More Kuwait

Our visit in Kuwait was short but our timing could not have been more perfect. It was by mere coincidence that we arrived on the same day as the 20th anniversary of the Iraqi invasion. This was the headline of the newspaper as we drove in the taxi to our hotel:

We also soon found out that the invasion happened across the street from our hotel, at the Sheraton. With very little warning, the tanks arrived in the middle of the night and the Sheraton guests were expected to leave the hotel. We heard of an American guy who arrived on August 3rd. It was his first time overseas and only hours after he arrived, he had to evacuate the hotel with no where to go. He slept in a park for a couple of days. I am guessing that was his last time visiting the Middle East.

One of Axel's friends who had lived in Kuwait during the invasion described the confusion and instability that happened after the announcement was made that Kuwait was being invaded. He said everyone rushed to the ATMs to grab their money until all the ATMS ran dry. Most Kuwaiti men abandoned their families and fled to Saudi Arabia. To this day, many women and children still hold anger in their hearts.

Axel's friend's wife was 8 months pregnant at the time and they could not leave the country. Everything was so unstable and people locked themselves in their houses and rationed food. There were no flights leaving Kuwait and the borders were secure. The OBGYN even advised him to get his wife out of the country in any way possible because the doctor himself was fleeing. With no other option, Axel's friend drove his wife and family to Baghdad, which was the closest, and ironically, the safest place to get a flight. When he left he had no idea if he would ever return to his home again. It was a long 8 months before he chanced returning back to Kuwait. It was a slow transition, but eventually, he rebuilt his life back in Kuwait.

It was an incredible night and I felt so fortunate to hear a first hand account of the Gulf War and its impact on those living in Kuwait. Amazing.

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Our hotel was also adjacent to the Filipino Souq. There were some good finds in there:

I was tempted to buy this shirt in case I am ever late for something. You know, just to make sure everyone knows that I am here now, now. For extra emphasis the tiny letters on the bottom say 'My Heart now.'

I was tempted to purchase this soap for each one of my children. I could give it to them on their first date, in front of their suitor. Just to be clear.

Axel and I visited the Sharq mall, which was quaint and fun. There were several stores I had never seen before with some really interesting fashion. All the clothing is unflattering and purposely made not to show a woman's figure. It is too bad because the styles and fabrics were cute, but in a tent-like style. If I was pregnant, or looking for a moo moo, I would have made a few purchases.

The best part about the Sharq mall is the setting. It is placed right on the corniche, which was smelly, but beautiful.

Kuwait is one of the dirtiest countries I have visited in the Gulf, which surprised me. In both Qatar and Dubai, you can almost eat off the public bathroom floors (no, I have not attempted this, but would be fine if I had to). Kuwait had more graffiti and visible garbage, which in some ways made the city feel more 'real' than other Gulf countries. Sometimes sterile makes things less interesting. Case and point - Nepal.

An insane Kuwaiti woman sitting in the 125 degree heat

The Kuwait Towers

Pottery Barn Kuwait

One of the most impressive sights in Kuwait is the Avenues Mall. The first phase is the only part that is complete, and there will be a total of 3 phases--4 miles in length. It is supposed to be the largest in the Gulf, which is saying a lot after being in Dubai. So many Western stores can be found at the Avenues, Build-a-Bear, Ikea, Pottery Barn, etc.

The Avenues has so many American stores that cannot be found in other Gulf countries. You can really see a strong US influence in Kuwait. Even the city planning seems more American than European (like it is in Qatar). It was also nice to see so many people treat American well--somewhat of a rare thing here in the Middle East.

And, that's Kuwait.

Kuwait Souq

I joined Axel on one of his business trips this week. He goes to these allusive places, so it is always nice to experience the countries in the flesh. I have always wanted to see Kuwait. I was a teenager of the '90s and the CNN coverage of Desert Storm piqued my interest. I have a lot of my dad in me--always wanting to walk into the fires.

There isn't a whole lot to Kuwait City. However, I think it has a lot more life to the city than Doha. Maybe it is because of its recent history, I don't know, but I think I would prefer it over Doha (other than the stinky sewage issues that are blatantly obvious in 120 degree weather). Axel was critical of Kuwait as a country, until we moved to Qatar and he officially claimed Qatar as the worst Gulf country--lucky us. Funny enough, I love my life in Doha, but my happiness comes from my immediate surroundings and our social network there, the city itself has little to offer.

Outside of the Avenues (arguably the coolest mall in all of the Gulf boasting all the American stores one expat woman could desire), there isn't a whole lot to do in Kuwait. We did, however, visit the Kuwaiti Souq, which is second to our Doha Souq, but still had life and all the oud Axel could possibly purchase.

Wandering the endless alleys was exhausting but every corner exposed a new group of specialized items. I loved the bright, white dishdasha section:

While we were walking this young man stopped us and asked Axel if he could speak 'American' to his little sister. The situation was quite awkward, but cute:

'How are you?

'What is your name?'

'Where are you from?'

'Do you like Kuwait?'

'Thank you, nice to meet you.'

'Good bye'

We were low on Kuwait Dinars so we asked for directions to an ATM from this kind Kuwaiti man. Overall, the locals are rather friendly. Like Bahrain, our taxi driver was a local Kuwaiti. The only difference is, Kuwait has a butt load of oil money. It just isn't equally distributed like it is in Qatar.

What I also loved about Kuwait is that the local women aren't only dressed in black abayas. They mix it up a bit with a different colored hijab and long sleeve shirts with floor length skirts. It makes fashion critiquing so much funner.

What would a good souq be without a fine selection of dates? They taste even better than they look!
The fish market was also a special experience, especially in blasting 125 degree weather. Think of it, dead fish, in intense heat, mixed with a fine raw sewage odor. It was delicious.

What is a good souq without a carpet selection? The carpets in Kuwait aren't as great as Bahrain, but I did happen to find a sweet kilim pillow for a 1/3 of the price they were asking in Qatar. The selection wasn't great, but it is always fun to stare at carpets, good and bad.

The trip was short, but really fun! I would love to visit again. I just may wait until the weather cools down to a balmy 100 degrees.

The Miracle that is Sarita

I really should be writing about our recent trip to Beirut, Spain, Andorra, and Damascus but I am experiencing something far more pressing--Sarita is leaving.

Sigh.

Breathe.

Ehem.

Resume.

Her ensuing absence is the reason for our quick excursion because I trust no one other than her with all of my children. It was our last hurrah.

Sarita has been a gem for our family. She is, arguably, my bestest friend. After spending almost 3 years of my life with her every single day how could she not? She has seen me on my good days, and on my bad. And somehow, she still loves me. That's unconditional love right there. Amazing.

When Sarita arrived at our home in Nepal she sat hunched over and barely spoke a word. She only arrived in Kathmandu weeks before after working in Kuwait for 5 years. She was on her vacation (only offered to maids in the ME every two years). She was too far from her village, so she stayed with her sister until it was time for her to return to Kuwait. Her sister wanted her to live closer and had heard of an American family looking for a nanny. Hence the reason why she sat on my couch that day.

As I looked at Sarita I wondered, could I handle having someone who doesn't speak a lick of English in my home? Could I handle staring at that horribly long hair (it was down to her butt, and she had no intentions of cutting it)? Could she handle our Type A personality family with her soft spoken nature? It was a gamble--a big one--but I was going to take a chance.

For months, she said nothing. She simply wanted to play with my children and took a special fondness to Asa. She spent every chance she could walking with him and strolling him around outside. I knew she had a good heart, but I wondered if we would ever be able to communicate.

Over time, after bits and pieces of her broken English, I find out she worked for a polygamist family in Kuwait, who had 10 children. She cared for the mother (a 400 pound woman who required a daily rub down on her body because of the many boils on her skin) and an ailing baby. She wore an abaya the entire time and was never really allowed out of the home. Strangely, to this day, she speaks fondly of the experience and smiles when talking about the baby she helped nurture. Her ability to see silver linings is amazing.

My love for Sarita grew as I began to understand her heart. She has an incredible calmness about her and is probably one of the most emotionally stable people I know. Her ability to love anyone is undoubtedly her greatest quality. In seeing this, I started to believe that she was meant for greater things. With that kind of patience and love, anything is possible.

We were determined to bring Sarita to Qatar. It wasn't easy, but by that point she was my rock. She was also my soundboard and I respected her thoughts and opinions. She also worked very hard and was fluent in English. She had the desire to learn and could say just about anything she wanted.

I started seeing a Sarita that had more potential and more abilities than the average nanny. I knew she was destined to be more than what she was. Throughout the months she lived in Doha, she began asking us about our church. I didn't want to push anything and therefore, was hands off. It wasn't until she asked about the BofM that I realized I wasn't playing a role in anything, she was going to do what she wanted. Every night she wanted to discuss philosophical things. She started asking so many questions and all we could do is simply answer them.

Around that time, Brad came along. She wanted to 'date' and understand boys a little more. This was huge for a Nepali girl. Most, if not all, Nepali girls are expected to have an arranged marriage and most don't even talk to boys until only a few weeks or days before their wedding. When we lived in Nepal Sarita barely spoke to Brad (despite his many efforts) because she was too shy. However, this trip she opened up. She was ready to understand more about men and what they thought. After he left she was devastated, but what she gained from the experience was life changing.

The new Sarita was growing everyday and as she was doing so, we decided to put her in a driving school. Why the hell not? She worked so hard for us every single day. It was one way for us to empower her. The confidence in herself grew and grew. She was budding before our very eyes. Many people scoffed and judgments were made, 'No maid should learn how to drive'. Honestly, at times, it seems like it is the 1930s here.

Over a short span of time Sarita changed dramatically. She was baptized, got her driver's license (no small feat in Qatar, especially for a Nepali woman), and found a man. Miraculous. Truly.

Sarita is leaving us this week to prepare for her wedding. I am trying to contain my sadness but I am not doing a very good job. I am devastated, but I completely understand that she is moving on to bigger, and much better things. She is better now than when I first met her. I know I didn't play a large role in the whole process, but I was lucky enough to witness it all. It is magic when good things happen to good people.

Our lives will change dramatically when she leaves. Asa will not take it very well when he asks 'where is my Sarita?' and she won't be there to answer. She says she woke last night crying because she will miss him so. It is a special bond, and I am saddened to watch it come to an end. No child can be loved by too many people.

In only a few weeks we will all be heading back to Nepal for her wedding. It should be a joyous occasion for us all. I am convinced that Sarita will always be in my life and from what she has done with her life within the short 3 years, I can't wait to see what her future will bring.

Love you, Sarita.

Why I Like Doha - Reason #2

It is no secret that one of the best parts about living overseas is the fact that you can have live-in help. When I first moved overseas I was hesitant about hiring extra help. It seemed wimpy and in my Mormon-wired brain I thought I was less of a woman if someone else did the cooking and laundry. It took me a day to get over it.

I have been through a few maids but when I find a keeper, life could not be better. Sarita, our maid from Nepal, has been with our family for two years now and I am SO thankful for her in our lives. She has been a source of strength and love in our home. She is exceptional at her job and is always the calm amongst the chaos. I don't know how she does it. She used to work for a Kuwaiti family who had 10 children (and that is just the beginning of the horror) for 5 years in Kuwait. She was on her holiday in Nepal when we found her. She was supposed to return to Kuwait, but we caught her just in time. How fortunate we were.

Our maid/nanny lives in our home 24/7. It takes some getting used to and for many people, it is too weird having extra bodies in the house. I don't notice it and considering they are there to help, I am just fine with it. Having maids also requires me to release all those control issues I have. I don't care if there is some dust in the corner because it isn't my job. I don't mind the messes because I know eventually, it will get cleaned. Sometimes clothing that shouldn't be put in the dyer does, or my clothing isn't put away in its proper order, but in the end, I don't care. It is getting done and it isn't me doing it. It is funny how having a maid has allowed me to accept imperfections a little more and keeps me a lot less stressed about the messes my kids make. Instead, I can engage in the messes without having to worry about the clean up. That is the best part.

People wonder what I do all day since I have two maids. I find this to be a rather funny question, because I am still a mother of 4 kids. Having maids just means that I have more time for them and myself. There are many opportunities to calmly sit and read to my children, or bake cookies, or teach them a new skill. I can also spend 2 hours in the gym with the ease of knowing my son is taking a nap and Sedona is playing with her ponies. Living overseas is very different from living back in the states and people expect you to have a maid. If you don't, your life would be infinitely more difficult. When in Rome....

There are times I miss doing the housework. This mainly happens when I feel out of control in my life. If I am frustrated or annoyed, I will pick up a mop or cook a meal. Housework is actually fun when it is a choice. I really noticed this when I was living without a maid for 5 months when we first moved to Doha.

I still require my children to help clean their messes and make their beds. Part of the maid's job is to ensure that they do not do things for my children that my children can do for themselves. My kids hate this part. They see so many other maids constantly picking up after the children. If my kids can do some of the work, they will. I also insist that my children respect our nanny and maid. This is a hard one for most children in the Middle East.

There are a lot of downsides to maids, especially if you get the wrong one. They can be the source of great frustration and mistrust. Maids are the central point of discussion amongst expat women. Whether they are looking for one, or dislike the one they have, there are always issues to discuss. You also hear horror stories of maids sleeping around with the maintenance man, or leaving your children unattended while they engage in illegal behavior. That is why when you find one you trust and like, you must do everything to keep her.

It is rare to have two maids, but since we started having two maids three years ago, it is hard to go back. It is nice to know that they can support each other and they have a friend to talk to. It is nice that they can work in tandem and have a break every now and then. It works well for us for a number of reasons. In the past we have had difficulties finding a second maid, but I am so thankful that we inherited Meena. (Thanks, Amber). Sarita and her have great synergy.

Maids are not for everyone, but I am thankful I have two and it works well in my home. I am especially glad that I have the help while raising small children. It is a beautiful thing.

Qatar

As of yesterday, it is official.  We are moving to Doha, Qatar.  It is a small country on the Persian Gulf.  It is surrounded by Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, and the UAE (Dubai).  The move doesn't have anything to do with the safety issues in Nepal.  Axel was offered a promotion.  He will be the Country Manager over 4 countries (Bahrain, Oman, Kuwait and Qatar).  Careerwise, it is a good move for our family.  

Axel and I went to visit this past weekend and what a change.  It took us the whole time to get over the culture shock.  I think it was worse knowing that we were going to actually move there.  Although it is so much like Dubai (but smaller) I still couldn't visualize our family living anywhere else outside of Nepal.  Even knowing my life in Dubai, I have been forever changed since I have lived in Nepal.  

I would be lying if I said I was overly excited about the move.  Yes, Doha has electricity; yes, it has clean water; yes, it has beaches and civilization; and no, it doesn't have visible garbage.  However, there is a soul that is missing.  I have realized I am a Third World kind of gal.  I enjoy the messiness and chaos that is Nepal.  I knew my stay here would not be forever, but I can't help but be saddened that it ended much too quickly.  

During our trip to Doha we looked for housing and schools.  Despite the economic downturn, and unlike Dubai, Qatar has a very healthy and growing economy.  Housing is extremely expensive (our temporary 3 bedroom apartment will cost the same as our 10 bedroom house here).  The schools are packed and despite the $16,000 tuition per kid, no more applications are accepted.  Children are put on a waiting list the year before they begin class.  It has been discouraging.  We may put the kids in a well-known Lebanese private school.  We will see.  School starts in two weeks.  

We will be bringing our one didi, Sarita.  She lived in Kuwait for 5 years before she worked for us.  She is familiar with the Middle East and has family that lives there.  Kopila decided she wanted to stay in Nepal and we have found her a US family who will employ her in October.  Axel has worked something out for the rest of our staff.  We will be bringing our driver, Devendra, when Axel's visa is completed and we have living quarters for him.  Devendra also has a brother in Qatar.    

I was a little comforted during our visit because I saw so many Nepalese people.  They have the highest concentration of Nepalis per capita in the world.  I seemed to use 'Namaste' far more than 'Salam Alaykum' during my visit.   I don't appreciate the Nepali people nearly enough.  They are humble, kind, and good-hearted people.  I just wanted to hug every single Nepali I saw.  I am glad I will be surrounded by them in Doha.  

The transition won't be fun, but I am used to it.  I am excited about the new adventure but a huge piece of my heart is in Nepal.  The chances of me ever returning to this country are small.  Maybe to visit, never to live.  I will miss the people, the weather, and the colourful soul of Nepal.  We will be making the move in about a week and a half.  I must absorb all of Nepal's goodness.  From today, the heat is on.  

Literally.   

Dilly's 4th

Sedona finally had a birthday a few days ago. Ever since her last birthday she would declare that her celebration was next. It seemed like August would never come. The funny thing was, as soon as her day arrived, she almost became too shy with all the attention. Attention isn't given too often to the middle child. It seemed like a good idea in theory, but why are all these people staring at me?????

Her day began with presents. She received the coolest assortment of Melissa and Doug food, which is something she loves. She makes a mean prawn sushi, but tell her to hold on the wasabi. It can be overpowering to the palate.
Hours later we held a swim party with all the traditional summer crap food (hot dogs, chips, and popsicles). It was a little risky providing food because it was in the middle of Ramadan. I was praying the food police would not arrive and jail us all. Yummy and illegal.

Sedona's cake was chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, with chocolate butter cream. She insisted on this particular cake over any other cheesy princess or castle cake. For 40 riyals at Carrefour, I was not going to argue.

I planned two activities for the party. One was water balloons and the other was a bunch of balls that could be chucked at any small child with very little damage. The small balls were exciting for about 2 minutes until they all drifted to the corner of the pool never to be played with again. Brilliant.

The party was also a great opportunity for me to catch up with my girlcation friends. One went to Bali, the other to Holland during the summer with their families. I tried to tell them that Kuwait was WAY more fun, but they were not convinced. That's what I get for trying to make them jealous.

It was 3 and 4 year old madness with smashed cake and half drank bottles of juice everywhere. Most importantly, I think Sedona had the best time. She was thrilled to see all her friends and share her special day. My life has never been the same since you were born, Dilly Do. Here's to a new year of bigger smiles and longer hair! Love you.

Laughing at Dr. Dolittle

For the past three months my hunting starved husband has been trying to capture a dove in our backyard, because that is fun...for Axel. Every time I cleared the table and threw out the leftovers I was quickly chastised for throwing away perfectly good rice when, um, don't I know, it is the best dove bait.

Every single day Axel had a new and cunning plan for capturing the highly coveted dove. The obsession was rather strange to me because when we were first married Axel bought me two doves to represent our union. It only took us a few days to figure out that they hated each other entirely. And when I say hate, I mean despise completely. The male would constantly peck her and slap her with his wing. Finally, she didn't stand for it any longer and in return, she did the same to him. We had no TV at the time so the dysfunctional lovers quarrel would keep us thoroughly entertained evening after evening. We eventually locked them in the bathroom because the fights would get so loud and dirty. They worst pets we ever owned, which are powerful words spoken by the wife of Axel Bromley. They were aptly named Tina and Ike.

And yet, my husband had to cage a dove. For what satisfaction I am not sure. I think I have too much estrogen to ever figure it out.

Day after day I would witness a roadrunner/coyote interplay between Axel and the many doves that visited our backyard. Axel was convinced that Qatari doves were several IQ points above the average doves he had encountered in his lifetime. He was genuinely offended when sparrows would wander into his cage, it was a mockery in his eyes. I literally heard him say, 'those doves are laughing at me right now.' As he hung his head in shame.

The cat and mouse routine ended the day Axel finally go his African Grey, Horus. The cage was turned back up, string back around the spool and curtains were fully drawn. Axel claimed defeat. The pesky doves won the battle.

And then...

today Asa yelled at me while I was upstairs claiming that the bird was playing the piano. It wasn't that unusual since he has been enamored by Horus ever since the day we bought him. I didn't think too much of it until the sound of his voice claimed urgency, and when I looked at Asa he was pointing to the curtain rod. Sure enough there sat a dove, comfortable and complacent. It would have been wonderful if Axel was present, but he just happened to be in Kuwait today and he missed the whole thing.

I could have been a great wife and trapped the bird for Axel's satisfaction. I suppose Axel could have observed the bird for a few days and then set it free, but I figured I already had 2 Gouldian Finches, a canary and a parrot. I think I fulfilled my fowl requirements already. Plus, if my maid saw the additional bird in our home she just might have walked out never to be seen again. How much bird poop does one woman have to clean? It wasn't a risk I was willing to take.

Because of the timing, the bird flew to freedom. Did he know how close he came to capture? I am not sure but the last noise I thought heard from his tired little body was 'suck-er'.

Telephone

Remember the game? I played it yesterday, only using different languages:

English - Axel called to tell me he won't be coming home at his usual 6pm. I needed to relay the message to my guards, otherwise they would be waiting for him at the front gate. Not knowing Nepali, I told Haleni.

Indonesian - When I told Haleni, I spoke in Indonesian. I told her that she needed to tell our new maid, Sureta, the message so she could tell the guards.

Arabic - Suresta is Nepalese but she just arrived from working in Kuwait so she knew Arabic. Suresta doesn't know any English, just Arabic and Nepali. Haleni worked in Saudi Arabia for a couple of years so Haleni told Suresta in Arabic.

Nepali - Suresta then told our guard, who speaks nothing but Nepali, that Axel will be late and they won't need to wait for him at 6pm.

At 6pm, no guard was waiting at the gate. Mission accomplished.

Arabian Oud

This is Axel again. I have always loved incense since I went to BYU. Nepal was a great place to get great incense for next to nothing.

The Arabs here in the Gulf however like to burn something called Oud, which means 'wood'. This comes from the Aguilera or agarwood trees which grows in the jungle. The tree is not good for much as it is a soft wood. However some of them are infected by a fungus that will kill the tree. The tree naturally makes a resin to fight the fungus and it is that resin that smells so good.

The Nguyen dynasty in Vietnam first discovered this and traded with China and it was basically the thing that made Vietnam rich back then. It was then discovered in India, Indonesia, but the best stuff comes from Laos and Cambodia.

When the Arab traders started visiting Malaysia and Indonesia, they started the trade with the Middle East and supplimented the already booming Frankincense and Myrrh trades (which I am not too fond of either one). Both are found in the Middle East in Oman and Yemen. Myrrh is actually just a pine like resin.

This is a typical Oud (or Bukary in Kuwait) shop. Perfumes which are oil based (remember no alcohol in Islam - even in the perfume) are also sold. You can see the good stuff below in glass cases. I am haggling for a better price, but this stuff is pretty set. You pay it or don't buy it.

There are so many different kinds of smells and types of the Oud. Some are enhanced by perfumes and those are the cheap ones. The expensive ones look more like dead wood and have a more woody rich smell. I love the ones that smell like that, but Terah prefers the ones that smell more perfumey. Which is good for me because that is the cheap stuff. There are also supposed to be differences between Oud that was from the forest and the stuff that is grown and intentionally infected with the fungus on agarwood farms.

It is sold by the 'tola' which is as near as I can tell is about 10 grams. You can see them weighing it out here and I am telling the guy to put some extra on for free. Cheap stuff is about 6-7 bucks a tola. Expensive stuff is more expensive than gold or diamonds. The Arabs will pay it. The really rich ones actually have agents who live in the forests and when a villager finds a good tree these agents buy everything off them, grease the officials and ship the whole tree to the private buyers. Japanese are also very much into this and therefor the bidding war for really good oud can get quite serious.

So many choices. So little money Terah will let me spend....

The mother load of cheap stuff. Found only in Kuwaiti outdoor souq markets (Heritage Souq).
THis is my holder. You can see me burning the charcoal. The charcoal gets red and then the wood is added to the top of the red charcoal and it starts smoking away.

I used a normal lighter until I got sick of burning my fingers and then I found one of those cigar blow torches. Just call me the Ghost Rider...

It is a whole process. I must admit that my male genetic disposition to want to burn stuff probably helps my love of doing this. And flaming stuff with a blow torch doesn't hurt. You can see from above my own collection. It represents about 200 bucks or so.

The good stuff. This was from a natural tree in the forest found in Cambodia. It is very light and probably weighed less than half or quarter of a pound. That piece Terah is holding sells for 1600 - 2000 USD. A bit more expensive than a quarter pounder happy meal. It goes up from there.

Wish this blog had scratch and sniff capabilities, but if you have ever been to the Middle East and walked through a mall then you know the smell well! At least the smell of the cheap stuff they burn to attract you in!