Kuwait conference calls for document on women rights
In yesterday’s Kuwait Times, there was a tiny paragraph in the reporting about Personal Law in Kuwait pertaining to women that stated
“Among the loopholes of that must be corrected is the provision empowering a woman’s father to marry her to whoever he likes or divorce her without consulting or even informing her . . . “
Is this possible? Does this still happen? I thought in Islam, a woman had to agree to accept a man as husband, and had a right to have clauses put into her marriage contract? And a father can have his daughter divorced from her husband without her even knowing about it, much less agreeing to it?
Here is today’s reporting from the Kuwait Times on the recommendations for legal changes:
KUWAIT: Participants in the Conference on the “Kuwaiti Women in National Legislations” have recommended the preparation of a comprehensive national document to facilitate women participation in the country’s development aspects under the sponsorship of the legislative and executive authorities as well as the civic society institutions.
At the conclusion of the one-day conference, organised by the National Assembly’s women affairs committee, the participants demanded improvement of legislative performance, promotion of the existing legislations and completion of the legal system in an introduction for the rise of women’s rights in the society.
To read the rest of the article, with the recommendations made by the committee, click on Kuwait Times, here.
The Kuwait Left Turn
I actually first came across the first left turn in Saudi Arabia, and would watch in horrified fascination at the stoplights. Saudi Arabian driving was the worst I have seen, ever, anywhere in the world, but the driving has some inner logic if you are there long enough to get used to it. (I had thought I would hate not driving, but in Saudi Arabia, I was happy not to drive.)
In Saudi Arabia, there was no respect for lanes at all. At a junction there might be four legal lanes; one marked for people turning left, one for people turning right, and two for going straight ahead, but when the light turned red, there would be six or seven or eight cars lined up, all squeezed together, almost door to door. If there is a space, a car will fill it.
And maybe four or five of those cars would turn left, but not necessarily the four cars closest to the left. One might be in the far right turn lane, but going left. Yes, there were accidents, but not so often as you would think.
In Kuwait, they have refined the right-turn-lane-left-turn down to an art. I’ve gotten so used to it I hardly notice it any more, and that is why I am blogging about it now, so I will have it down before it falls of the screen.
Here is how it works. The guy in the far right lane realizes he needs to turn left. First move – he turns the wheels left and inches forward. Second step – this is optional – he gets the attention of the guy to his left and indicates he needs to go left. This is done with a combination of desperate looking eyes and a hand motion. Third step – he continues inching forward. Last step – just as the light is about to change/is changing he shoots out into the intersection, across four lanes of traffic, making his left turn.
There’s no honking. People are used to it.
That the lane second to the left also often goes left, although it is marked to go straight ahead, is a given.
It happens so often, we take it for granted.
The second variation on a left turn is that in Kuwait there are long stretches between stoplights or roundabouts, but there are conveniently marked areas where you can make a u-turn. There are left turn lanes that make it easy. But often, there are people who don’t want to get in line, or maybe realize too late that this is where they need to turn. No problem. They just get right up next to you and start edging their way in. It can be really scary when that someone is a big cement truck, or a bus full of workers.
Sometimes there can be two or three cars making that left turn at the same time. You would think it would be a disaster, and somehow, it all seems to work.
All this is . . . . very creative, refusing to be limited to what the law says is permissible. The problem becomes switching tracks when you go back to a country where the laws are less flexible.
Adventures in Driving: Kuwait
I found this great road, 303, that goes all the way from Mishref to Fehaheel. It is a little slower than 30 (Fehaheel Expressway) or 40, with more stop lights, but I like it because it is like a European boulevard, several lanes in each direction, divided with a barrier, and it has a lot of public art – cool and interesting sabilles (the places put up for the people passing by to drink water) and all kinds of models of ships. It’s a nice drive.
(i am discovering that there are several of these roads in Kuwait; you just have to find them. If you always take the same route, you can miss some amazing sights.)
I was stopped by police checks twice, whipping out my freshly legal driver’s licence. At the second stop, every vehicle was stopped – except for the ATV with two boys on it that got on who got on somewhere in the south and went all the way to Mishref. The first I saw them was when they went whizzing by me at the second police check.
That’s them, over to the right, by the sign, with another car behind them. It wasn’t easy to get their photo because they were really hauling. Their little ATV was going faster than any of the cars on the road, and they didn’t bother stopping for red lights, or police checks.
I didn’t think those things had that much power. But I am also wondering why, when the police saw them, they didn’t stop the boys? These kids had no business being on a highway, no licenses, no helmuts, no protective clothing, on a vehicle going as fast as an average car. And they weren’t that easy to see – it was dusk. To their credit, they stayed in the right lane, and they did look both ways before going through the red lights.
I was amazed at how fast that little thing went.
Thursday? Friday? Saturday?
Today’s Kuwait Times quotes an “official source” as stating that Kuwait will move to a Friday Saturday weekend as of the 1st of September, and that Kuwait is also looking at daylight savings time starting next Spring. Seems like this trial balloon has floated a time or two before, do you think it will fly this time?
Somehow, it feels in Kuwait like the weekend now is Thursday, Friday and Saturday. The expats seem to be working a six day week (except for the maids, who work 24/7) and everyone seems to take it easier all three days. Wonder if this is really going to happen?
Big Brother and ‘The Look’
Last night I was caught up in the hormone laden chaos of Marina Mall.
Surrounded by hundreds of thuggy looking 11-year-olds and adolescent trollops, I wondered what kept the atmosphere from becoming explosive? All that testosterone, all that rampant estrogen, what an unpredictable combination! So I watched, and then I saw it.
The girls are mostly behaving themselves. Most are dressed modestly, but are ready for that “we had a moment” glance, and half-hoping, half-fearing that it will come. “Eeeeeee!!” they scream, thinking someone might pass them a phone number.
But what keeps the young monkeys, hopped up on testosterone, from getting carried away?
Big Brother.
Not is a mean way, not in a threatening way, just being a big brother.
I would see the gangs of kids, and I would see a white thobed guy, maybe with a friend, maybe with his family.
And I would see “the glance”. “The Look”.
The look said “I see you.”
The look said “I know who who you are, underneath the gel and goofy clothing.”
The look said “I know your family.”
The look said “Remember your manners, little brother.”
And I saw the boys catch the look, and remember who they are. The look was enough. The look is effective. It breaks through the mob mentality and reminds the boys that they will soon have the responsibilities of young men, and that this mob mentality roaming around the Mall will pass. The look reminds the boys of the need for SELF control. The look might even say “I remember those days, and those days are over.”
It’s enough.
Qatteri Cat’s Amusement
This week, my window washers were back, but this time they did not catch me by surprise! I had read the notice posted by the elevator, and closed my sheers so that they couldn’t look in and see me blogging.
The Qatteri Cat, however, thought this was great stuff. He yearns to be an outdoor cat. He remembers the early street life, and then the green garden he called his own, and the occasional escape over the wall and down to visit the neighbors. In his innermost cat nature, he wants to be free to roam, free to follow his cat nature.
So this morning, the window washers provided great excitement in his hum-drum contained life. The window washers stopped briefly to “Miao” at him and tap the window to tease him a little – great fun, if you are a cat. I could hear his loud purring from ten feet away!
Kuwaiti Customs
As we came in through Kuwaiti Customs, I had a few seconds concern – would the vanilla I had packed among my cosmetics be detected? Would my vanilla be confiscated (it contains a tiny bit of alcohol)? Would my DVD’s be objectionable? Would my books be a problem (in addition to the fact that I can barely lift my suitcase)?
I needn’t have worried. Everyone is so well trained, the bags are loaded on the conveyer belt, into the machine, and gathered on the other side. My husband is chuckling and I ask “what’s so funny?” and he says:
“There’s no one checking the bags.”
And he was right. Bags were going through the screening machine – and there was NO ONE there watching the screen.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In spite of all the NO SMOKING signs in the airport, I smelled like cigarettes when I got home, just from the time waiting in the airport for the bags to arrive. I hate it. One guy waiting for his bags made it a point to blow his smoke in my direction. Pure evil or just bad manners?
And at the exit, pure chaos. Huge police presence – squad cars, lights flashing, lots of police – and they are doing nothing! They are greeting their friends, chatting – but no traffic flow control, and we all know how quickly the airport arrivals and departure areas can gridlock.
Our taxi driver was an older guy, not friendly. He got us home in nine minutes, normally a 20 – 30 minute drive. Ahhhh, Kuwait!
Florida Panhandle Weather
We used to live in Tampa, a long time ago. From Tampa, it took nearly a day to drive to the southern tip of Florida. It took a whole day – a very long day – to drive north and then west toward Alabama. Florida is a long state. And it can have a lot of different weather.
When we arrived most recently in Florida, it was hot, as hot as Kuwait is right now, but with more humidity. We had all the right clothes, thank goodness.
Until the Thursday before Easter, when we stepped outside and suddenly it was 40 degrees (F) and a stiff sea-breeze made it feel even colder. We had to run to the store and buy little sweatshirts with hoods to keep warm!
Now it is back up, even hitting 80 or so in the “heat” to the afternoon. We are reveling in the coolness, knowing what we face upon our return back to Kuwait. Last night we had thunderstorms and much needed heavy rainfall, greening up the grass. Today we went out and played with the in-ground watering system, so we could see which zones were which – 12 different settings!
My husband, Adventure Man, is waiting for me. He wants to go have some breakfast, with real bacon. down at the local diner. Then we will hit the hardware stores again, run a few more errands, mail off some items, do some work around the house and just goof around. Aren’t vacations fun?
Adventure Man’s Blog
“If I had a blog, I’d blog about this!” Adventure Man gasped as I held my hand over my mouth in shock.
That is, between whoops of laughter.
Adventure Man asked me if we were going to be on the flight out of Kuwait on which we had been booked. I had just talked with the KLM office in Dubai, seeking a little wasta, and I had been graciously but firmly turned down.
“We’re forked” I said, using a very vulgar word instead of ‘fork.’
“I thought you gave up saying any of those words for Lent?” he hooted.
“No, my goal was no swearing on the roads!” I countered.
And he just gave me that long look that said it all. It said “hypocrite.” It said “I think you’re missing an important point.” It said “bad words are bad words no matter where you use them.”
Adventure Man can get a lot of meaning into one long look. We’ve been married for a long time. He gets the same look from me now and then, the long look.
He had me; he was right, I was wrong.
I started snickering. He started hooting. I laughed out loud. He laughed louder. Soon I was writhing on the floor and he was gasping for breath. It’s good to laugh like that every now and then.
And he’s right. It’s not just on the road. Bad language is bad language and I want to clean up the entire act. I am really really glad Adventure Man doesn’t have his own blog.
Mouth Guard
Last summer, my dentist told me I needed a mouth guard to wear at night to keep me from clenching or grinding my teeth.
I’m a little cynical about what I think of as “dental fundraising”. There always seems to be something beyond teeth cleaning now that my teeth no longer develop cavities. Whitening? Special electric toothbrush? Gum treatments? Hey, lets dig out all those old fillings and replace them with gold? And then let’s replace the gold with porcelain? He is always pushing for something new.
And I think my husband would have said something if I were grinding or clenching my teeth.
But on my way down seventh ring the other day, as one guy whooshed by me doing 40 km/hr over the speed limit and the guy on my right zipped right through the RED light as if it weren’t there, and the Gucci sunglassed dame got right on my bumper even though the passing lane was clear as could be and I had a cement truck on my right, I noticed I was clenching my teeth.
For one thing, although I have not succeeded in my Lenten goal of not saying ANY swear words on the road, I am down to only about one per long trip. For example, I hardly ever swear on the way to go grocery shopping, just a short trip to the co-op.
It is only on the ring roads or the speedways that sometimes a bad word pops out before I can stop it. The exercise in NOT swearing has been good for me in that now I am very aware, even alone in the car, when a word just popped out or almost pops out. And down to one per trip and holding back the others – hey! – all this is good. The goal is still zero-defects. But I have to applaud my progress.
So I am thinking I should probably wear my mouth guard while I am driving, because that is where I am clenching my teeth. But I wish they also made one that would guard my mouth from those very bad words that want to come out.
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