Disturbing Change
Late yesterday, I was online on AOL checking my e-mails. I often do, Law and Order Man comes online around that time in Pensacola and we can grab a quick chat.
Only Instant Messaging didn’t show up on my screen. I took care of business, and went on to other things. We don’t chat every day, just when we can.
Today, I noticed again – I don’t have AIM. I have a couple other ways to check in online, so I tried them. No AIM. Finally, I tried iChat, which also logs into AIM. It showed me logged in, it also showed no contacts.
My other AOL entry route didn’t show the Buddy Screen, even when I asked it to repeatedly.
I am hoping this is a little AOL glitch, temporary.
You don’t think Instant Messaging is being blocked in Kuwait, do you?
AIDS and Africa
Listening to BBC yesterday, I learned that in Ghana, men forbid their wives to get HIV testing. If the wife tests positive, it makes public his own shame, carrying HIV, and they don’t want people to know they are infected. They will even resist being treated rather than confess to having HIV.
Recently a Ghanian man divorced his wife for testing positive, even denied he was infected. She states he is the only man she has ever been with. He said she is bringing shame on him, going public.
What tragedy. What folly. Life enhancing, life prolonging drug treatments are available. First, you have to acknowledge you are infected. And, of course, if the women do not get tested, the dreaded disease passes along to the babies.
The newspaper recently published an article that 129 Kuwaitis are HIV positive. I imagine the problems here are similar, that people would prefer it all be kept very private. Is that possible? Is confidentiality respected? Do couples have blood tests before getting married?
Khadra and The Swallows of Kabul
While waiting for our luggage to be offloaded, we were passing time, visiting with our greeter / expediter, asking about his family, his life in Zambia.
“How does this work, travelling with your son and your daughter-in-law?” he asked us. “Do you like her?”
Nothing on earth could disguise the delight on our faces as we both said “Yes!” We truly adore her.
When our son was only seven years old, a Christian speaker passing through said that if you have children, it is likely that their mates have also been born, so to start praying now for the unknown mate your child would choose, and we did.
When our son called us from university, and told us there was someone he wanted us to meet at graduation, and graduation was still months away, we knew, we just knew, that this might be THE ONE.
We were so delighted when we met her, we liked her immediately. What parent isn’t happy to see his/her son/daughter happy, and choosing well?
“But!” our meeter/greeter added, “how do you like her family?”
And we laughed again! We love her family! Her father is smart and very funny, and her mother is kind and practical, and we all share the same values on family and friends and living our lives. She comes from a large rowdy family that gathers when they can, and so do we.
And YOU are thinking “what does all this have to do with The Swallows of Kabul?” but I am getting there.
On the trip, we all had books for our quiet time, and I could see EnviroGirl deeply engrossed in this book. When I asked her, she said she had gotten it from her father’s wife, a woman with whom I often talk books, and that she (EnviroGirl) was trying to finish it so that she could leave it with me.
And thank goodness that she did! I couldn’t put it down!
First, you think it is written by Yasmina Khadra, but that is a pseudonym. The real author, Mohammed Moulessehoul, was Algerian army officer, and he used the pseudonym to avoid having to submit the manuscript for approval by military authorities. That got my attention right away.
The book is about Taleban era Afghanistan, and starts out with utter hopelessness, describing the deterioration in life brought about by the arbitrary imposition of religious rule, as interpreted by men who have memorized the Qur’an, but have a poor understanding of what they have memorized. Women lead a dismal, limited life, at the mercy of men who treat them as detestable if they are seen in public, even totally cloaked.
His language is beautiful, poetic and compelling, even describing despair and desolation.
We meet two couples, Atiq, a jailer, and his wife, Musarrat, who risked her own life to save his life back when he was seriously wounded and left for dead, and Mohsen, former member of a moderately successful merchant family, married to the love of his life, Zunaira, who is beautiful, educated and from a wealthy background. These men love their wives, and have a strong, genuine connection to them. Their ability to maintain that connection, and to stay connected to their own values, withers in the dry, dusty context of fundamentalist rule.
Their lives and relationships have been changing gradually, increasingly limited and undignified under the stress of Taleban rule, and the novel follows a rapid spiral of deterioration and folly. The steady decline of their lives speeds when Mohsen makes a terrible impulsive decision, has to live with the consequences, and confesses to his wife.
Atiq, too, faces dismal consequences. Even though we know he is limited, he becomes a sympathetic character. His hardness of heart covers a genuine grief that his wife is dying, and he can do nothing to stop it, nor to alleviate her pain.
We all face hard times. In our family, when someone lashes out unjustly, we often ask “is it something I have done, or am I just the nearest dog to kick?” It always gets a laugh, and it puts things back in perspective, puts us on the same side. Sometimes we can’t always vent our frustrations against those people or events creating the frustration, so we take it out on those we love – and who love us. It’s not right, it’s not fair or just, but it is very human, and once you get that out on the table, it is easier to discuss the real issue.
When Zunaira ends up in jail, Atiq’s world is shattered as if by an earthquake – the earth moves under his feet, all his understanding of life is shaken.
“As he cleans up, he cautiously lifts his eyes to the roof beam looming over the cell like a bird of evil augury, and his gaze lingers on the anemic little lightbulb, growing steadily dimmer in its ceiling socket. Screwing his courage to the sticking point, he walks back to the lone occupied cell, and there, in the very middle of the cage, the magical vision: the prisoner has removed her burqa! She’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. Her elbows are on her knees, her hands are joined under her chin. She’s praying. Atiq is thunderstruck. Never before has he seen such splendor. With her godess’s profile, her long hair spread across her back, and her enormous eyes, like horizons, the condemned woman is beautiful beyond imagination. She’s like a dawn, gathering brightness in the heart of this poisonour, squalid, fatal dungeon.
Except for his wife’s, Atiq hasn’t seen a woman’s face for many years. He’s even learned to live without such sights. For him, women are only ghosts, voiceless, charmless ghosts that pass practically unnoticed along the streets; flocks of infirm swallows – blue, yellow, often faded, several seasons behind – that make a mournful sound when they come into the proximity of men.
And all at once, a veil falls and a miracle appears. Atiq can’t get over it. A complete, solid woman? A genuine tangible woman’s face, also complete, right here in front of him? He’s been cut off from such a forbidden sight for so long that he believed it had been banished even from people’s imaginations. . . ”
Atiq has a friend, Mirza, who thrives under Taleban rule, as a soldier, and also running illegal businesses highly profitable under the current regime. He encourages Atiq to abandon his cancer-striken wife, to get rid of her and to find a fresh, young wife. He offers Atiq shady business opportunities, and tells him a wise man bends with the wind. Ignorance and chaos benefit Mirza, and he has no wish to see the good old days return.
In spite of the bleakness, the desolation, the crushing arbitrariness and inhumanity, there is hope, love, and compassion in a thin, steady stream throughout the book.
Once I started reading, I had to finish. It was a great book for the long trip back to Kuwait, one I am eager to pass along to the next avid reader.
Even the Dogs
Today’s Gospel reading is one of my very favorites; Jesus was infinitely kind to women.
Here is a desperate woman, shouting for Jesus’ help. She is not a Jew, she is not even one of his followers. She is a mother with a very sick daughter. She will not be put aside. Jesus’ closest followers tell him to “make her go away.” She argues with Jesus, telling him even his smallest crumb of mercy will be enough, and he has mercy on her.
Matthew 15:21-28
21 Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon. 22Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, ‘Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.’ 23 But he did not answer her at all. And his disciples came and urged him, saying, ‘Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.’ 24 He answered, ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.’ 25 But she came and knelt before him, saying, ‘Lord, help me.’ 26 He answered, ‘It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.’ 27 She said, ‘Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.’ 28 Then Jesus answered her, ‘Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.’ And her daughter was healed instantly.
Cormac McCarthy and No Country For Old Men
“Did you get a chance to watch the DVD?” I asked my friend, “because I have the book, and the book is SO much better. You understand so much more.”
“No! No! I started, but I could not watch it,” said my friend, “It was too violent!”
No Country For Old Men was a very violent movie, done by the Coen Brothers. I reviewed it HERE. When we finished watching the movie, I called our son and said “what happened? I’m not sure I understood what happened!” and indeed, there was a lot I missed. My son didn’t tell me anything – he bought me the book. On one of those long Seattle – Amsterdam – Kuwait flights I read it, and at the end – WOW.
My friend hit the nail on the head – the movie was violent, because the book is about violence, about violence in our societies, about increasing violence, violence without conscience, violence with no understanding of suffering of the victims, violence for no purpose, violence with no meaning, no goal, violence, literally, at the flip of a coin.
The movie is an indictment of violence, taking a circumstantial event and building an entire plot around it, a drug trade gone bad. There are a lot of deaths in this movie, most of them just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and tangling with people who have no morals, no scruples, no compass by which they live. Even money matters less to the drug dealers, and their employees, than an arbitrary code that takes tribalism to the limit – us or them.
The main character, a sheriff and grandson of a sheriff, takes on a case that leads him to wonder more and more if his service to his community and fellow human beings is even making a difference. He ponders on the changing character of Texas, of youth, and how we are raising our children. It is thought-provoking and unforgettable.
I understand someone, not the Coens, are currently making a movie of an earlier book I read by Cormac McCarthy, The Road which is another bleak story. There is an elemental relationship between the father and son, the father is all goodness and protection in a world driven to brutality and unimaginable behavior by an apocalyptic event.
In No Country for Old Men there are decent, moral, sweet relationships, faithful marriages, men of honor who serve their fellow-man as law enforcement officers, men who have served their country as soldiers, etc. but the point McCarthy seems to be making is that the decent people in the world have little hope of surviving against those who band together in gangs using brute force to get what they want.
No country For Old Men is available from Amazon.com for $11.20 + shipping or from $6.00 used. Yes, I own stock in Amazon.com. 🙂
Kuwait Driving Laws Enforced in Hawali
AdventureMan and I have a running disagreement. I say more people are pulling over to make calls, or using headsets. He says he sees people using mobile phones all the time. (He would not agree to a spot survey of the cars around us, but we also noticed fewer children in the front seats, very cool.)
I think traffic is improving in Kuwait. I see more people using seatbelts, fewer people weaving around while trying to talk on cell phones, and more people using turn signals. I see less endangering behaviors.
Am I being too optimistic here?
From the Arab Times:
250 citations issued: Hawalli police launched an intensive campaign and issued 250 citations to motorists for not wearing seatbelts and another 50 for using mobile phones while driving, reports Arrouiah daily.
It Gives Me Hope
You know who I am, I’m pretty consistent in what I have to say. I believe we all have a lot more in common than we have differences, and I want us to find ways to get along. We, as a species, spend so much time and energy and resources fighting over the pettiest differences. How will we ever call ourselves civilized until we can treat every fellow creature with respect?
I bet Cupertino has problems, too. I know for one thing it is incredibly expensive. Most of what I saw there, I really liked. Whole Foods. High Tech Engineering. A wide variety of people, all working together in peace.
At our hotel, there were five weddings taking place the same day as “our” wedding. I came down in the elevator with one couple and their parents, and I got a photo of them in the hotel garden area before their wedding:
The groom is from India, and the bride is Chinese. The parents, and all the relatives are gathered, and dressed in gorgeous, flowing silks, and the bride and groom are just amazingly in love with each other and it is so beautiful, they are all so happy.
Cupertino takes a lot of pride in being beautiful, and the buildings they build are beautiful and they have “campuses” where lots of related buildings are connected with winding garden paths and ponds full of ducks.
I particularly love this sculpture:
Which looks totally different from the side:
There were flowers and plants everywhere. Many I couldn’t even recognize. I would have to learn a whole new world of gardening in California:
Whole Foods Market
EnviroGal and I have just finished exploring Cupertino-into-San-Jose and when Big Diamond calls:
“We’re heading to Whole Foods for lunch, then to the playground – want to join us?”
We passed Whole Foods earlier and we know right where it is.
“We’ll meet you there!” we reply, and are there within minutes.
Oh my heavens.
Whole Foods is a whole different food experience. It takes grocery buying – and lunch – to a whole new level.
About one third of the very very large store is devoted to take-out food. There are three different large buffet stations, one for global food, one for salad bars, one for main dishes, and then there is a whole separate one for freshly prepared Japanese food. There is another separate area for custom sandwiches, and another area for desserts.
Drinks are nearby – an unimaginable variety of drinks.
I had a spinach salad with dried cranberries and toasted pecans and roquefort cheese, with a balsamic dressing, and enari sushi.
Big Diamond had an Indian Curry, and also macaroni and cheese.
EnviroGirl and SportyDiamond had Indian foods – and Mexican foods.
And so it goes. Whole Foods specializes in organically grown foods, fresh fresh foods, the best vegetables in the world. They prepare meals for thousands of high-tech workers who don’t want to spend a lot of time thinking about food, but want to enjoy eating it when they remember to eat.
You really have to see it to believe it. And no, Purg, they didn’t mind my taking photos, right out in the open:
It’s interesting to me – with all the computer people around here, I don’t see a lot of overweight people. I saw a group of grannies, they must have been near seventies, all in bright yellow biking outfits, helmuts and all, and they looked wiry and spry. I see families of all nationalities, people from all over the world, all gathered in the same coffee shops, groceries, etc. and I wonder how they all work together in peace?
Trinity Sunday
This was Trinity Sunday, and I hesitate to even bring it up, because it always causes so much misunderstanding between us. No, we don’t believe in three Gods. We believe in one God, who is at the same time Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
I am not a theologian, so what I am about to tell you is just my interpretation of a mystery which has been debated by minds much greater than my own. I tell my Muslim friends that it is like this:
I have a relationship with my husband, as his wife. We communicate in a certain way, we understand one another in a certain way, to my husband, I am his wife.
I am mother to my son, we communicate differently, and he thinks of me as mother.
I am daughter to my mother, and we communicate differently, and she thinks of me as her daughter.
My husband doesn’t think of me as daughter, and neither does my son. I am all three, and yet I am one person.
That is grossly simplified, and God is much more complicated than I can understand. I just wanted you to know, we believe, as Muslims do, that there is one God.
We do not believe God had sex with Mary. We believe Mary conceived by the wish of God, she conceived immaculately, without having had sex. The Angel Gabriel came to her and told her she had been selected, but she could say yes or no, and she said “yes.” Because she said yes, Jesus was born of Mary.
This was a sweet Sunday for me, because I was able to worship in my home church, here in Seattle. We sang all the oldest hymns. It was a lovely service. Afterwards, I asked the priests if I could take their photos for you, my friends in Kuwait.
If you want to argue with me, it won’t do any good. I am not that smart about religion, I just believe, I’m a pretty simple character. Find someone smarter than I am to argue with!
How We See Things in Kuwait
AdventureMan and I have an ongoing discussion over the cell phone ban while driving in Kuwait. I see people pulled over to the side of the road, at traffic circles, along the major north/south routes, pulled over in complicated neighborhoods. I love to see them – many are using their hands to help understand the directions, waving left, then straight, then left again – it warms my heart.
AdventureMan, on the other hand, he who loves the efficiency of being able to do two things at the same time, drive and do business or talk to me, says he sees people all the time using their cell phones while they are driving.
So I think we are seeing what we want to see.
He kids me, as I track diwaniyyas, where they used to be, those still being dismantled. Friends are telling me that they can now see around dangerous corners where someone had built an illegal little cabin for their driver to sleep in, trees and foliage have been cut back, neighborhoods have a new look. I find it exciting – obeying the law can be tough, it can be inconvenient, and the temptation in all of us is to say “it’s a great law for them, but it doesn’t apply to me.”
AdventureMan scowls when he has to obey a law that he doesn’t think should apply to him. I say scowling is OK, as long as you do it. There are times I am tempted to skirt the law, but this blog keeps me honest – how does it look if I’m always talking about law and order, and then I choose to break the law, too? Having a child keeps you honest – when you face temptation, you know those little eyes are watching you, and it gives you that little extra boost to make the right choice.
Pearls mentioned she thinks people are sticking closer to the speed limits with the new fines in force, and that the roads are much more enjoyable these days. I agree, with one exception, and that is when traffic slows on the major north/south roads, there are still those idiots who use the emergency lanes to get to the front of the line. We need some BIG fines for those guys.
Last but not least, my Co-op seems to be enforcing the no parking in the handicapped section once again, thanks be to God. The poor manager, I keep going in and telling him that “big strong men” should not be using those spots. He keeps thinking I want the spot and I laugh and say no, I am a strong woman and I can walk, but what about the heavily pregnant woman with her five children, or the old man with his walker or cane, or the one with emphysema.
Finally, I suggested that he have grocery packers assigned to watch, and to run out and insist on assisting anyone who parks there, a special service for the handicapped. Sometimes you can accomplish with kindness what you can’t hope to accomplish with signs and harsh words. Whatever he has chosen to do, it appears to be working, people are not parking in the handicapped spots. 🙂
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