Anya Seaton and Avalon
Avalon, by Anya Seaton, is an amazing book, a book I almost didn’t read, but once I picked it up, I could hardly stop reading until I had reached the end. It took me to a whole new world.
It opens in England, around the turn of the first millenium, when people had names like Aethelred and Aelfrhryth which is enough to make me NOT want to read the book. But I read another book by Anya Seaton, Katherine, and I really liked it. It, too, took place in very early English history, and had such an authentic feel. It wasn’t like you pick up the book and all the lords and ladies are in gorgeous clothes, Seaton captures the primitive life many lived in “castles”, freezing cold most of the winter, no plumbing – many of the poorest laborers in Kuwait live better, in terms of food, a roof over their head, toilet facilities – that these early nobles. And the life of villagers was even more basic, a true scrabble for survival, and under filthy conditions, not a lot of time of opportunity for bathing, so people had quite an odor most of the time.
Avalon begins with a chance meeting of a young man and a young woman, a tragedy, and a journey. Their story, as first one love and the other doesn’t, then the other does and misses the opportunity – takes us from the southernmost part of England to Iceland, to Ireland, to Greenland and to the new world, all in the space of these two intertwined lives. They never marry, and yet the book, and their relationship, is a romance.
As you can see, once I got into the book, I couldn’t put it down until the last page. These people are so real, so genuine and so human – and Seaton makes you care about them. She manages to throw in enough detail that I could almost swear I visited these places – a thousand years ago. I have spun wool to buy necessities for our sod house in Iceland, I have embroidered tapestries in the Bower of my husband’s castle, I have sent my son off to settle with his Irish bride in the new world – yes, I think I have done.
The political situation in England at this time is chaotic, with Vikings raiding their coastal cities, and deep up the rivers into the interior, feuding over who will wear the crown, and problems with the capabilities of rulers to rule. There is a constant friction between the church and state, for land, for power, for wealth. The majority of the novel takes place during the reign of – I am not kidding – Ethelred the Unready.
At the very end, I found to my astonishment, that this book also concerned the ramifications of a big lie, just as my previous book reviewed. This is a total co-incidence, something that surprised me, and this book ends in a totally different way, as the main character comes to grips with her deception, owns up to it, willing to suffer the consequences.
Is this what I want? Merwyn thought, and at once came the answer. Yes, it is. There would be boring days ahead, but never again the depressions and miseries of before . . . She felt cleansed, peaceful, and there was much gratitude. . .
That totally cracked me up, but this is a romance of a different nature, a very real romance, with the real kinds of choices that real-life romances entail, and the real life consequences. The hand of God is a major player here, and the beliefs of the characters shape events in a way consistent with the times. Dreams are taken very seriously, and the power of curses, and sorceries, which I never give two thoughts in my daily life in the 21st century.
The main characters have their own nobility, based on their choices, their growth, and their coming to terms with their lives and situations. I learned a lot reading Avalon, and I also had a great time while learning.
All in all, a fascinating read.
Tire Killer DeFanged
My husband is willing to bet that too many people ignored the sign and then got mad at the Holiday Inn when their tires shredded! The teeth are gone, but the sign remains:
Rude Awakening
In the wee small hours of the morning, my husband and I had a rude awakening. While we were sound asleep, the Qatteri Cat figured out how to open the front door and walk out. Awakening and seeing light, my husband jumped out of bed, and yelled “Qatteri Cat is gone!” but as he wasn’t wearing much, he couldn’t go look for QC. Sheer panic. We know the QC would not last long on the mean streets of Kuwait.
I’m paranoid about sleeping in nothing much, like what if there is a fire or something? So I am wearing a little more, not much more, but enough that I can go look for QC, but as soon as he hears us exclaiming, he comes back in, like “hey! glad to see you up! Did you notice my food dish is empty?”
And it was empty. I have noticed if I can remember to feed him before we go to bed, we have fewer howlings in the middle of the night, fewer jumping at the door handle. Hunger makes him wakeful and energetic. And we normally lock the front door, but when we came in last night we were both carrying packages and I must have gotten distracted, I am usually the obsessive-compulsive one about making sure the door is locked.
And the Qatteri Cat? After all the commotion, he is sleeping in this morning, while I am walking around bleary and tired. But he is so sweet when he is sleeping.
The Old American Hospital
I discovered the beautiful building we park in front of when we got to church is the Old American Hospital. I don’t know what it is used for now, but it has been beautifully renovated.
From Kuwait Toplist Places of Interest.
Old American Hospital:
Located on the left side of the gulf street facing the bay, stands the old American Hospital. This was the first hospital run by the Christian Missionaries. An architecture from the early part of the 20th. century.
Emergency Service in Kuwait
I had an emergency. Now YOU may not consider it an emergency, but I have a piece of equipment, and I have a major project and a deadline, and to meet that deadline, I need that piece of equipment. And, of course, that piece of equipment began to fail me.
Not to worry. I had heard of a place in Kuwait that could fix my machine. I had that pit in the stomach feeling, like “why didn’t I do some homework and find this place before my machine needed fixing. . . ” Do you ever say things like that to yourself?
And of course, because I was desperate, when I would go into stores and ask if they knew where this place was, I was told, over and over, there was no such place.
Until one brave young Pakistani guy contradicted his employer and told me where he thought the place might be. Because of one way streets, and a convoluted traffic pattern, it took me several more passes before I spotted the place – which fortunately had one very small sign in English, as I can’t read Arabic very quickly, I still have to sound out all the letters until it sounds like a word I know. Like I am really good at “sharia” being street, but not very good at things I don’t see all the time.
And, by the grace of God, not only do I see the store, but there is – and this is truly a miracle – a decent parking spot fairly close to the shop. Thanks be to God.
I went into the shop, and there is another woman there, with her machine. I tell the man behind the counter that I have a small emergency. He doesn’t understand me, but he understands my tone, and sends a man to help bring in my machine.
It’s like the stand-off at the OK Corral. She looks at my machine, evaluating whether her’s is better, or mine. Seconds tick by, and she smiles, and the crisis is averted. She tells the man she will be back for her machine, which he sets aside to take a look at mine.
My machine is one of those simple machines, you are supposed to be able to do almost everything yourself. He does everything I have already done, and sits back, stumped. We both know what the problem is, and I know he can’t fix it. He calls a friend. He orders tea. We sit and talk as customers come in and out, checking on their machines, asking prices on new machines. We are speaking in Arabic, a language we both speak badly, so conversation often lulls. I’m not sure his friend is coming.
Finally, I pack up my machine, and of course, as soon as I get ready to leave, the friend arrives, and we need to unpack it again. Ten minutes, and my machine is good as new. He tells me what the replacement part would cost in Kuwait (if he hadn’t been able to fix it) and I gasp in horror – I will have to look for a replacement part this summer, back in the US, because I have checked online and yes, they are expensive, but cost about the same in dollars as it would in KD – i.e. $49 vs KD 40. Aaarrgh.
I’ve spent two hours sitting and drinking tea in a shop that is sort of air conditioned, but the door was always open. I am hot, and sweaty, but my machine is fixed, at least enough that I can work on my project.
This is not the way it would happen in the United States. In the United States, I might get some sympathy, but I would not get same day service. I would have to leave my machine, I would have to be served in order, and I would not get my machine back until it were fixed, if it were fixed – people are not so good at fixing old things in the United States, you have to be really lucky. Mostly, when machines break, you buy a new one.
So I am feeling really lucky, really lucky, really blessed, to have had my machine emergency in Kuwait, where things are done differently, and my machine could be fixed on am emergency basis, while I waited.
P.S. The man who fixed my machine earns KD 80 a month – $280 for my US readers.
Hats off to Saudi Women
Last week in the May 10th Kuwait Times, Dr. Sami Alrabaa wrote a fascinating article on Saudi Women, Saudi Arabia and some shifts in press coverage in Saudi Arabia.
This is how the article starts:
Anti-Woman Culture
More and more Saudi women are speaking out against preachers in their country. Fatma Al-Faqih, a columnist at the daily Saudi Al-Watan accuses preachers (April 17) of “denigrating women” and “inciting discrimination against women.” “Day in day out, our preachers flood us with accusations against women and beg men to defend the virtues of society that women corrupt,” Al-Faqih writes. This “anti-woman culture”, Al-Faqih continues, causes women to feel mentally and psychologically inferior, “like a quarrelsome child who must be constantly supervised, intimidated, and punished into performing her duties.”
It is also unprecedented that the Saudi print media are allowing women to air their indignation and frustration. Al-Faqih also writes, “Women are good Muslims as men are. But our preachers insist on producing a distorted picture of women, which has nothing to do with true Islam. The Prophet Mohammed (PBUH) never discriminated against women. He respected them. He valued their opinions and occasionally sought their advice. He treated them as full-fledged human beings. Our preachers however, depict women as spoilt minors who have got to be constantly instructed to behave themselves. They cannot be trusted.”
Al-Faqih also wonders, “Where is it written in the holy Quran and Hadeeth that women are not allowed to drive their own cars? Where is it stated that women are forbidden to travel alone, leave their houses, or travel alone with the family’s chauffeur? Where is it stated that women are forbidden to have a passport without permission from their male closest relatives, forbidden to go to school or university without permission, forbidden to take a job without permission, forbidden to open a bank account without permission, forbidden to name their own children without their men’s approval?”
Further, Al-Faqih complains, “Where is that divine law which does not allow women to sue their husbands for divorce? Where is it written that women’s voice is a sexual organ and hence she is not allowed to speak in public and express her concerns? Where is that sacred law that does not allow women to keep their own children after divorce? Where is it written in Islam that women are not allowed to vote or run for office?”
Al-Faqih concludes, “Are we in Saudi Arabia a special brand of Muslims? In other Muslim countries, women have become presidents (in Bangladesh for example), prime ministers (in Turkey and Pakistan), ministers in Egypt, Syria, Morocco, Kuwait and other Arab countries. In all Muslim countries, women have the right to vote and run for office. No, we are not a special brand of Muslims. It is our preachers who interpret Islam their own way.”
You can read the rest of the article by clicking HERE.
My comment: When I lived in Saudi Arabia, my eyes were opened. My Saudi Arabian women friends were SO smart, and they really knew their Quran. They also knew hadith, and they knew the weight of each hadith, which were strong and which were weak. They didn’t just memorize suura; they thought about them, they discussed them and analyzed them.
Through them, I understoon Islam in a whole new way, and understood the revolutionary thinking of the Prophet, who was kind to women, took council from women, and treated women fairly. In an age when female babies were routinely killed, he stood against the tide of tradition, and forbid the killing of female babies, and insisted on rights of inheiritance for females (and this in the 7th century).
And no one found it more ironic than the Saudi women that Saudi Arabia has become a worldwide symbol for repression of female rights. My Saudi sisters claim that in the birthplace of Islam, Islam has become distorted, a weapon used against women.
My Saudi women friends often told me I was not required to wear a scarf. My embassy told me the same thing, that it was a voluntary sign of submission to Islam. The embassy also told me to carry a scarf, and if accosted by the mutawa,(religious police, the “The Committee for the Promotion of Virtue and the Defense Against Vice” or something like that) to put it on until he was out of view, and then to take it off again, that the scarf was not mandatory. The mutawa felt differently, and would boom out in loud, offended voices: “MADAME, COVER YOUR HAIR!”
I would comply. But the unfairness never failed to rouse my ire. Excuse me? My hair might cause YOU to have a lustful thought? You control YOURSELF and your thoughts, and let ME worry about my morality.
So my scarf – errr hat – is off to these Saudi women who have the bravery to write these well thought out position papers to the Saudi papers.
The interesting thing to me is that the Saudi press is printing the women’s complaints now. . . perhaps, insh’allah, some changes are in the air.
And a muse – So when a Saudi woman comes to Kuwait, for example, or to France – is she allowed to drive? We know it is illegal for her to drive in Saudi Arabia, but is it also immoral for her to drive in Saudi Arabia? Or is it immoral for her to drive anywhere? So like is it immoral for all us women to be driving anywhere?
Kuwait Times?
I heard today – on Global Voices Online: Kuwait that the Minister of Information has rescinded the restrictions on publications.
Either my Kuwait Times was stolen this morning, or it never came. I have tried to reach the Kuwait Times online, but get only blanks. Is there something going on?
Tang Chow in Kuwait
I grew up eating Chinese food. When we would visit my father’s large family of sisters, cousins, aunts and uncles, one of my favorite memories is going to Chinatown, (now called International District by the politically correct, although the Chinese still call it Chinatown) for Chinese food.
Everyone got an eggroll. And every person, even kids, ordered one dish, and then the dishes would get passed along a table of twenty something people. Of course, as kids, there was always some cousin who, being funny, would order something gross, like octopus, or shark or something that seemed very strange, but we would all take a bite.
One of our favorite recent memories was being in Seattle on Christmas Eve Day, and getting a call from a good friend asking if we were busy. It just happened that we had everything done, and we could spare time to get together with these very good friends. She is Chinese. She took us down to China Town, to a place we would not have even recognized as a restaurant. We were seated in the back room. I asked her if we were in the back room because we were the only non-Chinese there, and she said no, just wait, and within minutes, the back room was also full. The dim sum cart would come around and my friend would tell them what we wanted – we trusted her to know what was good or not so good. It was a wonderful day, and a great memory with some very special friends.
So I was so delighted to see so many Chinese restaurants when I came to Kuwait. The only problem is, most of them are so dumbed-down that you can barely recognize the food as Chinese. We have tried many, and come away mildly unsatisfied. That is, until we tried Tang Chow.
Tang Chow isn’t cheap. We often groan when the bill comes, and figure it’s just the price you pay for food you really like, and in a hotel (it’s in the Holiday Inn on Gulf Road in Salmiyya.) But we never have any complaint about the food. The food, and the food preparation, is excellent.
My all time favorite is the Peking Duck. I love the little tiny pancakes, the slivered green onions and the hoisin sauce. My husband gravitates towards the prawns with black bean sauce, which is also a little gingery. We both love the Hot and Sour soup, although the Seafood Soup is also very good. There is a mixed appetizer you can order with bites of dim-sum, also very good. Actually, we have never left there unhappy. And we always order too much, so we have a bag of leftovers to enjoy again. My husband says when you think of what you pay covering two or three meals, then it cost averages out pretty well. 😉
They have taken classic, even trite Chinese decorations and used them in new ways – those little red Chinese lanterns blown up to giant size and hung in a high-ceilinged room have a totally new look. The little beaded lamps which could be so tacky look surprisingly elegant when grouped together, five or six times normal size.
We also enjoy the luxury of space, and privacy, and spare elegance at Tang Chow, being able to have conversations without others nearby listening in, being able to entertain friends without the curious eyes of others prying into our business. Tang Chow provides all that. We also like the easy parking, and the open kitchen, where you can watch meals being prepared.
If you have other recommendations for Chinese restaurants, we would love to hear them!
Fish on Friday
Early on Friday morning in Kuwait, the water is still and flat as glass. The only people awake, it seems to me, are me and the fisherman.
Even at 7 in the morning, the temperatures are hot, although the air is dry.
Bo9agr’s Kuwait Accident Photos
This is for my non-Kuwaiti friends, who don’t believe me when I tell them about the wrecks along the side of the road, new ones every day, in Kuwait.
This blogger, Bo9agr has taken to documenting the wrecks he sees. You would think it is funny, but it is only funny because it is so so awful. You can view his collection at Kuwait accident photos.
What a waste – especially the young lives taken or damaged in this wreckage.
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