Ring Roads to be Modified
Here is another very small article in the Kuwait Times that is about to have a big impact on all our lives.
Roads to be Modified
The Ministry of Public Works, in cooperation with an international consultation office, recently signed a contract to develop and modify the Second Ring Road, the Third Ring Road, Cairo street and Damascus street. The contract includes the construction of bridges and tunnels on the road’s current intersections and building new intersections if necessary. The contract was signed by Minister of Public Works and MInister of Municipality Affairs Moussa As-Sarraf and has an estimated cost of KD 1.2 million and a duration of 18 months.
It’s going to be a mess, but if it has been well thought through, it should be SO worth it. Already, traffic along the Gulf Road at Bida’a (formerly Bida’a circle) has improved enormously – and I bet the accident rate there has already dropped, too.
Doesn’t that sum sound meager for so much anticipated improvement? Like KD 1.2 million is about the cost of building a serious villa in Kuwait these days, isn’t it? Bridges and tunnels are costly – and labor intensive. That just sounds like a bargain for all the work that is going to be done.
Another Glorious Day
Woooo Hoooooo, Goooooooooooood Moooorrrrnnnnning, Kuuuuuuuuuuuuuwwwwwaaaaiiiiiiiiiiittttttttttttttt!
It is COOOLLLDDDD this morning again, 4°C/39°F, and the sky is clear. There is a very thin layer of haze on the horizon; it is so clear I can see the freighters far out in the Gulf and the gleam of roofs out on Failaika Island. Woooo Wooooo, a glorious day in Kuwait!
For you non-morning people, I apologize for my enthusiasm and for waking you. 😉
And finally, I have added a Sunrise Series to my catagories, it’s about time, hmmm?
Where Things Go?
This last week I had a lot of shopping to do, and specific things I was looking for. I pretty well know where to look for what I am seeking now, in spite of the fact that the grocery stores here have a different logic than the logic I am used to.
It’s not a right or wrong thing; it is a different cultures thing. I had the same issues when I would be looking for things in the German supermarkets, or the French supermarkets, or even shopping in Florida supermarkets as opposed to West Coast supermarkets.
I was looking for chopped pimentos, (AdventureMan has a yearning for a Southern staple called Pimento Cheese) which I sort of found and sort of didn’t. What I eventually found, in the condiment section, with the pickles, was canned roasted peppers, which I then chopped into tiny pieces.
Most of the time, I don’t have any trouble finding pimentos, but for some reason, the last month or two, I haven’t been able to find them until today. Usually, if I am going to find pimentos, I find them in the same section with tomato paste, hot pepper paste, and spicy Indian pickles. Condiments like mustards, mayonnaises, steak sauces, ketchups and baby foods are all up on top of the frozen foods. (See! I don’t KNOW why!) Today, I actually found them in the American pickle section. I don’t know why.
In the dairy department, there isn’t a yoghurt section, or a milk section, there is a KDD Dairy section and an Al Marai Dairy section, and (there are more) today none of the sections had sour cream, and in fact, they didn’t think they had ever had sour cream although I buy it there all the time.
At this point, I have bought so much “just in case I never see it again, ” that I can’t get a single thing more in my freezer.
There is a deli section, where they sell fresh soft cheese, a huge variety of olives, and big flats of eggs, 30 at a time. In the bread section, they also sell potato chips and taco chips. Soda crackers are sold mixed in with what we think of as cookies, sweet biscuits. Cat food is sold next to the baby food and bottled water. Go figure!
After a while, you just kind of know, you kind of get used to it.
The market we used to go to in France was about 1/3 wine, 1/3 fresh vegetables, cheeses, meats and terrines, and the remaining 1/3 was regular groceries!
(Not my photo. I found it at about.com GoFrance)
Clarity
Thanks be to God, I can breathe again! The sandstorm is gone, after hanging around for two days. The sun came up SO bright this morning, so strong it wasn’t even hampered by the haze on the horizon, so bright I couldn’t photograph it!
Here is a photo from the other night, instead:
For non-Kuwaitis, this is the Liberation Tower, in downtown Kuwait.
Adventures in Banking
Sometimes when I am faced with a difficult task, I just put it off. I put it off and put it off – it’s not such a bad strategy, really, as sometimes the problem can go away, or be overcome by events, or solves itself. Most of the time, I reach some point where I am required, finally, to deal with the problem.
I needed money. I had money in my bank, but I didn’t know how to get it. I called the bank to ask how to get money moved from this account to that account.
“No problem, habeebti (dear one),” the customer services lady said, when I explained my problem. Not only did she solve my problem, but she gave me a grin that lasted for the rest of the day. I’ve never had a bank employee call me “dear one” before.
When I would need money, I would go in to the Women’s Bank. It was cool – only women, no important men pushing their way in front. Sometimes we would drink tea as I sat at the desk and filled out the withdrawal form. It all worked fine until they broke off a separate Islamic bank, and I was banking with the non-Islamic side, so I had to use the regular bank.
One time, when I was withdrawing funds to pay for a trip, the customer at the next customer service desk looked just like Saddam Hussein. The customer service woman at that desk was explaining to him that yes, he had checks but he could only write checks for the funds he had deposited in the bank. You could see he got the part about having checks, and writing checks, but this part about funds in the bank to cover the checks – what was that? He looked puzzled, and fierce, and angry, and he argued with the woman, and thought she was messing with him.
Now, I needed to have my name listed on an account my husband had set up for me. After months of putting off the inevitable, including trips to the bank to actually get it done, only to find that branch of the bank was closed, we finally got to the right bank, together, and the bank was opened.
We explained to the receptionist what we wanted, a joint account. He looked at my husband:
“You want her on your account?” (the tone was disbelief)
(Husband nods)
“But WHY??”
(We look at him in astonishment.)
“No. It is not possible.”
(We drop our jaws.)
Then he pats my husband on the back, laughs (he was joking) and takes us to the place where this is done.
We go through the routine again, with the teller. Again, we get astonishment.
We are sent to an office, where paperwork is prepared. In actuality, my name will not be on the account, but I will have access to the account. I don’t know why. No one could ever explain it, other than that is the way it works.
Just to be sure, once my name is – well, not on the account, but allowed to use the account – I give it a try, to make sure it works.
At first, it doesn’t, but then the customer service guy comes by and tells the teller it is OK and voila! I have money! Later in the week, I will try it at an ATM to see if this really works. I’ve gotten cynical. It’s not Kuwait; I have had trouble using ATMs in my own little home town, too. It’s like ATM voodoo.
This bank has small vases of flowers everywhere; the flowers look fresh. There is a system, with taking a number and waiting your turn, and even the very important man who tried to cut the line is told, very politely, that he must take a number. I’m impressed. The bank employees are all very polite, seem to know their jobs, and although it seems our seemingly simple – to us – request is outside their norm, they work hard to accomodate us. All in all, I would give the customer service at this bank an A.
But best of all, I secretly like it that the customer service woman on the telephone calls me “dear one.”
Can’t Breathe!
There is no sunrise today, only a diffuse brightening of the yellow/orange colored cloud enveloping my part of Kuwait. I don’t know if it is enveloping all of Kuwait, because I can only see my own little area. Even though I am not outside, even though I don’t have asthma, I can feel the heaviness of the air. My nose feels stuffy and I feel like I am not getting enough oxygen to my brain. If I am feeling like I need more air, I can’t imagine what it must be like for someone who has asthma.
Last night, going out for date-night dinner, I wished I had a big scarf with me to cover my mouth and eyes from the blowing grains of tiny gritty sand. We had to wash our hands and faces at the restaurant before we could eat. It was as bad when we came out.
When I think sandstorm, I think hot, and desert, and The English Patient. Not so here. It is 46°F/8°C at 7:00 in the morning. Brrrrr and Gaaaassssp!
Sunrise 30 January 2008
Here is the best sunrise photo I could get. This is actually about ten minutes after REAL sunrise, but this is the sun breaking over the thick layer of haze and pollution near the water. My friends, I think we are breathing whatever it is that makes up that cloud . . .
Meanwhile, we are having the most wonderful weather, cool evenings, chill nights and nice warm days with lots of sun. Oh! It feels like Spring!
Here is just a few minutes earlier:
And here is one where I thought God had sent me a bird to add interest to my sunrise photo, only to discover I had shot a photo of a gracefully flapping garbage bag:
Marrakesh Delight
Forty days ago, the REAL “first Moroccan restaurant” opened in the Alia/Galia Towers in Mahboula, next door to the Starbucks, and across the street from Al Noukhaza, Sakura, CinnaMonster, Ruby Tuesday’s etc.
The entrance is warm and welcoming. The Marrakesh may not be well advertised, but it is certainly not undiscovered, and if you want to get a table, you will want to reserve, or to get there early. It deserves the crowds.
The decor is lush, with large mashrabiyya screens between spacious saltillo-tiled areas. Heavy tablecloths, Moroccan tableware, plush banquettes and attentive service are all side orders to the exquisite main dishes – the tajines – coming out of the kitchen. By 8:30 on a weeknight, almost every table is filled and people are waiting in the entry for seating.
First dining room:
Decor:
Private dining cabinets:
Starters:
Couscous Barbarian:
Lamb Tajine with Plums:
We really liked it that they played Moroccan music, that the primary wait staff were Moroccan, and that the food was really, REALLY good. Each starter had an individual and lightly spiced flavor, the couscous was rich and light, and the lamb tajine with plums was tender, sweet and heavenly. The tea was hot and our etched glass cups frequently refilled, and an irresistable plate of sweets arrived just when we thought none of us could eat another bite.
The table waiters were supplemented by kitchen staff delivering the meals hot and covered in the traditional tajines, and there are three separate richly decorated dining areas (one we think is just for men), AND the private cabinets in the back. We intend to go back often – it’s that good.
TELEPHONE: 3715333
Update: When I called for reservations, no one answered. When I went by in person to make reservations, I was told that the management has informed the staff that they have a “no reservations” policy, and you just have to show up and hope to get seated.
“Hello! My Name is Heather . . . “
Every now and then, one of my readers writes to me. Most of the time, it is on an issue, and behind the blog we have a great conversation. (I learn so much from you, my readers.) 🙂
Occasionally, I will get one that makes the little hairs on the back of my neck rise up. I wish I had saved the one I got that started “Hello! My name is Heather (last name) and I live in (small-town) Iowa, and I would like your permission to share your (wonderful) blog with my friends.”
She went on to tell me a little about herself. I don’t know why – there was something about the letter that made me uncomfortable, and I have learned to trust those feelings.
I wrote to her and told her she was welcome to share my site, that anyone could visit, they were welcome. I didn’t share any personal details in return.
Her next e-mail coming back told me a whole lot about her life, and . . . it didn’t ring true. I don’t know why. When your instincts are telling you something is not right, you just MUST listen.
At the end, she asked who I really was, and where I was from and more oh-now-that-we’re-such-good-friends kinds of questions. Bingo. It felt like the whole thing had been set up to ask me that very question. I wrote back, as I always do, that I blog as Intlxpatr for a reason, and that I protect my anonymity.
Funny. I never heard from “her” again. I don’t believe a word she said, including I don’t know that I was corresponding with a woman, much less a woman named Heather.
Why on earth would anyone target me?
My friends, there are crazy people out there, people who think differently from you and me. No matter how good someone sounds, no matter how trustworthy, this is a virtual world, not a real world, and if you gut tells you to beware – then listen. Listen to that gut feeling, listen to the hairs on the back of your neck, and listen to that uneasiness . . . something is not right.
Given enough time, most scams and cons just can’t keep up the deception.
I once worked for an organization which would give emergency loans. I was pretty good, and pretty fast at putting a loan together, and verifying that the loan was needed. One day, a man came in with a serious problem, and with him was his boss, verifying his need. He had all the right papers, too. I made the loan.
Not two months later his boss came in to me with a hangdog look and said “I have to tell you about (so-and-so).”
He had been dealing drugs and had serious problems. His boss had vouched for him. The guy was clean cut and articulate and knew how to present himself. He had all the right papers – and both his boss and I were totally fooled. The boss brought the guy in to apologize to me – he was on his way to jail and he would never repay the loan; I had to write it off. The con-man looked at me and apologized sincerely, and gave me one piece of really really great advice:
“The reason they call us con-men is because we are really good at what we do. We make you believe us.”
Con-men fail in many other areas of their lives – anything that requires consistency and a long term commitment. They can’t perform under scrutiny over time – it’s mostly wires and mirrors and smoke, and it all falls apart when it is examined too closely.
Con-men also create drama that make you feel YOU have to commit now. They have deadlines, and terrible consequences. When you feel that happening in your life, take a deep breath. Slow things down. When you feel unduly rushed, when someone is pushing you for a quick decision on a major issue – that is the time to SLOW WAY DOWN, to examine closely, to give a situation some time. There are con-men and con-women in every culture.
“Heather” – or whoever “she” really was – has agendas you and I can’t begin to imagine. She/He may need money (they often do!) or your connections. He or she may just like messing with people’s lives.
Listen to your instincts, and take your time. Take a deep breath, relax – YOU set your own timeline. Ask around, ask if anyone you know has had experience with a similar approach, especially on the internet. Protect yourself. Protect yourself. Protect yourself.
-Nzm – You’re It: Mermaid of Mangaf Update
Here’s what I love – a comment on my blog, buried way back on a post I wrote almost a year ago ( Mermaid of Mangaf Update) , which was an update on a previous post – Mermaid of Mangaf. And the comment is so good, contains so much more information that I don’t have, that I can use it as a blog entry, lazy lazy me! Wooo Hoooo, for my readers and commenters. -Nzm, today, you are my guest blogger!
Hey all! We went to visit the mermaid a few months ago, and the management was really kind and gave us a whole tour of the place. They showed us two villas, one furnished and the other plain. The villas are absolutely gorgeous, very luxurious and spaceous. The look and feel is completely different from the rest of the housing in kuwait — the Mermaid encompasses a very western style/feel of living. (You might feel as if you are no longer in kuwait!).. The roof contains the pool, party hall with a plasma tv, gym, saunas, squash courts, lockers, a massage centre and even a cafeteria…The view of the sea from the roof is breath taking. And yes there is also a car elevator which tenants can use (at the time we visited they had not finished installing the interiors of the elevator)
However, the prices are quite high for each villa.. The villas at the very bottom are selling for 310,000 KD and the ones at the very top are for 370,000 KD with ranging prices for villas in between (you cannot simply “rent” the villas). Also, you must pay 90% of price on purhase, and EVERY MONTH you must pay 500 KD for maintenance.
Honestly, as beautiful as the mermaid is, I dont think its worth THAT much money.. (370,000 KD converts to about 1,365,152 Canadian dollars!) I’m sure you can find much better houses for that amount of money in Kuwait..I know that the villas are stunning but the prices are set too high.
Recently, we have heard that Tijara changed its pricing and now you can actually rent the villas for about 2,600 KD/month (this is simply what I have heard)…
I live very close to the Mermaid and pass it every day, and I believe that it is still as empty as it was before.. the clothes some people have seen hanging on the balcony are those of the workers who stay around the villas for cleaning/maintenance. It appears quite empty.
I do not know the current situation of the Mermaid, but if someone could update us that us that would be nice. I hope my information has helped!
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