going, skimming the miners take, charging passage on the mountain trails, and keeping his village hidden from the Chinese bureaucracy.
Here is what I learned that surprised me. There appears to be a connection between the American Navaho nation and the native Tibetans. They share some body-prototype similarities, and they share many symbols and earliest legends. An first-nation Navaho and his niece are exploring similarities, and commonalities, when two members of their party are murdered while sleeping. The Navaho is charged, by the headman, with the death, because he survived although he is covered in blood. It doesn’t make sense, but it doesn’t have to. The headman needs a scapegoat, and he chooses the Navaho.
It is a fascinating read. Here is an excerpt from a conversation Inspector Shan has with the local director of Public Security:
“I know your type so well, Shan, ” Bing said. “God, how well I know you. I was responsible for ten barracks of prisoners, like you – pathetic, morose creatures with no vision, only bitterness about the past. They would sit in reeducation classes and copy out slogans from the little red books like robots, praising the Chairman, reading aloud apologies printed in other books, using someone else’s words. Never a one among them with the balls to stand up and say Fuck the Chairman, screw the Party secretaries, and screw the limo drivers who brought them to town.”
“I tried at first,” Shan replied in a weary voice. “They sent me to a special hospital for the criminally insane.”
“Unfortunately,” Bing said soberly, “you are the sanest person I have ever met.”
AdventureMan knows I love these books. “Do you want to go to Tibet?” he asks me, and I say “No, if I went I would want to hang around with Inspector Shan and his gang of monks, not do tourist things allowed by the Chinese.” These are great reads, Pattison is doing a great job of bringing the plight of the Tibetans to the conscience of his readers, depicting, in graphic, horrorific detail how the Chinese are systematically crushing and obliterating every shred of Tibetan culture, while claiming they are not. I think one of the very worst things they have done is taking over the Tibetan monastery system and corrupting it into something it was never meant to be, a cruel, ugly deformity.
I can hardly wait for the next book to come out. I am on the waiting list for The Lord of Death, yet another book about Chinese bureaucratic corruption and the adventures Inspector Shan has in Tibet confronting and evading all its manifestations.
Light Haze Sunrise
At six in the morning, it is already almost 90°F / 32°C. WeatherUnderground says there is a “light haze.” I can’t imagine what they call a heavy haze. At least the light haze is white, not the orange of yesterday’s sandstorm, but there is still an awful lot of the “light haze.”
Hamd’allah, I have air conditioning. I feel human again. The Alaska girl in me has it turned up to 72°F / 22°C, and I am comfortable.
It took me a long time to capture a glimpse of the sun, early this morning, through the “light haze.” Even as I write, the sun is a great big hazy ball, high in the May sky, oh-so-early on a Friday morning.
I happened to be up early this morning, and was shocked to see busses arriving and laborers – Moslem laborers, like from Pakistan and Afghanistan, getting off buses, carrying shovels and picks and tools to go to work. I thought all Moslems in Kuwait got to take Friday off. Guess I was wrong – and I so often am.
Have a sweet, quiet day, Kuwait. We will be praying for you, in our little church, and for your leadership and your upcoming election, this Friday morning. We wish you only the very best.
Real Time Sandstorm
I’m in my living room, currently the only air conditioned room in the house, the other area A/C is broken, and even in the living room, things are hotting up. Packing boxes, suddenly the light dims and I look outside.
Oh thank God! You might think that is a strange reaction, but when I am packing, any distraction will do. And the light is fantastic! Who knows when I will see another sandstorm rolling in like this? I shoot lots of shots, then scoot off the balcony because it is heading right for me.
I won’t show you what it looks like now. You know what orange looks like. It is totally a bright ochre orange outside. The shoreline is visible, but dimly. The street lights have come on and the smarter drivers have their headlights on. Just in time for drive-time home – be careful out there, Kuwait!
Sanitary Germans
After all my years living in so many different places, I’m fairly blase about toilets. In Tunisia, there were no such thing as public toilets, and while exploring Tunisia, we always had to look for “the potty in the wadi”, i.e. a bridge with no-one in sight. I would run, pee as quickly as I could, and finish just before some curious child – or children – showed up. No matter how remote the place, I can’t remember a single stop that a child didn’t come running about sixty seconds after we stopped.
So I got a big smile at the public toilet in Germany – they started installing these about 20 years ago – that even cleans itself. I thought “I wonder how long these would last in Kuwait?” where they could put people our of jobs.
Yesterday, I used a public toilet in a very nice mall in Kuwait, but when I got there, a woman – I am guessing the “cleaner”, and I put it in quotes for a reason, was stretched out and sleeping. I looked in several stalls, no toilet paper, no problem, I carry my own. It didn’t seem all that clean, no paper for drying hands, either, and as I am leaving she holds out her hand and asks how I am, how is my health, etc. I usually tip – but I didn’t tip yesterday, why tip someone who is not doing the work she is paid to do? She didn’t even stand up, just held up her hand!
Neuleiningen Castle and the BurgSchanke
For many many years, we have been going back to the BurgSchanke in Neuleiningen. We would see the ruins of the old castle, high on a hill, as we would be driving by on Autobahn A6 between the Heidelberg area and France. When AdventureMan got his company command (it was a big deal) I saved up my money and treated him to dinner at the BurgSchanke.
This is where we sat:
The menu doesn’t change much. Most of these entrees were the same ones on the menu many many years ago:
Here is what AdventureMan likes to have – Franzosiche Entenbrust, or French Duck Breast (I think the French part is all the vegetables)
I don’t eat meat very often, but when I do – this is what I had – the Knoblouchsteak (garlic steak)
It used to be served on a wooden platter. I am guessing that health and sanitation standards now require porcelain or something less porous and prone to bacteria than wood.
And here is what we had for dessert. We totally hate the presentation, but it never fails to make us laugh, long and loud, and in spite of how it looks, the mousse is truly delicious.
We talked about all the years we had been coming to this restaurant, all the guests and friends we had brought with us, where we had been sitting with different people – including, more than once, my parents, coming back for their own sentimental journey. Ahhh . . . sweet memories. 🙂
One time, my youngest sister and her family came for a visit, and their son also tried the duck, and thoroughly enjoyed it. His father ordered the Eisbecher Burg Neuleiningen, and we didn’t tell him . . . we waited to see his face when they brought him a bowl the size of a punch bowl, filled with fifty scoops of ice-cream. 🙂 Oh, what fun!
We stayed in a truly darling hotel, and felt very lucky to get the last room. “Two hours ago, we had four vacancies,” the very nice manager said, “but now, we have just one!” In a heartbeat, we took it. The view from the Burggraf was amazing.
KTAA Exhibit Opens Tonight at Dar Al Cid
Thanks to my friends in the Kuwait Textile Arts Association for passing this along:
Breakfast in Schwetzingen
German breakfasts are anything but light. There wasn’t a piece of fruit to be found! We were lucky to be guests at the hotel, because most of the tables were reserved, and people were turned away, even at nine in the morning, the breakfasts at the hotel Cafe Journal are so good.
You could have smoked ham, cold cuts and cheese, too, but we chose not.
Breakfast bread basket:
Yummy condiments:
Fresh orange juice:
Herb and cheese omelettes:
We were astonished – in Germany and in France – that there is absolutely NO SMOKING in any of the restaurants. If you are sitting outside, you can smoke, but we could not believe how well enforced this law is. We had heard about it, but frankly – the French not smoke in restaurants? We would not have believed it possible! Germans are very law-obeying peoples, but the French??? Never, not once, did we see a person smoking in a restaurant. It was amazing.
Sunrise Tuesday, May 13, 2009
Every sunrise now is poignant – I will not have this kind of view in Doha. I will have palm trees, and sometimes parrots and / or parakeets who migrate through and love the date palms. I will have a yard, and two colored bougainvillea, and pots of home grown basil. I will have a neighborhood where I can walk freely, all by myself and never worry about being harassed, and a pool where women gather and joke around while doing water aerobics. But oh, I will miss these glorious Gulf sunrises!
Living our Religion
Today’s reflection from Forward Day by Day is a tough one. In the Gulf, there is a tradition of thfadl and thfadli (the second is what you say to a woman) which means, literally, “you are to be preferred.” You are supposed to outwait the other, to allow the other to take precedence.
I have one Kuwaiti friend – you know who you are – who simply cannot be out-thfadle-d. She out-thfadle-s me every time. 🙂
But when I read this passage, and think of how I live in Kuwait, I find myself thinking “Guilty! Guilty as charged!”
When I see a long line in front of me at the health department, and someone comes and ushers me to the front, yes, I have gratefully taken advantage, taken preference over those who continue to wait. I have scowled when people try to shove their basket in front of me in the supermarket. And in traffic – when I “thfadl”, it has nothing to do with politeness and preference, and everything to do with sarcasm and frustration.
Today’s reading reminds me I still have a long road in front of me when it comes to learning to love my neighbor, and put others first.
Romans 12:1-21. Outdo one another in showing honor.
The Episcopal Church (and some other denominations, too) is vexed these days by rancorous disputes about authority and sex. Name-calling, smirking, and thinly veiled anger sometimes characterize church gatherings. The prevailing sentiment seems to be that we ourselves are faithful and true, but those others are faithless and false. We demean and dismiss other Christians. It’s hard to find a Christian today who outdoes others in showing honor (except honor shown to those lined up on one’s own side). Is it any wonder that many people outside the church want nothing to do with us?
I long for the day when we will approach those who differ from us and say: “I agree with almost nothing you are advocating. I see God, the world, and our faith through different lenses than you do. But I know that God loves us both and has sent his Son to forgive and redeem us both. I know that Christ lives within us both. Therefore I honor you and join you in prayer and in worshiping our common Lord. I shall remain silent today so that you may speak and I may learn from you. I thank God for you because I see Jesus when I look at you.”
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