Kuwait Public Transportation
There were two influences that came together for this post. First, a show on BBC about green taxes supporting green initiatives, like public transportation. Second, last night I saw a Kuwait public bus.
Does it seem to you that the buses in Kuwait are looking cleaner than a couple years ago? The one I saw looked new, was undefaced, looked modern, and the passengers on it looked orderly, cool and happy. There were no women.
So here is my question to you – what would it take to get you to use public transportation rather than driving your own car every day?
I have a shameful confession. I didn’t even learn to drive until I was 25. I didn’t need to. I was in Germany when I hit the driving age, and there was public transportation at reasonable prices nearly everywhere I needed to go. And it was trolleys; trolleys are a lot of fun. When I went off to university, I ended up in Seattle, which also had excellent public transportaton – in Seattle, public transportation is all integrated and includes buses, trolleys and ferries across the Sound.
The buses ran on time. Occasionally, I would hate the walk to the bus stop on a cold rainy day with a driving wind (hard on the hairstyle), but for the most part, the buses ran on time, and I could read or plan my work day on the way to work. I didn’t mind not driving, at least not much. When I did, I learned to drive.
What are the barriers to public transportation in Kuwait? What would it take to make me want to use public transportation?
First, due to the extreme weather, I would want almost door-to-door transportation. This could be done with a train/trolley system where you drive to a Park and Ride spot in your air conditioned car and then jump on an air conditioned trolley or bus. The bus or trolley would need to transit in an air conditioned facility, where we could switch to a mini bus which would drop us within half a block of our destination, i.e. frequent stops.
The system would have to have a schedule, to which it kept rigorously and reliably.
The system would have to have redundancies and back-ups, because mechanical failures and equipment failures happen.
The system would have to have well trained, knowledgable bus drivers who spoke some few words in multiple languages.
The system would have to have protected, non-damagable cameras on every trolley and bus, and would have to commit to prosecuting vandals and people who could not behave themselves on the bus.
It might have to have separate seating for unaccompanied women. *Sigh* It seems to be a fact of life here that women are fair game for harassment. I am thinking there could be advertisements along the upper over-window area, like in London and Germany, and some qur’anic inscriptions about respect for women. And maybe also the environment. Every vehicle would need to have at least one trashcan.
To have a usuable transportation system would require, also, a nationwide campaign for respecting the law, and rules. It would also need a nationwide public-stewardship educational program, “this is your country, keep it clean, no littering, etc.”
And it would need methodical, impartial enforcement of the laws. That would be a whole separate campaign, educating the public to respect the law enforcement officers (in the last two weeks, there have been multiple reports of police officers being beaten by citizens, police officers! Unthinkable!) And there would need to be a parallel educational campaign for law-enforcement, training on what the law is (i.e. a police officer is not “insulted” by being passed by a taxi that is under the speed limit) and their mission – and I think policework is a holy mission – to see that power is not abused, the weak are protected against the bullies, and that the laws are enforced gently and impartially.
Let’s face it, driving in Kuwait can be a real drag. Many times of the day you are caught in gridlock, there are yahoos on the road totally lacking in brains, there are drunks and druggies on the road – and parking is a nightmare. Public transportation could be a godsend.
And just to show we are serious, let’s make it FREE! How is that for an incentive?
When I was going to live in Saudi Arabia, my primary concern was not being able to drive. I quickly learned it wasn’t so bad. There was a well stocked small store on our beautiful compound, and you saw all your friends there, and there was a message board, and a video store, a laundry, and most of the basics. There was a shopping bus that ran twice a day, and a group that met once a month to set up the shopping bus schedule, so it went where people wanted to go.
In addition, when you needed a car and driver, the compound had a few available, you could reserve them for a very reasonable fee.
It worked beautifully.
There is potential in Kuwait for a visionary transportation system. What would make it work for YOU?
We Do Not Have Homosexuals in Iran
I found this clip through Global Voices Kuwait who got it from somewhere else, too! Isn’t the net great?
Mahmud Ahmadinejad,Iranian president,said,in Columbia University,”we do not have homosexuals in Iran like you do in your country.” He brought the house down. Most just laughed, a few boo-ed.
The Columbia University president has taken a lot of criticism for his decision to have Ahmadinejad speak. He stuck to his guns.
You can see the film clip for yourself here: We Do Not have Homosexuals in Iran.
Parting the Waters
We all know how Moses parted the Dead Sea to allow passage for the departing Israelites, but in today’s reading from the Old Testament, we are reminded that two other great prophets, Elijah and Elisha, were also able, with God’s help, to part the seas. This is from the Bible; does the Qur’an have a similar reading?
2 Kings 2:1-18
2Now when the Lord was about to take Elijah up to heaven by a whirlwind, Elijah and Elisha were on their way from Gilgal. 2Elijah said to Elisha, ‘Stay here; for the Lord has sent me as far as Bethel.’ But Elisha said, ‘As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you.’ So they went down to Bethel. 3The company of prophets* who were in Bethel came out to Elisha, and said to him, ‘Do you know that today the Lord will take your master away from you?’ And he said, ‘Yes, I know; keep silent.’
4 Elijah said to him, ‘Elisha, stay here; for the Lord has sent me to Jericho.’ But he said, ‘As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you.’ So they came to Jericho. 5The company of prophets* who were at Jericho drew near to Elisha, and said to him, ‘Do you know that today the Lord will take your master away from you?’ And he answered, ‘Yes, I know; be silent.’
6 Then Elijah said to him, ‘Stay here; for the Lord has sent me to the Jordan.’ But he said, ‘As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you.’ So the two of them went on. 7Fifty men of the company of prophets* also went, and stood at some distance from them, as they both were standing by the Jordan. 8Then Elijah took his mantle and rolled it up, and struck the water; the water was parted to the one side and to the other, until the two of them crossed on dry ground.
9 When they had crossed, Elijah said to Elisha, ‘Tell me what I may do for you, before I am taken from you.’ Elisha said, ‘Please let me inherit a double share of your spirit.’ 10He responded, ‘You have asked a hard thing; yet, if you see me as I am being taken from you, it will be granted you; if not, it will not.’ 11As they continued walking and talking, a chariot of fire and horses of fire separated the two of them, and Elijah ascended in a whirlwind into heaven. 12Elisha kept watching and crying out, ‘Father, father! The chariots of Israel and its horsemen!’ But when he could no longer see him, he grasped his own clothes and tore them in two pieces.
13 He picked up the mantle of Elijah that had fallen from him, and went back and stood on the bank of the Jordan. 14He took the mantle of Elijah that had fallen from him, and struck the water, saying, ‘Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?’ When he had struck the water, the water was parted to the one side and to the other, and Elisha went over.
15 When the company of prophets* who were at Jericho saw him at a distance, they declared, ‘The spirit of Elijah rests on Elisha.’ They came to meet him and bowed to the ground before him. 16They said to him, ‘See now, we have fifty strong men among your servants; please let them go and seek your master; it may be that the spirit of the Lord has caught him up and thrown him down on some mountain or into some valley.’ He responded, ‘No, do not send them.’ 17But when they urged him until he was ashamed, he said, ‘Send them.’ So they sent fifty men who searched for three days but did not find him. 18When they came back to him (he had remained at Jericho), he said to them, ‘Did I not say to you, Do not go?’
Peter Bowen: Wolf, No Wolf
“You have to take this. You’ll really like it,” Sparkle insisted as I inwardly groaned, thinking of the TWO stacks of unread-must-reads by the side of my bed, and my already bulging suitcases.
“I know it doesn’t sound like something you’ll like,” she went on, slightly frustrated with me, with herself, “but once you start reading, you’ll get into it.”
Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but good enough for me. I always KNOW what I think she will love, and she has done me many a favor in return, introducing me to authors and series worth reading.
“It’s about Montana. The main character is mixed Indian and French and some other things, a grandfather, and it all takes place in a small town in Montana . . . ” she sort of fizzles out. “I’m really not doing a very good job of making this interesting.”
And she sighs in frustration.
So, about a month later, just because I love my sister, I pick the book up and start reading while waiting for my husband to get home for dinner. As it turns out, he is very very late – and I am very very glad. I don’t want to stop reading!
When you first jump into Wolf, No Wolf by Peter Bowen, it takes you a minute to adjust your ear to the way they talk. These aren’t people most of us have met before. Gabriel DuPre´ is m´etis, a mixed blood. His ancestors are French who came early to the great continent that is now the US, Canada and Mexico, and they trapped and hunted, married native American wives, and developed a culture all their own. His language pattern is similar to that of the Cajun in Louisiana.
He is a cattle brand inspector in this small Montana town. His children are grown, he has so many grandchildren he can’t remember all their names. Every now and then, he pins on his deputy sherrif badge to solve a mystery in the small town of Toussaint, Montana.
Here is how Wolf, No Wolf opens:
Du Pre´ fiddled in the Toussaint Bar. The place was packed. some of Madelaine’s relatives had come down from Canada to visit. It was fall and the bird hunters had come, to shoot partridges and grouse on the High Plains.
The bird hungers were pretty OK. The big game hunters were pigs, mostly. The bird hunters were outdoors people; they loved it and knew it, or wanted to. The big game hungers wanted to shoot at something big, often someone’s cows.
Bart had bought a couple thousand dollars’ worth of liquor and several kegs of beer and there was a lot of food people had brought. Everything was free.
Kids ran in and out. The older ones could have beers. Bart was tending bar. Old Booger Tom sat on one of the high stools, cane leaned up against the front of the bar.
“You do that pretty good for someone the booze damn near killed,” said Booger Tom. “I know folks won’t be in the same room with the stuff.”
“Find Jesus,” said Bart. “It’s not too late to save your life.”
He went down to the far end of the bar and took orders. Susan Klein, who owned the saloon, was washing glasses at a great pace.
One of Madelaine’s relatives was playing the accordion, another an electric guitar. They were very good.
Du Pre´ finished. He was wet with sweat. The place was hot and damp and smoky, so smoky it was hard to see across the room. The room wasn’t all that big, either.
Madelaine got up from her seat, her pretty face flushed from drinking the sweet pink wine she loved. She threw her arms around Du Pre´ and kissed him for a long time.
“Du Pre´,” she said, “you make me ver’ happy, you play those good songs.”
. . …
Someday this fine woman marry me, thought Du Pre´, soon as the damn Catholic church, it tell her OK, your missing husband is dead now so you can quit sinning, fornicating with DuPre´.
I’ve never hung out in a bar in Montana, fiddled, or had a girlfriend named Madeleine (!), but already I feel like I know these people and this life. Peter Bowen is the Donna Leon of Montana, introducing us to the kind of crimes that happen in those sleepy looking towns we drive past on the superhighways, glancing at, or stopping to fill our gas tanks.
DuPre´ is a good man, and, like many a good man, sometimes has to do a bad thing to protect those he is sworn to protect. Policing is not pretty business.
The first story has to do with the re-introduction of wolves back into the Montana highlands, something not at all popular with those who have been raising cattle there. The second book in this two-book collection has to do with serial killers, how they stay under the radar, and how very difficult it is to catch them.
In both books, it is as much about a new way of living and thinking as it is about solving the crime. DuPre´ consults often with his friend Benetsee, the local medicine man, who sees things we don’t see. One of the FBI Agents is Harvey Wallace, also more than half native American, whose real name is Harvey Weasel Fat. The books are about how men and women fight, the nature of male friendships and female friendships, and very much about the human condition wherever we may be.
Life is short. I can never live in all these places long enough to even scratch the surface of the flavor of each variety of life. But these books help, they give us glimpses into another way of thinking, another way of doing things, and stretches our little minds just a little so that we learn to think more flexibly.
So who is going to write the Kuwait detective series? Who will take us into the diwaniyyas seeking information, who will take us out on the shoowi to gather information against those delivering drugs to Kuwait, with whom will we camp in the desert, avoiding explosives left over from the Iraqi invasion? I think his name is Anwar al Kout (the light of Kuwait!) and his wife is Suhail (the Yemeni Star!) – somewhere out there is someone who can take us into Kuwait and bring it alive. Where are you?
(You were right, Sparkle. I loved it!)
Corporate Dancing
Maria, at A Time to Dance writes a lyrical and insightful comparison of Salsa dancing and the subtleties of corporate leadership – and followership. In a very original and poignant article, Maria juxtaposes her subjects with deft elegance.
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