Taboulah Check
I just spent a hilarious half hour catching up on a week’s worth of ICHC. It feels so good to laugh like that! So many clever people and so many hilarious photos.
This one reminds me of my family – we all love tabouli, and we all do the teeth-check at the end of the meal so we won’t embarrass ourselves.
moar funny pictures
Big Bubbas
I found my way to my seat, and looked around hopefully to see how full the plane was getting. Sometimes, this flight has some empty seats, and I am hoping one of them is next to me so I can sleep, get to Kuwait a little refreshed.
Two seats up, two very large men are looking at one another in dismay. I can hardly keep from laughing out loud – these are big, beefy American contractors, look like boys from the mid-West, one in farmer-like denim coveralls, both with big bottoms, big bellies, and huge big beefy shoulders. These kinds of guys spill way over the armrests, if you know what I mean.
“This isn’t gonna work,” says one to the other. They look around. One spots me, and says “Once the flight takes off, I’ll find a place to sit with a little more room.”
Ya’ll think I am really nice, but not so nice when it comes to having my territory invaded. I fluffed myself out to try to look bigger, and I scowled a very very UNFRIENDLY scowl. I would not want to sit next to someone who looked mean and unsociable like me!
Fortunately there was a lot of room on the flight, and the bubbas found places where they could be comfortable. I had an extra seat next to me, too, and got the sleep I needed. I no longer needed to scowl.
I still get a big grin though, thinking of the look on their faces when they thought of trying to fit those two great big bulky bodies into the already skimpy spaces allotted for two people.
Christmas / Eid Blessings
My friends, I wish you all the happiest, happiest celebrations. I wish you all the blessings of family, and friends, and enough food to eat and a roof over your head. I wish you quiet joy, and peace. Peace be upon you, brothers and sisters, and may your celebrations bring you joy.
AdventureMan and I will also be taking a break for a week to celebrate Christmas and to renew our spirits. I’ll be out of touch for about a week. God be with you!
Adoration of the Shepherds and Adoration of the Magi
1500-20
Oil on oak panel, 91 x 59 cm (each)
Groeninge Museum, Bruges
Christmas in Kuwait
There are Christmas trees in Kuwait, in the malls, in the stores, and Santa and his reindeer are everywhere. I can remember other Christmases – in Saudi Arabia, in Jordan, in Tunisia, in Qatar – when you never knew if this was a year when Christmas would be allowed or not.
For my family and friends not in Kuwait, you would be amazed what you can find here. I am just showing a tiny bit of what you can find these days in Kuwait:
Fashion Nightmare
One of the classic worst nightmares you can have is where you dream you have shown up somewhere naked. No, I didn’t show up naked. But I can tell you that it was the next best thing, and there was nothing I could do. And I survived it, and I never had that bad dream again.
The priest in our church had asked me if I would take a visiting nun around to show her some of the local spots in Qatar. She was doing work in Afghanistan, getting schools up and running for Afghani girls, and I was eager to hear about her work, and show her some projects in Doha. I had gladly agreed, and had a plan outlined for all the places I could take her.
When I arrived at the church house, wearing my rattiest jeans skirt and cover-up shirt, so as to be inconspicuous as we visited various places in the poorer sections of town, the priest came out and said the nun would be out in a minute, and why didn’t I come in, that there had been a “slight” change in plans and that another woman would be coming too, and she was taking us to a Palestinian project.
I don’t hold it against the priest. He lived in another world, a world so full of God and his glory that he didn’t really have any understanding of the world of women.
The other woman arrived, and she was gorgeous. She was wearing Issa Miyake, she was perfectly and subtly made up, and we were not going to a charitable project, but to a charitable fund-raising breakfast. I had thoughts of killing the priest.
The nun arrived, and she was dressed in a decent pants and shirt; neither of us appropriately dressed but off we go, to a clubhouse filled with dressed-to-the-teeth women and their daughters, raising money for popular causes on a Saturday morning. We were severely underdressed. All we could do was hold our heads high and pretend we didn’t notice. Inside, I was torn between laughing and crying.
Our hostess didn’t seem to see the fact that we were poorly dressed, and was very gracious to us, and in future days, the two of us became good friends. We often laughed about the priest, his goodness of heart and his blindness to some of life’s realities, like giving fair warning of what you are doing so you can dress appropriately. It all turned out OK.
When people come to me and tell me something terribly, horribly and publicly embarrassing that has happened to them, and ask me how they will survive, I tell them what I believe to be true – that most people are so absorbed in their own lives that they barely notice much about others, and that people have short memories. What may seem to be a huge deal today, will be yesterday’s news by tomorrow, and barely remembered in a couple months. By the time a year has gone by, some people will even think it might have been someone else who committed the faux pas.
On the other hand, in the small German village where I lived, there were two families who never mixed because their grandmothers had a huge fight many many years ago (people can’t remember exactly what it was about) but the legacy lives on.
So I wonder, how does it work in Kuwait?
The Little Princess
My maid/housekeeper was away, back in her own country, and her substitute can clean, but is hopeless with entertaining. I have about 25 guests coming, good people, and I am not too worried, but I am a little behind schedule pretty much the entire event, as I try to greet guests and make them welcome, get the food out, keep the food coming, keep the coffee and tea ready and and and . . . you get the idea.
As the event neared to a close, one of my friends, the little Princess, is right by my side, clearing dishes, rinsing, bringing things from the salon to the kitchen – and this is a woman we all kid, we call her the little Princess because her husband adores her, and she never has to lift a finger.
“You don’t have to do this!” I exclaim, knowing once the last guest is gone, I can take my time, and it will all get done.
“”But you look so tired!” she exclaims in return.
I am puzzled. I don’t feel tired.
“I don’t FEEL tired,” I respond, and she says “But you have no lipstick, and your hair is all tangled . . .” and I realize to my utter horror that in my focus on getting everything ready for my guests, I forgot to put on any makeup, or to do my hair. I FORGOT!
I am still laughing at myself, partly in HORROR. How could I forget to comb my hair???
Kuwait Camels
When we used to drive around Qatar, we would see camels out roaming everywhere. I imagine it used to be that way in Kuwait, too, until the Gulf War, when the retreating Iraqis seeded the deserts with explosive devices. Even now, every month a shepherd or two loses a limb to an unexploded piece of ordnance in the desert. We don’t just jump in the car and go out exploring here – sadly, it’s not safe, or it’s only safe when you are with people who know where it is safe and where it isn’t. We have friends who tell us, with a sigh, about the beautiful places they would go to see the wildflowers, but no more.
Now and then we will see a camel in a large, empty nearby plot of land, under the sparse trees, sometimes a mother with a baby. Most of the time, I only see camels when I go to shop at the Sultan Center in Al Kout. There is also a very large fresh vegetable, chicken/egg, meat and fish market there, and when I see these unsuspecting and unconcerned camels in the back of a truck, I have a bad feeling that they are destined for the meat market.
Mom’s Rosemary Tree
One of my philosophies – no, no, don’t run away, this isn’t all that deep – is that things have a way of working out. No matter how too horrible everything can get, things work out, this passes, and in today’s hurried, bustling, transitory world, even the worst events fall into oblivion much of the time.
Mom phoned with a request – Lowe’s was having a sale on Rosemary trees, only $8.97, could we get one for her? She likes to have a sweet smelling Rosemary tree outside on her balcony. We went to Lowe’s immediately, first thing in the morning, and . . . they were already gone! There were more expensive ones – like double the price – but all the on-sale ones were already gone. Honestly, there must not have been very many to start with.
(You are probably asking why I didn’t just go ahead and buy it for her anyway. It’s not allowed. She gives her daughters envelopes of money and when we buy things for her that she has asked for, we have to pay from out of that envelope, or she won’t ask us anymore; it’s a matter of pride.)
From that day on, I kept an eye out for Rosemary trees (just maybe 16″ high), Home Depot, Fred Meyer, some of the larger local floral shops – nothing, or double what she wanted to pay.
Then, on my very last day in Seattle, I took Mom to Trader Joe’s. We all like Trader Joe’s, who carried foods and candies and cookies and wines that other more conventional grocers don’t carry. Mom needed to stock up for all her Christmas guests and Christmas entertaining. And there – for only $8.64, not even on sale, was the perfect Rosemary tree. It smelled divine. Here it is, safe in Mom’s basket:
Episodes Online
While in the US, my sister informed me that I could go different places and watch episodes of TV shows I like any time I like. Pretty cool. I didn’t have the time while I was back there, but today I wanted to catch up on one show, and this is the message I got:
Only viewers with the United States can watch these full-length episodes.
I believe that is true, and I also believe that . . . there are probably ways around it. So how do I get around it?
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