Sharks and Underwear
Two things happened yesterday that caught my attention – and I wonder if everyone knows about these things except for me, or if others are also caught by surprise.
First, on the way to go shopping, my good friend told me that shark is no longer available in the fish souks. We don’t eat a lot of shark, but we often buy it to fill in a good bouillabaisse (if you are superstitious and believe there must be seven different fish in your bouillabaisse) or to cook up to feed the feral cats in the neighborhood. Even the heads make a big hit with the local cats. 🙂
“No, a recent religious decision says that shark is ‘haram’, ” she said, as I gaped in disbelief. “Their skin has no scales.”
“But the Kuwaitis eat shrimp!” I responded, “and shrimp are also haram according to some Muslims. Who is going to tell Kuwaitis not to eat shrimp?”
“I don’t make the rules,” she responded. “I am just letting you know. The fishman said that because sharks have no scales and something about the male sexual organ, I don’t know, but now they can’t sell shark anymore.”
She paused, thoughtfully.
“What will the poor people do?” she asked. “Most of the people who buy shark can’t afford anything better.”
Later, our marketing accomplished, our goods safely in cupboards and refrigerators, I read the news. This is from yesterday’s Kuwait Times:
Shops Banned from Displaying Lingerie
Kuwait: The Minister of Commerce and Trade and Minister of State for National Assembly Affairs Ahmad Baqer last week issued decision No. 430/2008 which bans any display of women’s underwear in shop windows or at the front of shops.
It is permissible, however, to display such garments inside outlets.
The decision also banned any unclothed display of mannequins used for modeling underwear in order to protect the moral well being of passersby, with legal penalties to be taken against shops which violate the new regulations.
I’m sorry if this offends you, but it just made me laugh. Even Saudi Arabia, the most traditional of the traditional, allows underwear to be displayed. Even Qatar, more conservative than Kuwait, allows underwear to be displayed. Some of my very favorite images are those of abaya’d, veiled, ladies looking at a particularly luscious set of fabulous under-garments.
Changes are occurring in Kuwait, small changes, incremental changes, and little by little, as they aggregate, the face of Kuwait is changing.
Brutal Ramadan
Yesterday was the first day of Ramadan. As I headed out early to the markets, it was a breeze. It was hot, but not too bad. Schools are later during Ramadan, so the roads were clear. It wasn’t too bad, not until around 10 a.m. when I started getting thirsty and reached for a bottle of water, which, fortunately, was not there, or I might have taken a swig without a second thought, just out of habit.
“Oh my good sweet Lord,” I thought to myself, “how are these people going to make it through the day?”
I knew all I needed was to get home, and behind my closed doors, in the privacy of my own home, I could sip to my heart’s content.
But what about my brothers and sisters, fasting in this heat? To make it worse, high humidity set in, when you walk out your door, your sunglasses steam. It is so hot that the car’s air conditioning finally cools you down just about as you are arriving at your destination. Heat, humidity, heavy traffic and fasting – what a test of spiritual fortitude.
Last year, I discovered late afternoon – around four – was a good time to hit the co-op. I am guessing that it wasn’t the first day of Ramadan when I figured that out – because at 4:00 yesterday, the co-op was full, mostly men with their phones to their ears, men with that harassed look on their faces that says they are feeling desperate as they try to fill the list, buy the things that their wives MUST HAVE to make their first breaking-of-the-fast meal a perfect one.
The lines were long. The aisles were messy, the special displays had been hit and there were cans and soaps and things all over the floor. The bread wasn’t even on the shelves, customers had to dig into the delivery bins to pull out a loaf. All the helpers were up front, helping bag, helping clean up, helping customers tote their loads out to the cars, which were jammed into the parking lot, as other cars trolled, looking for a spot.
For such chaos, it was not noisy. People were subdued, suffering, just trying to get through this purgatorian experience, knowing that the best is yet to come. I saw no yelling, no pushing, none of the behaviors that being hot and hungry and desperate can bring on. People were patient. I respected their commitment.
But one thing caught my eye. Above the cashiers, there are now flat screen tv’s beaming luscious photos of food at all the fasting Moslems. Pancakes, being loaded with honey. Whipped cream loaded onto sweet, tempting fruits. Cakes, pies, rich and gleaming, meats dripping with fats on the grill. I looked around. Most of the customers had their eyes firmly on their baskets, on the ground, anywhere but on those flat screens. How awful, having those images broadcast repeatedly while you are still a good two hours away from breaking your fast!
The parking lot was bearable. There were still people driving a little desperately, looking for spots. Still people squealing their wheels in their eagerness to return home. Still a few horns honking, but not so many as you might think. I was amazed and impressed at the forbearance of the fasting customers.
The image at the top is posted because it looks cool and clear. It can take you to a cooler place, as you endure through the day. I wish you success with your fast.
Ramadan Mubarak!
Welcome, Ramadan!
I looked, early this morning, to see if I could spot that thin thin sliver of a crescent moon. The sky – at 4:45 a.m. was clear and there were twinkling stars, but if there was a thin crescent moon, I couldn’t find it.
Wishing you all, my brothers and sisters, a blessed month of contemplation and spiritual enhancement, of family time and time for reading the Qur’an, of sacrifice and joy.
Ramadan Sunrise
Still jet lagging, but not so badly. I can sleep from ten at night until almost 5 in the morning, now, and actually, I kind of like it. I really like being able to use the pool all by myself, no ooglers, everyone asleep, just me and the pool. And then, oh, I really really like watching the sun rise.
This morning, the pre-sunrise was glorious, too:
You know me, I have this thing about the sun reflecting on clouds. In the Pacific Northwest, that happens best at sunset, but here in Kuwait, I have my sunrises. 🙂 This morning’s sunrise, to welcome Ramadan, was sheer beauty:
The weather is cooling more at night – it is only 84°F/ 29°C at 6:30 this morning, but . . . the forecast is for a brutal 118°F / 48°C today, for the first day of Ramadan. Good day for a mid-day nap, if you have that luxury.
May Ramadan be generous to you.
Moonsighting
This is what I find so exciting about blogging. This morning I found a comment in my moderation stack from blogger Fahad (His blog is Salmiya) recommending a website Moonsighting, which has all kinds of wonderful photos made of the new Ramadan moon.
I had never known how very very thin this crescent is, and how difficult it can be to spot. In some of the photos, it takes a few seconds to find it at all – and you have to know what you are looking for.
Meanwhile – some of the photos are simply breathtaking.
There is also something that makes me LOL. There are a large number of topics at the top of the page, the last one says “Do Not Click.” I didn’t click it. I resisted. But I am also willing to bet that there are a lot of people who cannot resist. If you are one of them, come back and let me know what happens! LLOOLLLL!
Ramadan for Non Muslims
I am repeating this post from September 13, 2007 because it found so much interest among my non-Muslim friends. We are all so ignorant of one another’s customs, why we do what we do and why we believe what we believe. There is a blessing that comes with learning more about one another – that blessing, for me, is that when I learn about other, my own life is illuminated.
(I didn’t take this photo; it is from TourEgypt.net. If you want to see an astonishing variety of Ramadan lanterns/ fanous, Google “Image Ramadan lanterns” and you will find pages of them! I didn’t want to lift someone else’s photo from Flicker or Picasa (although people do that to me all the time!) but the variety is amazing.)
Ramadan will start soon; it means that the very thinnest of crescent moons was sighted by official astronomers, and the lunar month of Ramadan might begin. You might think it odd that people wait, with eager anticipation, for a month of daytime fasting, but the Muslims do – they wait for it eagerly.
A friend explained to me that it is a time of purification, when your prayers and supplications are doubly powerful, and when God takes extra consideration of the good that you do and the intentions of your heart. It is also a time when the devil cannot be present, so if you are tempted, it is coming from your own heart, and you battle against the temptations of your own heart. Forgiveness flows in this month, and blessings, too.
We have similar beliefs – think about it. Our holy people fast when asking a particular boon of God. We try to keep ourselves particularly holy at certain times of the year.
In Muslim countries, the state supports Ramadan, so things are a little different. Schools start later. Offices are open fewer hours. The two most dangerous times of the day are the times when schools dismiss and parents are picking up kids, and just before sunset, as everyone rushes to be home for the breaking of the fast, which occurs as the sun goes down. In olden days, there was a cannon that everyone in the town could hear, that signalled the end of the fast. There may still be a cannon today – in Doha there was, and we could hear it, but if there is a cannon in Kuwait, we are too far away, and can’t hear it.
When the fast is broken, traditionally after the evening prayer, you take two or three dates, and water or special milk drink, a meal which helps restore normal blood sugar levels and takes the edge off the fast. Shortly, you will eat a larger meal, full of special dishes eaten only during Ramadan. Families visit one another, and you will see maids carrying covered dishes to sisters houses and friends houses – everyone makes a lot of food, and shares it with one another. When we lived in Tunisia, we would get a food delivery maybe once a week – it is a holy thing to share, especially with the poor and we always wondered if we were being shared with as neighbors, or shared with as poor people! I always tried to watch what they particularly liked when they would visit me, so I could sent plates to their houses during Ramadan.
Just before the sun comes up, there is another meal, Suhoor, and for that meal, people usually eat something that will stick to your ribs, and drink extra water, because you will not eat again until the sun goes down. People who can, usually go back to bed after the Suhoor meal and morning prayers. People who can, sleep a lot during the day, during Ramadan. Especially as Ramadan moves into the hotter months, the fasting, especially from water, becomes a heavier responsibility.
And because it is a Muslim state, and to avoid burdening our brothers and sisters who are fasting, even non-Muslims refrain from eating, drinking, touching someone of the opposite sex in public, even your own husband (not having sex in the daytime is also a part of fasting), smoking is forbidden, and if you are in a car accident and you might be at fault, the person might say “I am fasting, I am fasting” which means they cannot argue with you because they are trying to maintain a purity of soul. Even chewing gum is an offense. And these offenses are punishable by a heavy fine – nearly $400 – or a stay in the local jail.
Because I am not Muslim, there may be other things of which I am not aware, and my local readers are welcome to help fill in here. As for me, I find it not such a burden; I like that there is a whole month with a focus on God. You get used to NOT drinking or eating in public during the day, it’s not that difficult. The traffic just before (sunset) Ftoor can be deadly, but during Ftoor, traffic lightens dramatically (as all the Muslims are breaking their fast) and you can get places very quickly! Stores have special foods, restaurants have special offerings, and the feeling in the air is a lot like Christmas. People are joyful!
There were many comments on the original post, and, as usual in the history of Here There and Everywhere, the commenters taught us all more about Ramadan than the original post. If you want to read the original post and comments, you can click HERE.
End of August Sunrise
No, no, it’s no trouble at all to be up for the sunrise, in fact, I have been up for hours. Yes, jet lagging. I thought I had dodged that bullet, but when I awoke, feeling GREAT, thinking it was morning, and checked my clock . . . it was only 2:30. 2:30 ay – em.
I’ve got all the laundry done, dishes washed, I’m all unpacked, and I think I am going to need to go back to bed soon.
I was just thinking, for Kuwaitis coming back, there won’t be a jet lag issue – with Ramadan starting almost immediately, nights and days get turned upside down anyway.
My flight in was a hoot – probably 80% families, Kuwaiti and Omani. Most of the kids were between 8 months and 2 1/2 years, but amazingly well behaved. The flight was packed. Packed. Not a single empty seat. I am guessing this was the big influx trying to get back before school starts and Ramadan starts – double whammy.
Fortunately, KLM seemed to have stocked a lot of kid’s meals, they didn’t mind the toddlers in the aisles, and the flight was relatively quiet – astonishingly so, considering all the kids on board. I have never seen a flight with so many children. The Pre-boarding of the families alone took about 45 minutes. Unaccompanied people like me were stuck in here and there where there was an empty seat.
The poor families; many had hoped for an empty seat next to them, and had to hold the babies and toddler the entire flight. There was a baby in my seat when I boarded, but the parents quickly picked her up and we had a good time chatting during our time together; we even all slept when the baby did. The baby coughed and sneezed on my meal, but I don’t seem to be suffering any ill effects. 🙂
I’m happy to be back in Kuwait. I’ve grown to love Ramadan, and I am looking forward with great anticipation to those magical days when the temperatures begin to drop once again and we can spend time outdoors.
Pilot Sleeping, No Penalty
From yesterday’s Kuwait Times:
KAC head overruled in pilot transfer
Published Date: August 28, 2008
KUWAIT: The Administrative Court has overruled the decision of the chairman of Kuwait Airways Company, Hamd Al-Falah, to transfer a pilot from his normal duties to another department, as well as reducing his salary. Al-Falah took the decision after the pilot allegedly committed a violation when he went to sleep while a flight under his control was returning to Kuwait on auto pilot from another Gulf state, reported.
Despite the need for him to resume control of the plane for landing, the pilot could not reportedly be roused from his sleep and the co-pilot had to land the plane single-handedly. The pilot was subsequently referred for investigation by a committee, managed by an Indian administrative employee of the corporation.
The pilot contested the committee’s decision, approved by the chairman, to transfer the pilot and reduce his salary, particularly since aviation regulations prohibit the imposition of two penalties for one violation or mistake.
A court official revealed that, although the court had cancelled the two penalties, it could not officially cancel the decision to transfer an employee since this comes under the authority of the relevant department. Company regulations state that any employee being reassigned should be transferred to a post at the same level as their former position.
What a Difference a “D” Makes
AdventureMan called me, laughing, and said “I just have to tell you what just happened to me.”
He was talking with a Kuwaiti woman who said “You speak Arabic amazingly well, except for one little thing – you say the ‘d’ when you should be saying the ‘Dh’.”
It was all he could do not to laugh. Not because of what she had said, but because it reminded him of a conversation we had, repeatedly.
When AdventureMan took Arabic, I took French. We were on our way to Tunis, I had a small baby, and I already spoke a little French. I made arrangements to study half days, and hoped it would be enough. Thanks be to God, together, we did just fine. In Tunis, most Tunisians spoke French and even those who spoke Arabic switched to French for the numbers. (Things are different now; this was many years ago.) The Tunisians called him “That Lebanese guy married to the French woman.” (He is not Lebanese. I am not French. Most Tunisians spoke a Berber dialect, which was not quite the same as Arabic.)
When I finally started formal Arabic classes, years later, I would say things I had learned from my husband and my dear Qatteri teacher would say “No, that is how those Lebanese people say it, not the way we say it.”
When my husband would correct my Arabic, now I could just cooly look at him and say “That is how you Lebanese say it, but we Qatteris say it this way.”
When he would lecture me on Arabic (I can only absorb about one minute of lecture at a time and them my head starts swimming) I would respond with ” ‘Dh’ AdventureMan, ‘Dh’ ” implying that his “Dh” wasn’t hard enough. It would make him laugh every time, totally crack him up. He can’t lecture me when he is laughing.
So here he is on the phone, laughing and laughing, because the Kuwaiti woman told him his Arabic was fine except that his “dh” wasn’t hard enough. God bless you, dear, whoever you are. 🙂
Hope in a Bottle
Holy Smokes, I notice I am just about out of my trade-mark Smog eye shadow, totally unavailable even in the Sephoras in Kuwait and Qatar, but fortunately available in a nearby Sephora here in Seattle. Sparkle introduced me to Smog, and Maui Wowie, by Urban Decay. If you know me, you know how funny that is. The name is so Goth. I am so not.
As I am perusing what else I might need and not even know it until I see it, a very strange man comes into Sephora with a patter and a handful of red, white and pink balloons.
Honestly, I thought he was like a singing telegram, and maybe it was somebody’s birthday, but the gals working in Sephora were sort of brushing him off and his patter was, well, unattractive when not profane. One gal, working on a makeover, was kind but firm, and said good-bye to him and he seemed to take the hint and left. He comes by almost daily, she said.
As I was checking out, I asked the Sephora lady if she had any little samples of face cream, so that when I go back to Kuwait I can put them in my little plastic sack and use them so my face won’t get all dry, and she very graciously gave me several. It wasn’t until I got home that I took a good look and started laughing. In my family, we have always called all face creams “Hope in a Bottle.”
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