Facets of Oman
At a mountain pottery making village:
The Omani weaver in Jebel Shams:
The Jebal Shams weaver’s grandchildren:
Global Terrorist Incidence Map
My husband told me about a website, Global Incident Map.com where terrorist events are entered on the map and refreshed every 300 seconds (sometimes a little faster and sometimes a little slower.)
You first see a map of the world with flashing incidence icons – explosions, planes, some I am still figuring out. You can click on any one incident to get more information. You can also zoom in and out a la Google Earth – same kinds of controls, to get a closer look at any one part of the globe.
As you scroll down the page, you find a listing of the 25 newest events, listed by country. Scrolling down a little further, you find a search feature, and just below that, events divided into categories (airport/aviation, arson/fire, biological incidents, threats, bomb threats, chemical events, etc.)
The one drawback I have is that every now and then as the maps and incidents refresh, the program hangs up for a matter of seconds to a minute. It clears up faster if you just sit there and do nothing, but I am not good at sitting and doing nothing.
The map is worth a slot on your favorite places list, just for it’s astonishing relevance. Today, for example, in Kuwait, it says:
Kuwait increases security alert
“Officials said authorities did not rule out the prospect that Al Qaida insurgents from Iraq would seek to infiltrate Kuwait and conduct attacks during Hala.”
During HALA????? Strike the desperate bargain and entertainment seekers in Kuwait? We’re that dangerous???
On Wcities.com, HALA is described thus:
“Tourists flock to Kuwait during the period of Hala February. This month-long shopping festival celebrates the beauty of the spring season in the majestic deserts. Whether you come to enjoy the lush springtime greenery and animal life or to purchase items like spices, jewels and ornaments at great discounts, Hala February has it all. The city comes alive with its annual parade, cultural celebrations, entertainment and various organized events. Experience the true, warm Arabian welcome and make your stay a fun-filled experience.”
I don’t think life gets any sweeter than February in Kuwait, but I have a real hard time buying into tourists flocking here for the shopping experience. And a harder time imagining Al Qaeda crazies targeting bargain-crazed shoppers.
Surveys and Statistics
We have a unique expression “to eat crow.” It means when you make a flat statement that you believe to be true but you later find out it isn’t, you are obligated to say those words were untrue, and you have to say them to the people you first said them to. Or at least that is how it works in my family. You “eat” your words, they don’t taste good, you “eat crow.”
So today I am eating some crow. Remember when I talked about Lies, Damn Lies and Statistics and I told you about a survey I had filled out about building management and maintenance? I was so cynical; I thought the survey was really going to be a marketing took, a pat-myself-on-the-back kind of thing. I was wrong.
Recently, a management team came to interview my husband and me, and as they are building more complexes like ours, they wanted our input – what was working and what wasn’t. They asked honest, open ended questions. And they weren’t just looking for the good things, they genuinely wanted to know the weak spots and criticisms.
Seeking critical input, as I see it, is a great strength. I don’t do it a lot. Just putting myself out here in the blog is risky enough for me. I’m not about to ask you all how I’m doing; I figure you have plenty of opportunity to tell me in the comment sections. If I DIDN’T get readers, I might wonder, but I think that since I am out there, you can take me or leave me, and I also figure some of you probably won’t like what you’re reading and go elsewhere. My initial reaction to criticism in denial. As the pain lessens, I can begin to evaluate more objectively and perhaps (insh’allah) learn from the criticism.
In the commercial world, customers going elsewhere is not a good thing. The building operators don’t have the luxury I have; if their customers go elsewhere, their investment goes bust. There are a lot of apartments and residential units going up in Kuwait – I admire this management team for intelligently seeking out what they are doing right, what they can do better, and what is hands down annoying. They asked about maintenance, security, internet connections, suggestions. Very open ended, very uncontrolled.
As they listened, they were writing things down. We had comments in multiple areas, and they listened, wrote, asked further questions. I’m impressed. This building isn’t bad, and I bet the next one is even better.
Anne Rice and Christ the Lord out of Egypt: A Novel
Remember Interview with a Vampire? Remember the feeling, as you read it, that you were probably treading very close to the essence of evil, and that evil was seductive and incredibly attractive? Anne Rice created a world of believable vampires, vampires you could identify with, vampires who created a cult following, and a legion of goth vampire wannabe’s, her prose was that seductive, that inviting, that . . . . irresistable.
Like a siren song, the voice pulled you from book to book, leading you along. With each book, a twist, and suddenly all the assumptions from the previous book were turned upside down, no longer valid when seen from another perspective. Rice lured you down the garden path step by step, and it’s hard to tell at what point you give up your will to resist the siren call.
Recently Anne Rice experienced a re-conversion to Christianity, and is now devoting her writing talents to serving God. This newest book, Christ the Lord out of Egypt, is as thoroughly researched as all the earlier books, and speculates on the early years of the Christ. The book opens in Egypt, with a seven year old Jesus, wise beyond his years but still a child. He sees things he doesn’t understand, he hears things he knows to be significant but doesn’t know why, and when he asks questions, like what happened in Bethleham around the time of his birth, Joseph and Mary, his parents, won’t answer. In fact, they don’t want him to bring up the subject at all, and they tell him they will give him the answers when he gets a little older.
Meanwhile, he hears things, and ponders them. He asks older relatives, and wise teachers. Little by little, he gathers pieces of a puzzle, the puzzle of his background and his identity. He accidently kills a playmate, and brings him back to life. He prays for snow, and it snows. He learns self control through the exercise of powers he doesn’t know he has, he learns to limit himself, and to hide himself.
With his family, they leave Alexandria and return to Jerusalem and then Nazareth, building a new life with their extended family. He grows, he ponders, and he is given a few more pieces of information.
You would think that with Anne Rice’s talent and with her research skills, this would be a fascinating book, but sadly, it is flat, and dull. I wonder why it is easy to make evil so seductively alluring, but it is so hard to bring goodness to life in a believable way? I read the book all the way through, hoping it would get better, but it never did.
There are people – Jan Karon comes to mind – who write about goodness and good people in a vibrant way, making goodness vital and attractive. Wish Anne Rich could find that vein.
Backing Against Hacking
This morning, a wonderfully quiet Friday morning in Kuwait*, I spent my time backing up all the entries in this blog. A fellow blogger, Fonzy went online to find his entire blog blank. Some mean-spirited hacker had gone in and wiped it out. Maybe those incapable of creating, destroy. I can’t imagine the nastiness it takes to wreck and destroy, to harm the innocent. I don’t want to try to wrap my mind around it, but I will take the warning.
Fortunately for the Fonz, he had back-up. Unfortunately for me, in spite of all my good intentions, I haven’t backed up in a long time. Months. So this morning I thanked God nothing had happened to my blog, and I backed it up.
It turned out to be kind of fun. I’d already forgotten some of the things I blogged about. Life moves on, and at such a rapid pace! And whew, now I am finished, at least for the time being. Thanks Fonz, for the reminder to back yourself up.
*For my non-Kuwait/non Middle Eastern readers, Friday morning is like Sunday morning in the western world. Relatively quiet, most people sleeping, not a lot of cars on the road – a day of rest.
Kuwait Police: One Reason to Love Kuwait
Today I was caught up in one of the traffic stops. It figures. Usually they just wave me through, but last night going out for dinner with my husband, I didn’t want to carry a purse so I asked him to carry my Kuwaiti residence card. See what I mean about “it figures?”
So I confidently handed the policeman a copy of my passport page, my medical card and my driver’s license.
“Madam,” he said with concern, “your license has expired!”
“Oh no!” I said. “No! Not really?”
“Yes! It expires 1-1-07 and it 07!”
“Yes! It is still 07! So it is still valid!”
“No, madam, if you have an accident it would be a big problem! You must get a new license!”
“I will tell my husband right away so I can get a new license.”
Actually, the new license is in progress, and I knew I was taking a chance driving on the expired, temporary license. I just hoped I wouldn’t get stopped. Now I just hope the new, permanent license comes through relatively quickly.
But here is what I love. In the US, police aren’t always so flexible. I might have had my papers taken and not have even been able to drive home with my groceries. This guy was polite, spoke English well (even though by all rights, I should be speaking Arabic with him) and he was even sympathetic. He was on my side, even though I didn’t have the right papers.
My husband says “He knows you can’t be held accountable because you are a only a woman, and therefore irresponsible.”
I know my feminist side should be offended, but I just sit here grinning.
Jean Plaidy and Courts of Love
My last day back in Seattle, I allowed myself a trip to the nearest Barnes and Noble. It was a shorter trip, only ten days, and full of family and family gatherings, centered around my father’s recent death. The days sped by, each full and exhausting.
I had already packed most of my bags. I do this so I know how much, if any, room I have. That way, I won’t buy too many books. I know myself. I know my vices. There is a part of me that says “how can there be too many books? How can there be too much of such a good thing?”
And then I am stuck trying to shovel books into an already overpacked suitcase, stuffing more into my stuffed backpack, shoving, re-arranging, tossing out old underwear to make way for yet another book.
I only bought a few books, one of which was Courts of Love by Jean Plaidy. If you follow this link, you will find many reviews of this book that disagree with my opinion, and gave this book almost five full stars.
I have always held Eleanor of Aquitaine in great awe. Born in the Languedoc region of France, she was raised in a court full of literature and poetry, visitors from distant places bringing news. She was educated, and exposed to rule. She was expected to inheirit the rich province of Aquitaine until a younger brother was born, but, as was not uncommon in the times, he succumbed to a childhood illness, and she once again became the inheiritor of a fabulously wealthy and desirable province, the Aquitaine.
And if being the inheiritor of Aquitaine wasn’t enough, she was also thin, and elegantly beautiful, and educated, and she had spirit. She never felt herself limited by being a woman.
She first married Louis, King of France, who was nowhere near her match. She insisted on accompanying Louis on his crusade to free Jerusalem (failed) and upon her return to France met Henry, the heir to the English throne, secured a divorce from Louis of France based on the fact that they were distantly related, and then quickly married Henry, who was even less distantly related. She did as she wished.
Henry was several years younger than Eleanor, and they were both full of fire, and ambition. They had force, and strategic vision; as a couple, they were unbeatable. Eleanor gave birth almost yearly, mostly sons, and was happy until she discovered her husband’s multiple infidelities. His inability to be a faithful husband created a bitterness in her heart, a wall between the two of them. From time to time, Henry had Eleanor imprisoned to keep her out of his way. He believed she had turned his sons against him. But many times, he would need her, and call her out of her captivity to help him. It’s a bitch, being married to a king.
Where am I going with this review, you might ask?
I finished the book, and all I can wonder is how Jean Plaidy took such a fiery woman, a sensual and vibrant woman, and made her so wooden? It must be some problem in me, as the other reviewers give the book a much higher rating than I would, and I wonder if they are confusing their awe with the subject (Eleanor) with the quality of the book?
Or maybe I have become so used to Phillipa Gregory’s treatment that I am spoiled for Jean Plaidy? When you read The Queen’s Fool, The Other Bolyn Girl and The Constant Princess you are there, you are in their world, feeling their thoughts. The dialogue is rich and lively, you are surrounded by sensory clues, smells, feels, tastes – the world is richly created, and when you finish the book, you feel like you have travelled in time, as if you were really there.
Not so with Courts of Love.
I would rate this book far lower, because I DO admire Eleanor of Aquitaine, and I think she deserves an equally lively, richly sensual treatment. I want to know her world, I want to peek inside her mind and experience a little of what she experienced. I want Philippa Gregory to write about Eleanor of Aquitaine! Jean Plaidy, in my opinion, took an extraordinary woman, and make her less vibrant, and just a little drab. A grave injustice, in my book!
Fairytale House in Mahboula
In one of those minor twists of fate, the mystery mansion in Mangaf is featured in today’s Kuwait Times as the Fairytale House In Mahboula. My bad. It probably IS Mahboula; I get those M-words confused sometimes.
I tried to look the entire article up for you online, but it isn’t there. The Kuwait Times online is funny that way, some articles are there, some aren’t. If you want to find out more about the house, you’ll have to buy today’s paper!
The article says it is owned by Mr. Adel Al-Sadoun, and there is a full page story with several interior shots as well as a garden shot of the entire front of the house. Mr. Al-Sadoun is quite a collector, and his mansion houses several collectionsm and shows one photo of him standing next to a complete set of European body armor. It also says he is retired, but isn’t he the astronomer and weather predictor the Kuwait Times quotes when forecasting long bouts of hot windy weather, or whether there will be enough rain for a good truffle season?
The home was constructed in 1997.
Kuwait Road Hazards
Leaving a meeting today, I needed to run an errand. Within one half hour the following had happend:
1. I almost crashed my car. Three lanes of traffic going one way and I see a huge pothole up ahead in my lane. Bus over to the right with a little red car behind him. Van with two delivery people considerably behind on left – Check rearview mirror, plenty of room on the left, signal my intentions, begin to move left and the little red car behind the bus to the right swerves WAAAYYYY left – almost into me, while the car behind on my left SPEEDS UP! Between swerving quickly to avoid the little red car and then again to avoid the one that had speeded up, I was lucky to maintain control.
Comment: Potholes are dangerous. And what is it with these little drivers who would speed up to get IN your way, rather than maintaining their speed?? It was grotesque!
2. Minutes later I am passed by a very “cool” biker, he has a helmet, but his helmet is buckled on the back of the bike, and his vulnerable little head is bent cooly over the handlebars. Aha! Red light ahead, I will catch up with him and suggest the helmet goes on the head. But no, Mr. Cool goes right through the red lights! (This was a light where the red light was functional; he just felt it didn’t apply to him.)
3. What is the problem with the traffic light fund in Kuwait? Several times recently, we have seen lights where the red light is no longer functioning, only the green light is either on, or nothing is on, so if you know the lights, you know to watch for the green light and stop if it is not green. But what if you are in a strange part of town and don’t know the lights? It is easy to go through a “red” light that no longer shows red.
It isn’t that hard! This is a rich country! Someone is in charge, aren’t they? Isn’t anyone accountable for something so important as maintenance of traffic lights? Don’t the traffic police report lights that are non-functional? These non-functioning traffic lights are invitations to fatal accidents.
Mangaf Mansion
Every time I see this house, I grin. I love it that someone has the money and the imagination to build exactly the house he wanted, and that he did it knowing he would probably get criticism. He built it anyway. Good on him.
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