KaleidoKleio

Can't think of a fancy title

2010-01-10T11:14:00.003+03:00

I keep attempting to start blogging again and clearly my attempts are not working! I have three or four draft posts just sitting there since my last "I'm back" post but I've never gotten around to finishing them. Life is simply too busy at the moment.

But I just got a comment on a very old post so I published it and then decided that since I'm in here, I may as well say something!

I just got back to London yesterday after the Christmas holiday, but this time I came back alone. P is starting a new job in Kuwait this month, and he and our baby Thunder have moved back there. I'll be following them once I'm done with the semester, around early May. I can write from anywhere but I'm teaching three undergrad courses this year so I need to stay in London until the teaching term is over. It sucks that we have to be apart for these three to four months, but it's necessary for both of our careers so we decided that we can get through it. These next few months are crunch time for me anyway, so I guess this way I can just totally immerse myself in writing and teaching with horse-blinders on and plough through. But I miss looking up from my desk and seeing P sitting at his desk working, with little Thunder curled up on his red pillow next to P's computer.

I'm sad that our life in London is coming to a close, and we're definitely going to miss our amazing little flat here and our lovely neighbourhood and daily routine. But I think I can honestly say for the first time in maybe four years that I am actually looking forward to moving back to Kuwait. There are a lot of exciting things going on right now that I want to get involved with. Kuwait has a lot of potential, particularly in individual people who are doing interesting things, and we need to find a way to really harness all this potential and make a change. And I really feel like Kuwait is slowly changing and I want to come back and be a part of it, because change can go either way and the more of us there are pushing for good, the better chance we have of getting Kuwait out of the mess that it's in. I'm sick of being negative about Kuwait and want to go back to feeling positive about it (the way I used to feel years ago), and rather than focusing on the things I hate I want to start concentrating on how I can perhaps contribute to fixing it. I had many conversations with people over this break about ideas and projects and things to work on when I'm back, and I'm eager to get started.

So that's it for me for now. I have tons of work to do today as I'm teaching a new class starting tomorrow and need to plan out my first lecture. I don't know if this post means I'm going to start posting again - chances are it just means that I'm procrastinating!!

I'm back (I think)

2009-07-31T03:13:00.005+03:00

OK so it seems like there are still some of you out there who might be interested in reading this space again, so I thought I'd start with a bit of an update on what's happened in my life since my last post.

Biggest news is that my P and I got married last August (so, very nearly a year now)! We are now both living in London, and I have about another year left until I finish up my PhD. I'm in full-on writing mode now, which is exhausting and intense but really satisfying and exciting. P is working as a free-lance graphic designer here, which means he also works from home. So it's amazing that during our first year of married life together we get to both work from home and spend this kind of time together. It's also great because generally our time is our own - although we both work in front of our computers for at least six to ten hours per day, if we decide we want to blow off a morning and work late at night instead, we can.

And to complete our domestic bliss we now have a little guy in our lives (no, not a baby) - a half-Bengal five-month old kitten named Thunder. We have become a pair of obsessive doting parents who talk about our baby with each other when we're not home. If you saw how cute this little creature is, you'd totally understand!

Anyway, we're living in a completely different part of London now from where I used to live before I left for fieldwork. It's an amazing area - one that P and I actually discovered together a few years ago. It's right by the river (on the south side) and is a lovely part of town to live in, and we spend many an evening taking long walks up and down the river discovering new secret sides to this city. We're also closer now to all of our favourite places in London, like the Borough Market, which is very important seeing as food has become such a dominant force in our lives! Most evenings are spent together in the kitchen coming up with new recipes and eating proper home-cooked dinners. (I may start a recipe section on this blog if this re-attempt at posting regularly works out.)

Oh, and my sister "Lola" (formerly known as "Raine" here) is now doing her PhD in London too (although she lives with her husband in Windsor), and it's amazing having her here now too!

So that's my update. Those of you reading this who know me in person are probably disappointed at this boring post, but I promise to try and be more interesting in my next ones! Meanwhile, in the past year or so since I stopped posting I have actually met one or two of my former regular readers; so much for thinking I was being 'anonymous' all along! Seriously though, I know my identity is hardly disguised anymore, and over the years I have shared enough information about myself on this blog for anyone in a society as small and incestuous as Kuwait to find out who I am if they were so inclined! But despite this fact, I am going to remain posting as Kleio and maintain 'anonymity' on this blog solely for academic purposes, in that I don't want my real name, in which I write and publish academically, to be linked to a personal blog in cyberspace. But I am very aware of the fact that most of the people who read this now know me as who I really am, and that's absolutely fine with me!

Testing

2009-07-31T02:47:00.002+03:00

Testing...testing...is there anybody out there? I haven't posted in over a year so I highly doubt anyone is still checking in here, but I will post this anyway just in case I do get a response. I have been toying with the idea of starting up this blog again but I have a sinking feeling I am talking to myself.

My Comeback Post

2008-05-06T23:22:00.011+03:00

It's been ages since I last posted, and this blog has more or less died since I came back to Kuwait last summer. But today I checked my blog Email for the first time in months and found a handful of Emails from old readers/commentators and one or two comments that I hadn't posted. So I looked through my blog again and realized that I actually miss posting every now and then. The problem is, I simply don't have the time to post these days. My days are spent conducting my doctoral fieldwork in the mornings and afternoons, and then when I get home in the evenings I usually write or spend time with my P (who is usually equally busy). The research part includes constant reading, regular meetings, the perusal of mountains of documents, non-stop note-taking, as well as my fieldwork journal which I keep to document my day-to-day experiences while conducting research. In terms of writing, at the moment I am editing/fine-tuning three specific papers for different purposes, as well as getting down random dissertation thoughts and mini-"sections". In between that I'm trying (not tremendously successfully) to go to the gym, and every now and then there is a worthwhile event going on around town that gets me to leave my flat and actually engage in some non-fieldwork human interaction (art exhibitions, dinners at Edo, gatherings at friends' places, weekend morning brunches by the sea, desert treks). But these are quite few and far between!

But there is something else that I do quite regularly as well. At least once every two or three days I find myself going out on an excursion to explore more and more of Kuwait. Sometimes I'll drive around and discover new hidden sites by car, but more often I prefer to explore by foot (which is becoming less doable now that it is practically summer). The wonderful places and things I discover in the nooks and crannies of this country are what keep me sane. My private adventures around Kuwait (sometimes accompanied by my P when he finishes work in the evening or on weekends) make me feel so happy and so sad at the same time. They provide me with a tremendous sense of purpose, and an inexplicable sense of loss. I guess that explains in a nutshell everything I've been feeling about Kuwait over the past nine months since I've been back.

I did get a break from my fieldwork routine a couple of weeks ago. First I went to California for a conference for five days, which was an amazing trip on many levels (not least because the exact area I was in was once home to me but I hadn't been back there since 1996). Then on my way back I stopped in London for a couple of days to do a bit of research, meet with my supervisor, and see some friends. It was great being back and it felt like I hadn't left. I've really missed London and I just loved walking down the street in the rain with my iPod on, going about my normal routine. I can't wait to move back in a few more months.

I thought I'd end this comeback post with a few pictures. I just love the mix of places my research takes me to. All of the photos below were taken within the span of ten days.

19 April 2008: Newport Beach, California on a beautifully sunny but brisk day. The icy blue Pacific was chock full of sail boats.

23 April 2008: Greenwich, UK on a chilly and rainy day when the sun suddenly appeared out of nowhere and made the wet green grass sparkle magically.

30 April 2008: Bneid Algar, Kuwait in the midst of an orange sandstorm like none I've ever seen. The first photo was taken from the parking lot of the building I was about to enter, before the storm hit that precise spot. In the minute it took me to ride the elevator up to the 7th floor the storm blew right past us.

A Very Orla Christmas

2007-12-25T23:17:00.000+03:00

This post is a follow-up to my last Oral Kiely post, which is nearly two months old.

Today is Christmas, and for those of you that don't know, my family goes all out at Christmas. Now, I never actually got to order the Orla Kiely tent like I'd wanted to a couple of months ago. But no matter! For my Christmas present, my fabulous sister Raine got me the entire Orla Kiely camping set I posted about!! I got a tent, a sleeping bag, the wellies, and the lantern! As I mentioned in my post, practically everywhere online was sold out of the sleeping bag. How'd she get it you ask? Her wonderful mother-in-law, who is English, went to her local Millets in her town in England and bought it all and sent it to Kuwait! There was only one sleeping bag left in stock, so Raine bought an orange sleeping bag for my P that matches the whole set (besides, an Orla Kiely sleeping bag might be a bit too feminine for a guy to sleep in!).

She also got me and P a bunch of camping stuff to go with it - canteens, camping pots & pans, camping cutlery, a picnic mat, a mini barbeque, and all the fixin's to make 'smores (marshmellos, Hershey's chocolates, and graham crackers), as well as hot chocolate. Time to go camping...maybe Oman?

By lovely coincidence, as part of his gift to me, my P got me a gorgeous picnic basket. It is the perfect set - ideal for lovely afternoons up in Hampstead Heath (not so much for Green Island!). He really hit the nail perfectly on the head with this gift - it is just so me!

I won't go into detail on the rest of our family's Christmas gift exchange. Suffice it to say, it was a good one all 'round! Merry Christmas everybody!

P.S. In keeping with the title of this post, I will mention that my sister "Red Riding" also got me a fabulous Orla Kiely present for Christmas - a gorgeous bag and matching wallet, as well as an umbrella. See, it was a very Orla Kristmas! My collection is growing! *..* (<-- Only a privileged few will get this.)

P.P.S. For Halloween, my P and I dressed as Druids and built a replica of Stone Henge in our backyard for a Halloween party Raine and I threw for her birthday (which was on the 27th). Our Stone Henge was fantastic, if I do say so myself (although P did most of the work, but I was right there next to him helping out all through the night!). Anyway, I think it would be cool for us to put Stone Henge back up in the backyard and then roll out the sleeping bags and camp out amidst the stones! Our neighbours might think we're nuts, but who cares?!

Orla Kiely Genius

2007-11-05T05:13:00.000+03:00

Orla Kiely is my favourite designer of all time. Everything about her designs and styles is just 100% me - from her bags and wallets to the interior design of her flagship Monmouth Street store. One of my favourite ways of spending a Saturday afternoon in London was to buy a coffee from the Monmouth Coffee Co. and then visit the Orla store next door and just walk around and enjoy all the designs around me. The colours and patterns of Orla Kiely are the perfect representation of the way I've always imagined my ideal world to be inside my own head.

Unfortunately, most of her stuff is outside my budget. I absolutely adore her clothing line but I simply can't afford to spend £200 on a single skirt. I have managed to buy myself a gorgeous wallet, and a pair of blue Orla designed Superga plimsolls which were only £50. And, my sister "Red Riding" bought me a gorgeous teal "hold-all" Orla Kiely bag last Christmas which I carry to university and now to work (it holds my PowerBook). So I guess I am gradually building up my collection.

This summer I happened to be walking by Millets in Salisbury when my eyes caught something that nearly made me fall over. There in the window of the sporting goods store was an Orla Kiely patterned camping set! Orla teamed up with Millets to create a range of funky camping gear in anticipation of the summer's festival season. There was a tent, a sleeping bag, a pair of Wellies, and a couple of little accessories. My initial instinct was to buy it all on the spot. But my conscience (in the form of my more sensible half) reminded me that my shipment to Kuwait was already full and it wouldn't be practical to buy this all right before moving back. So it was decided that I'd order it online once I got back to Kuwait, and so that I wouldn't have to leave the store empty-handed I bought the Orla printed battery-free flashlight.

And yes, I know that I've never been camping before but perhaps with the perfect camping gear I'll be more inclined to actually go camping! And there's always my backyard. However, depressingly, the sleeping bag is no longer available anywhere online. I've searched high and low and even contacted my friends in the Monmouth Street store (they know me well) and they don't carry it. The tent is still available so I just ordered it. But I am sad about the sleeping bag. Oh well.

Next summer we are so going to Glastonbury.

He-llo!

2007-10-19T01:28:00.000+03:00

Yesterday (Wednesday) morning my phone rang as I was getting ready to head out, and it was a familiar but unsaved landline number (beginning with a 25- so Kuwait City). I answered with the usual sounding "hello" I give to unknown numbers, which sounds different from the hello I use when people I know are calling me. The tone of my hello to the unknowns is actually something that I found myself picking up after living in London - it's a very English-style sing-song "he-llo?!" (think of it going down in tone on the first syllable and then up on the second). Much to my surprise, I got the exact same "he-llo!" back! It was an English accent on the other end of the line, with a lady asking, "May I please speak to [my name]?" For a few seconds, I felt like I was back in London. I certainly was not expecting to receive a call first thing in the morning from someone with a proper English accent, and I know it might sound silly but it really started my morning off right. I miss England, I miss the English, I miss the English accent, and were it not for my daily podcast downloads I fear I would start prank-calling random London phone numbers just to feel closer to them. And I actually ended up having a really good day yesterday - perhaps one of the best I've had so far since I've moved back. Go figure.

It was a (social) call from the British Embassy, by the way.

Fallon Genius

2007-10-10T03:27:00.000+03:00

I've dedicated two posts in the past to the Sony Bravia adverts done by the international advertising firm Fallon - one on the bouncing balls ad and another on the next paint explosions ad. Well, the third "Colour...like no other" ad is out and this time its play-doh. But instead of simply writing this post about the new ad, I thought I would take this opportunity to celebrate Fallon's work in general, since they have been producing some of my favourite ads of all time lately. So, to begin...

...let's all take a moment to enjoy this brilliant new Cadbury's Dairy Milk ad. I think this is simply genius. I'm not going to get into a long discussion on what or why. I get it (that there really isn't anything to "get"), and I adore it, and most of the people I know who have seen it have had the same reaction to it. What a fantastic job. The idea is hilarious, and the passion in the gorilla's face and body language is just...inspiring! Cadbury's took a huge risk, and hit it spot on. And yes, this was done by Fallon - specifically by Juan Cabral.

Fallon's work in general is always amazing, so let me show you some of my particular favourites from recent months. There is this magical ad for the Skoda Fabia that makes me feel as gleeful as a child running down a rolling green hill. They also do the ads for Orange in the UK, and I really loved their latest campaign, specifically the Pay Monthly, Reserve Tank, and the Gigs and Tours ads. They are simple and lovely, and have a sense of innocence about them. In short, they make me want to switch from Vodafone to Orange.

And now we come to the latest in the Sony Bravia series.

I'm sure all of you are familiar with the bouncing balls and paint explosion ads by now (if not you can view them through the links provided in my old posts which are linked at the start of this post). This one is just as perfect, creative, and effective. First, it was thousands of little coloured balls bouncing down the streets of San Francisco. Then, it was a couple of apartment complexes exploding into bright bursts of paint in Glasgow. This time around, it's hundreds of coloured play-doh bunny rabbits (and one giant one) hopping through the streets of Manhattan. It's really well done. You want to stick your hand through the screen and grab one of the little bunnies and feel the squishy texture. And at one point they all roll together into a giant wave and the break is such a great moment.

One of Fallon's greatest strengths is their fabulous music selection, and this ad does it again. This time, they used the perfectly fitting "She's a Rainbow" by the Rolling Stones. You simply can't go wrong with 1960s Rolling Stones. When the ad started, the music immediately took my mind and heart back to my childhood (not in the sixties of course, but I became indoctrinated into the sounds of the 1960s British Invasion from a very early age, in my single digits) - and I thought that was very fitting considering the play-doh theme. I love the ad. It speaks for itself, just as the other two did. And again, you don't know it's for Bravia until the very end (well, Bravia ad fans will immediately identify some trademarks of creative genius, but, again, you never feel as though someone is trying to sell you something).

My favourite of the Sony Bravia ads is still the bouncing balls one though. It was the most magical and literally left me speechless when I first saw it. And, of course, the music selection in that one was perfect too.

FYI - most people don't know that the song on that ad, "Heartbeats", was not originally done by José González (the version used in the ad). It was originally released in 2003 by Swedish electro-indie-pop band The Knife. Their original version is fantastic and if you haven't heard it already you should certainly check it out (watch/download).

Coffee and Tea

2007-09-26T00:30:00.000+03:00

My P just surprised me with this Nespresso machine for my birthday! I have wanted one of these for ages and now I finally have one. The colour is delicious - it looks a bit more teal in real life than it does in this picture, which looks more baby blue - and it's just edible. He also got me the Nespresso Aeroccino milk frother for cappuccinos and lattes. Plus he also got me this amazing carrying case for the machine - to use if I want to take it anywhere (like to the chalet).

I love Nespresso. Their coffee is delicious, the process is so quick and convenient, and the machine itself is gorgeous. Plus the accessories that go along with it are just fabulous! Talk about creating a massive cornucopia of paraphernalia for something as simple as coffee, and boy am I buying into it. This really is the perfect coffee solution for the home or office. It takes ten seconds to make an espresso and there is minimal cleaning involved. The best part is that whenever I'm out of coffee (they have 12 different types of Premium Blends) I can simply call the Nespresso office here and have them delivered to my house.

I love kitchen and home appliances. This is the next item on my list:

It's a Goblin Teasmade. For those of you who don't know what a Teasmade is, it is an alarm clock with a built-in kettle that will have your cup of tea ready for you by the time the alarm goes off in the morning. How brilliant is that?! Check out some pictures of really old vintage ones here. Some were really elaborate, complete with bedside table lamps. There are a couple of brands like Swan and Micromark that still make and sell Teasmades, but I want to get my hands on a Goblin like you see in the photo above. I think this is one for James O'Brien's Treasure Hunt.

Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat...

James on LBC

2007-09-23T20:03:00.000+03:00

When I moved to London two years ago, quite early on I became a regular listener of James O'Brien's show on London's LBC 97.3 (talk radio), which I listened to on my white Tivoli Audio iPal radio (pictured above - it's one of my favourite possessions so had to throw it in). James is on LBC every weekday from 10am-1pm, which was around the time I would be starting my day - taking a shower, getting dressed, checking Email over coffee - before heading out of my flat either to my university or the library or to run errands. Being the perpetual student that I am I was never in a hurry to leave the flat except during my MA year during which I had an 11am class two days a week. But other than that, my mornings were my leisure hours. So I thoroughly enjoyed taking my time getting started with James on in the background. It's amazing how something/someone like that can become such a familiar part of your daily routine. I laughed out loud at least once almost every morning. I talked back to the radio regularly. I called out "Yes! Absolutely!" on many occasions. And of course I got my regular news, travel, and weather updates so by the time I left the house I felt generally up-to-date even before grabbing my Guardian from Sainsbury's around the corner. Anyway, point is, I just really enjoyed listening to James' show nearly every morning for two years. It was entertaining, interesting, informative, and fun - and he and I seem to have very similar opinions on most issues, both trivial and serious. I've been in Kuwait for a month now and suddenly today I realized that I really miss James. I miss his humour and his common sense take on controversial issues. I miss his callers - the cabbies and the old ladies, the men in echoey parking garages and the nutters with moldy jelly in the fridge.

So I've decided to subscribe to LBC Plus online so that I can download a podcast of the show everyday. I can either listen to the show live online (for free) or download the podcast to listen to on my iPod in my car throughout the rest of the day. The show is three hours long so I guess I can continue listening to it the following morning as I get ready to leave the house, as per my usual London routine. Anyway, the subscription costs £4 a month which is nothing, and I just listened to half of Friday's show and it already makes me feel so much closer to London again. Maybe this will serve as a panacea for my homesickness.

Here's a sample of the show with the now infamous Gary on James' "Quiz of the Week" for your entertainment.

Update: OK this might not have been the best idea. For the past two days now I've been listening to James in the car while stuck in inevitable Ramadan traffic going to work, while out running errands, with P when we go out at night, etc. It's been great because it's really made me feel closer to London, has kept me up-to-date on the insider Londoner news (trivial and otherwise) that I don't get in the online newspapers I read, and has made me laugh on several occasions in the car thereby distracting me from the normal frustrations of driving in Kuwait. However, the downside has been that once in a while when I'm stopped at a traffic light I'll happen to glance over at the car next to me distractedly while listening to one of James' callers and my eyes will fall on a sullen-looking cone-head with a thick layer of war paint on her face, and it's like someone has popped the balloon and I come hurtling back down to reality. Or James will mention the rain they've been getting and the fact that he has turned on the heater in his house for the first time since May, and then I'll park and open my car door and the hot, dry air will attack me and wake me up. Oh dear.

One month

2007-09-21T17:06:00.000+03:00

I miss London. I miss every single thing about the city. I miss the constant chill and the incessant rain. I miss walking home in the dark early evening and picking up some dinner from Sainsbury's. I miss the Christmas decorations that will be going up on Oxford Street ridiculously early in about a month. I even miss the noxious smell of my little street as I walk home at night. I miss having coffee and a croissant at Maison Bearteaux in Soho in the morning. I miss the smell of spilled beer on old carpet. I miss cursing at tourists who stop dead in their tracks at busy intersections and who stand on the left on tube escalators. I even miss watching out for the inspector on the 73 bus. I miss laying on my couch watching mindless television. I miss my flat - oh boy do I miss my lovely flat. I miss looking up and seeing Anthony Gormley's figure staring down at me. I miss John standing outside the shop smoking a cigarette and saying "y'aright?" to me as I walk up to my front door. I miss having a toastie at the Fopp café (although that one is moot since Fopp tragically shut down). I miss the south of the river. I miss everything. I want to go back.

"Teenage Winter" - Saint Etienne (download)

Pass It On

2007-09-17T11:48:00.000+03:00

"Pass the parcel.
That's sometimes all you can do.
Take it, feel it and pass it on.
Not for me, not for you,
but for someone, somewhere, one day."

-Hector in "The History Boys"

Burger Hub Review: Take Two

2007-08-29T16:26:00.000+03:00

Exactly one year ago I wrote a rather long, rather thorough review of the Burger Hub in Kuwait City. In that review, I presented a point-by-point assessment of what I considered to be constructive criticism for a place that showed a tremendous amount of potential, but that I thought just missed the mark in a few key areas. Well, after hearing from several people that they had really improved, I decided to go back yesterday with some friends to try it again. And I am really glad I did.

First off, they now have outside seating which is really nice (although it's too hot to enjoy right now). It helps take care of some of the space issues (in my last review I mentioned that the bar wasted a lot of space that could otherwise be used for seating). Also, this time the bar seemed smaller than before. I'm not sure what they did differently but the interior space seemed better coordinated. Anyway, on to the important issues.

The service was a drastic improvement. The staff was friendly, efficient, and seemed to really care about the place, which is important. Our waiter was named Reagan, and if I'm not mistaken he was the same man I mentioned at the end of my review from last year who I really liked - and he was great this time too. The rest of the waiters this time were also excellent.

Another major improvement I noticed was with regard to their branding. I'm still not thrilled with their logo, but they have since changed their placemats, menus, etc. The placemats and take-out boxes are really nice. The menu still has a few type-o's and seems to have been done more haphazardly than the other printed items, but it is still a dramatic improvement from last year.* And the clipboard (to which each menu is attached) is a nice touch. The new branding materials finally standardize the colour scheme and create a single identity concept across the board. Oh, and the English text has been edited!

And the most significant improvement: the food. Our food this time was excellent. The meat was much better than it was last year, as was the bread. I can't remember the name of the burger that I ordered but it came from the "classics" section and had mushrooms in it. Overall, I would say that the burger was one of the best I've tasted in Kuwait. If you read my review from last year, you'll notice that's a major change in perspective on my part!

There were still some aspects of the interior design that I wasn't to keen on (i.e. the textured walls and the porcelain eyesore in the toilet), but now that there were so many other improvements, they were barely noticeable to me. It just goes to show that a little extra added effort here and there can create a dramatic overall effect. I loved all their different serving dishes, which I didn't mention last time. I'm not sure how many of them are new and how many were used last year as well, but when you're otherwise happy - with good service, good food, and a music volume that is satisfying to the eardrums - you become more inclined to notice the positives.

I must doff my hat to the guy(s?) who run this place. I have no idea whether or not they read my review from last year, but it seems like they really identified some of the areas that needed improvement, and worked on them. From what I hear, the place is always crowded, and I'm really happy about that. And once again, I must mention that I am really proud of the fact that this place is a homegrown private venture done by young Kuwaitis who decided to risk it all and go their own way. In a country that is so totally franchise-obsessed, I absolutely love seeing local businesses like this succeed. Now that there are quite a few small places like this opening, I think I will officially boycott anywhere that is a non-local establishment (except Johnny Rockets of course).

Kudos, Burger Hub people, whoever you are!

* Update: The menu has also changed since I wrote this post and it is yet another major improvement. It looks much better now, and goes well with the rest of the printed stuff. (Oct. 9, 2007)

My Return

2007-08-24T02:41:00.001+03:00

“‘Kuwait, Kuwait!’ he said, pointing. ‘There, there is a land of beauty for you to see! Do you not see that that is beautiful?’ ‘What, that piece of sand?’ I asked, pretending to be unimpressed. Nejdi looked horrified, though the coastline of Arabia in the neighborhood of Ras Zor is in fact far from impressive, and none but the Kuwaiti would see much beauty in it.

‘Sand! Piece of sand!’ Nejdi almost shouted. ‘Look at it, Nazarene! Here are no rough mountains, but the soft, low land, gentle as the swelling of a virgin’s breasts … Look now at this Kuwait!’ And he looked himself, very long, and kept on looking, no longer caring whether I was impressed or not.” (Alan Villiers, Sons of Sindbad, 1940, p. 341)

My Exit

2007-08-20T10:33:00.000+03:00

Tony Wilson

2007-08-11T00:42:00.000+03:00

What a sad and sudden event. Legendary Mancunian Tony Wilson, co-founder/part-owner/manager of Factory Records and The Haçienda nightclub (which I just discussed in my last post), passed away today at the tragically young age of 57 from a heart attack.

I don't really know what to say about this news. His death is a major loss and I'm really sad to hear that his life was cut so short. He was already battling kidney cancer this year and so his last few months had been difficult, but he seemed to be recovering well. His fatal heart attack, however, was not actually related to the cancer (at least not directly).

Tony Wilson was a legend, and he and the rest of the Factory Records group changed the face of music for so many of us growing up in the 80s and 90s. This is just such a sad and heartbreaking turn of events - and after just celebrating the 25th anniversary of The Haçienda, too.

You can read more about Tony Wilson at the link above and in this article in the Guardian written today after his death.

And I'll leave you with a Happy Mondays song: "24 Hour Party People" (listen / download).

Fac51: Sold Out

2007-08-04T21:45:00.000+03:00

The new "Fac51-Y3: The Haçienda" shoe arrived in the Y-3 store in Selfridges this morning. I have been waiting for nearly two months for this shoe to be released, and nobody knew for sure beforehand whether or not they would make them in women’s sizes. I was utterly disappointed to find out last night that they only come in men’s sizes, but I still wanted to see them in real life. So we went to Selfridges this morning after breakfast to check them out, but sadly by the time we got there at noon they were already sold out!

Before getting into the shoe and the packaging, let me give you a bit of history on what this is all about. Fac51 Haçienda (a.k.a. The Haçienda) was a legendary nightclub in Manchester during the eighties and early nineties, mainly financed by the record label Factory Records and the band New Order. Factory Records was the label of such groundbreaking bands as Joy Division, New Order, Happy Mondays, and Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, and the album covers of most of their records primarily featured the art of one of my favourite graphic designers of all time, Peter Saville (resident Factory designer). The club itself was designed by Ben Kelly, upon recommendation by Saville, and opened in 1982. You can read more detailed information about The Haçienda and Factory Records at the links above, since now I want to get more into the shoe, and why I love this so much.

The Factory Records scene, and all it encompasses, is one of my favourite art and music movements of all time. I grew up on the music of the Manchester club scene, despite the fact that I was listening to it all the way in the corners of my bedroom in Kuwait. It was one of those places and moments that I so wish I could have experienced myself first-hand, but, alas, my age and geography prevented me from doing so. But even though I never stepped foot in the Haçienda myself, my appreciation for the work of Factory Records, both musical and artistic, has always been very real and very strong.

So when I found out a couple of months ago that the Factory Records crew had teamed up with Y-3, the brand created by adidas and famous Japanese fashion designer Yohji Yamamoto, to create this limited edition trainer to celebrate the 25th anniversary of The Haçienda, well I just flipped. The shoe was designed as a collaboration between Peter Saville, Ben Kelly, and Joy Division/New Order bass player, Peter Hook. Only 250 pairs are being sold (at £345 a pair), and are available exclusively at the Y-3 store in Manchester, the Y-3 SIS in Selfridges in London, the flagship store in Tokyo, and a few selected retailers worldwide. The shoe was released a couple of weeks ago in Manchester, and arrived in London this morning.

I had read all about the packaging at Creative Review, and it sounded like a dream come true:

The trainers come in a custom six-sided, maple-bottomed box (the same shape as the Haçienda’s dancefloor) and will be wrapped in four sheets of tissue paper – two will feature Kevin Cummins’ photography of the club in its late 80s heyday, one will be adorned with Ben Kelly’s original design sketches for the Haçienda’s interior, while a fourth will reflect how the space looks today. A DVD documenting a discussion between Kelly, Saville and Hook sharing anecdotes about the club, Factory Records and how they feel about that time in their lives 25 years on will also be included in the package.

I was dying to see the shoes and packaging in real life, which is why we went to see them today. But when we got to the Y-3 store and asked about them, the guy told us that they’d sold out within 20 minutes. He said that people had been queueing from 9pm last night, and only 25 pairs were sold at Selfridges! Apparently, out of the 250 pairs made, 50 went to people who had been directly associated with the Haçienda (DJ’s, etc), about 30 went to the Manchester store, 25 to the SIS in Selfridges, and the rest to the flagship Y-3 store in Tokyo and to retailers in the United States (this is all according to the guy at the Selfridges store).

I am absolutely gutted that these didn’t come in women’s sizes. Their smallest size is a men’s (UK) 7, and I am a women’s 5 (which is like a men’s 3 or 4). I was actually willing to pay a hefty £345 for these, which shows how much I love the whole history, concept, design, and final product. But even if they’d come in women’s sizes, I doubt I would have queued overnight to buy them. I’m just not a very spend-the-night-on-a-sidewalk kinda girl. Also, I never thought that only 25 would make it to the Selfridges store, so I probably wouldn’t have even thought to queue overnight! What a shame that we didn’t get a chance to see them in real life.

Oh well…

Perhaps to compensate for the fact that I wasn't going to own a pair of Fac51-Y3's (or perhaps, more realistically, because I fell in love with them on the spot), I bought a wicked new pair of Converse yesterday:
The tongue looks like a man's tie. Check out close-ups here. I promised myself that these will be the last pair of shoes I buy from London before I move back to Kuwait* - although I have my eye on a sexy pair of Doc Marten's in the new Covent Garden store (and since I won't be here in the winter to buy my annual signature pair, maybe I should just get them now)...

* For those of you who don't know, I have a funky shoe fetish. No heels: strictly flats, trainers, and boots - mainly Docs.

My London

2007-07-19T22:25:00.000+03:00

One of my closest friends who I went to grad school with last year when I did my MA just moved back home to Canada to continue grad school. So last night we all went out for his last night in town, and when I got on the N73 bus to go home at the end of the night, after having said our goodbyes, it really hit me. Not simply that my friend is leaving. But that I am leaving, too.

I'm leaving London in about a month. I don't know how I'm going to leave this city...how I'm going to live outside of this city.

London is the city where I can buy French camembert, Italian bresaola, and German bratwurst at the Borough Market on an early Saturday afternoon.

London is the city where I can eat waffles in Covent Garden.

London is the city where I can spend endless afternoons browsing vinyls (mainly those of the Factory Records variety, featuring the art of Peter Saville) at old school record stores on Berwick and Hanway Streets.

London is the city where I can dance to Saint Etienne playing live, up close and personal, in Finsbury Park.

London is the city where I can spend hours walking around with my iPod on daydreaming in the magical area that P and I hope to live in one day.

London is the city where I can walk inside buildings designed by my favourite architects, and glide through museums featuring the work of my favourite artists and designers.

London is the city where I can sit and eat white cheddar popcorn while having a really great conversation with a new friend on the Southbank of the river Thames.

London is the city where I can dance to the Smiths at the Albany with friends who have become old friends, and listen to live jazz on Brick Lane with new friends who I'd like to meet again.

London is the city where I can gaze out the window on a bus and smile at strangers on the streets of Southwark.

London is the city where I can spend hours on end browsing the shelves at Foyles and the smaller indie bookstores of Bloomsbury.

London is the city where I can lean out my window overlooking my little Fitzrovia street to watch the people go by while blasting my music through my Sennheisers, and wave at Gregory sitting on the groundfloor window ledge down the road.

London is the city where I can drink the most perfect coffee and witness the most perfect retail designs, both on Monmouth Street, and then sit amidst the colours and scents of Neal's Yard.

London is the city where I can find the perfect shoes for my adventurous feet in West Soho.

London is the city where I can relive the history of my own hometown in the glorious reading rooms of the British Library.

London is the city where I can dance with my eclectic mix of friends to bad Arabic pop at the King's Crown/Long Hope in King's Cross, and have a thoroughly enjoyable time as the old white British man sitting at the bar stares in wonder.

London is the city where I can play Bob Dylan and Joni Mitchell on one of the most famous little jukeboxes in town.

London is the city where I can buy one new pair of Doc Martens a year on Kentish Town Road.

London is the city where I can invent brilliant new recipes using Polish kabanos sausages from Sainsbury's in my lovely fully-stocked kitchen.

London is the city where I can sit at an outdoor café in my urban village with my feet up on the plantpot right after a downpour but with the sun now shining, reading my book and watching the people go by.

London is the city where I can grab a Cornish pasty in the station before getting on a train to escape the hustle and bustle of urban living for a couple of days, but that I am thoroughly content to return home to once I've had my fix of fresh air and undisturbed sleep.

London is the city where I can push tourists out of my way in the tube station as I make my way home in a city that others visit, but that I have had the ultimate pleasure of calling my own over the past two years.

London is perfect...for me, and more importantly for me and my P. London is the city that defines everything that I, we, love about life. And although I have had to live the past two years here on my own, I hope, I know, that this is the city that we will one day call home together.

And so many people will just never know the real secrets to this city...and that suits me just fine.

1961

2007-06-19T23:02:00.000+03:00

My P sent me the link to this post by Fonzy today and asked me if today, June 19, really is Kuwait’s “independence day” (which it is). Being a historian, I of course wrote a long comment on that post about the history of the day and what it all really means. I was just about to write another equally long comment but I decided to stop hijacking his post and write one of my own, combining my comment over there as well as what I was just about to write, while giving Fonzy recognition for inspiring me to write this post (since I would have totally overlooked the fact that today was June 19). So here it is.

Although 19 June 1961 is usually classified as the day that Kuwait obtained its “independence”, technically what really happened that day was the termination of the Anglo-Kuwaiti Agreement of 1899 that had established British protection over Kuwait. According to the agreement (see image below), the Sheikh of Kuwait (i.e. Mubarak) pledged that he and his successors would not receive the agent or representative of any power or government in Kuwait, nor cede any portion of its territory to the government or subject of any other power, without the previous consent of the British Government. In exchange, the British offered Mubarak the loose assurance that they would protect him and Kuwait from external interference. It was not until 1915 that Kuwait was made an actual protectorate of the British Empire (meaning that the latter was now contractually bound to protect Kuwait). Although the termination of the agreement in 1961 meant that Kuwait was now free to make its own foreign policy decisions, a new “friendship” arrangement remained through which the British promised to continue offering Kuwait military assistance, something which was needed only days later due to renewed Iraqi claims over Kuwait. (This was the Cliffs Notes version of the story.)

Although it is most commonly used to describe the events of 19 June 1961, the term “independence” can be misleading because it implies that Kuwait was colonized or more formally incorporated into the British Empire than it really was. Rather, Kuwait was a protectorate, and what it had was an agreement with the British that held each party accountable for certain responsibilities towards the other. After the agreement was terminated in 1961, Kuwait was still dependent on Britain for military protection (as it had been for the past sixty years), and it wasn’t until 1975 that the Kuwaiti government took 100% control over the Kuwait Oil Company (which was originally owned as an Anglo-American joint venture between British Petroleum and Gulf Oil, now Chevron, with Kuwait only receiving 13% of the revenues). As such, Kuwait’s relationship with Britain both before and after 1961 was not as clearly defined as the use of the term “independence” implies.

But despite these details and ambiguities, in essence yes, 19 June 1961 was the day that the state of Kuwait obtained its “independence” from the British through the termination of the agreement. It was declared an “Emirate” and the ruler became officially known as the “Emir”. However, June 19 should not be confused with what is considered Kuwait’s “National Day”. National Day was chosen to be celebrated on February 25, which was the day in 1950 that Abdullah Al-Salem came to power, as a tribute to the ruler who actually phased out the British. Rather than simply celebrating the day the agreement was terminated, it was apparently decided to celebrate the reign of Abdullah Al-Salem for all of his achievements (including the creation of the National Assembly, the ratification of the Constitution, and of course terminating the agreement with Britain).

However, it is a bit misleading that in Kuwait we celebrate National Day on February 25, but count the years from 1961. It combines the two events of Abdullah Al-Salem’s accession to power and the termination of the agreement with the British. Furthermore, it does seem strange that June 19 goes by every year without causing so much as a ripple, since the date certainly holds some local meaning considering that the country counts the years of its "nationhood" from 1961. So for example, this past February 25 marked Kuwait's 46th National Day celebration - but in reality "25 February 1961" (counting back 46 years) means absolutely nothing.

Personally, I find all such token celebrations meaningless because most people celebrate without knowing a single thing about why or what they are celebrating. If we're going to honour 25 February 1950 and 19 June 1961 (or, in reality, a combination of the two) - then we should give equal recognition to August 1910 and 24 June 1938, etc. I don't mean in terms of a national holiday or anything like that. What I'm getting at is, the choice of the date of our "National Day" is arbitrary. As a Kuwaiti, to me 25 February 1950 is no more significant a date than 24 June 1938. In fact, I would have chosen the latter, but somebody else thought it more prudent to celebrate the former.

And just for fun: Kuwaiti National Anthem: 1978-present / Kuwaiti "Amiri Salute" and National Anthem: 1961-1978 (apparently). I've never heard the older one before and never even knew we used to have an old anthem before the 1978 one. I like it - it's cheerful! And the very first bars sound like the opening of "Le Marseillaise". But for some reason I thought our "Amiri Salute" sounded different. I'm trying to imagine those old scenes on KTV of the Amir landing at the airport and walking down the red carpet with the salute playing - it sounds different in my head. Or what am I thinking of? Anyway, I like this one. I keep playing it over and it makes me smile.

A song for my P

2007-06-15T02:05:00.000+03:00

Saint Etienne - "Shad Thames" (download)

This just says it all, doesn't it?

Let it go

2007-06-11T18:07:00.000+03:00

Yesterday, after a nice long day spent on the south side of the river Thames - first at the Tate Modern then across Southbank and down to the County Hall building - my friend nibaq, who is in town for a few days, and I crossed the Westminster Bridge and began walking towards Covent Garden. As we passed by the Victoria Embankment Gardens he stopped to take a photograph of a group of about three balloons that were stuck up in a tree. As he did that I wandered into the gardens, which I had never actually seen open before as the gates are usually closed when the weather is bad, but the weather has now finally become glorious. It had a nice lazy afternoon crowd of people lying in the grass or on deck chairs, and it was quiet and peaceful with a low murmur of voices and the slightly louder snoring of one man fast asleep under a tree. As most of the other parks are quite full these days with children and large groups of merry summer revellers, I made a mental note that this is a great place to come to when I want to escape the crowds and read quietly and enjoy the weather.

Anyway, as I rejoined my friend at the gate and we turned to make our way up towards the Strand, he turned to me and said something that I just really loved. He said that every child loses a bit of their innocence the moment they lose their first balloon. I thought about it, and it made great sense. It is so true. You remember what it was like when you were a child – you might have had a balloon tied to your wrist but slowly the bow came undone and the next thing you knew it was flying away from you and although you jumped in the air to try and grab the end of the string, it was too late. Most children in that moment are in a momentary state of shock. You remember – it was oddly traumatizing. The initial instinct was to cry, and to just look up and watch the balloon fly away, up, up into the sky, staring at that point until it was no longer visible. I had never thought about it before, but that must be one of the first moments in life that teaches you, at a very young age, a very important life lesson: sometimes you just have to let things go.

And I think it is a lesson that I need to learn again. Sometimes, you just have to let things go. I don't mean the big stuff here. I mean the trivial day-to-day stuff that can weigh you down unnecessarily. In other words, I have to stop sweating the small stuff.

I have written before about the fact that I am an obsessive perfectionist, and while it is something that can often benefit me – in my work, for example – usually it is something that is extremely exhausting, emotionally and mentally. A big part of the problem is that sometimes I just really need to let things go, and I don’t (or won’t). This applies to trivial day-to-day things, all the way up to more significant ones. I analyze, and over-analyze, and overthink, and just simply obsess over so many different things – big and small – to no end, and with no purpose. This has certainly gotten much worse with age, and since I’ve moved to London. In fact, I think it has hit a peak this year. And it is certainly for obvious reasons. Most simply, as a PhD student I spend huge amounts of time totally on my own, and it can be overwhelming. I am always very busy with my work, and what happens is that I sometimes end up going for days without any face-to-face human contact other than with the checkout person at Sainsbury’s. Of course I will speak to people on the phone or online, but it’s not the same as real human interaction. Not all weeks are like that of course. For most of this year I attended seminars at least twice a week and spent endless hours in various libraries. So the human contact was certainly greater. But this past month has been very much spent in isolation, for various reasons (not least of which was writing my first chapter), and it is therefore not surprising that my psychological state has also hit an all-time low this month. And that great a lack of human interaction is not healthy for anyone. You get so used to being on your own, that when you combine it with your already existing obsessive-compulsive tendencies, you can almost become your own worst enemy. You have too much extra time to think. And not in the good way – to think about the things that don’t really warrant thinking about. I think only those of you who have suffered through this can really get what I mean here.

Anyway, the point I realized today is, there really is no reason for all of this. There is no reason that I should allow any of this unnecessary stuff to make me feel so mentally, emotionally, and physically drained. In practically every aspect, my life is brilliant. I have a beautiful family who are all in good health, I have a wonderful partner in life who loves me and takes the best care of me even in absentia, and I have a great career and am following my passion. However, I have been through one enormous tragedy in my life and that is something that will always be extremely difficult to get over. But experiencing the worst in life allows you to appreciate and treasure the joys in life that much more. So since I have already suffered the worst sort of pain that any human being could possibly imagine, why should I allow the trivial things that bother me to stop me from feeling that joy that I deserve and have earned the right to experience every single day?

This post is directed more to myself than to anyone else. But what I do want to do here is to say to the world (or at least the five of you who are reading this!) that from today I am going to make a much stronger and more conscious effort to just let the trivial things go. I am going to let the balloons fly and watch them disappear, out of my life forever.

Just out of curiosity, how far up to you think balloons fly before they finally pop? And what happens to the string?

And finally, whenever I walk by the gates of the Embankment Gardens, I sing this Pet Shop Boys song in my head. And interestingly enough, the whole song itself just felt very fitting today.

Cross a windy bridge one winter night
Past Embankment Gardens enter warmth and light
Face the music (It’s never easy)
Forget the chill
Face the future (It’s never easy)
Find the will

If life is worth living, it’s got to be done
One might be forgiven for thinking it’s a life on the run
Many roads will cross through many lives
But somehow you survive

Look around, picture what’s in store
Is this the final edit, or is the subject now a bore?
Don’t shrug your shoulders (It’s always easy)
You can’t ignore

That life is worth living, it’s still worth a damn
One might be forgiven for thinking it’s something of a sham
Many words may make it sound contrived
But somehow we’re alive

The survivors - Our heads bowed
The survivors - At memorials for other faces in the crowd

Teachers and artists (It’s never easy)
And Saturday girls
In suits or sequins (It’s never easy)
Or twin-sets and pearls

If life is worth living
It’s got to be run
As a means of giving
Not as a race to be won
Many roads will run through many lives
But somehow we’ll arrive

Many roads will run through many lives
But somewhere we’ll survive

Mall of Kuwait: Oh, Dear

2007-06-06T14:50:00.001+03:00

The past couple of days of my life have been completely wasted (well, not quite wasted, let's say spent) online just checking stuff out. Hey, I've given myself the week off after the exceptionally hectic month I've had! Anyway, I'm not sure how but at some point this morning I ended up on the Tamdeen Real Estate Company (Kuwait) website. They're the people who brought you Fanar and the Al-Kout/Manshar cluster. They are now apparently working on something called 360˚ Kuwait in South Surra, and the Mall of Kuwait in Sabahiya:

This is getting ridiculous. How many malls does such a small country with less than three million people need? And it's like each new one that comes along tries to outdo the last one. So they're just going to keep getting bigger and bigger. My only consolation with all of this is that at least they've stopped reclaiming land from the sea to build these monostrosities (probably because there's no coastal land left to reclaim - but I won't get into that again).

The reason I'm writing about this is to share with you the blurb on the Tamdeen website about the Mall of Kuwait. The points I would like to highlight here are in bold.

Located between the two main highways linking Kuwait City to the south, the Mall of Kuwait in the Sabahiya area will have a massive retail area of 150,000 square meters. Designed to capture the imagination of the nation, it will be surrounded by gardens, water bodies and some of the most extensive leisure and dining facilities. The mall will have a hypermarket, five anchor stores, the world’s best brands and spectacular entertainment facilities. It will integrate the ethos and culture of Kuwait, making it a cultural hub for the community. When the Mall of Kuwait opens, it will become an iconic landmark for Kuwait and a fitting tribute to the country’s grand vision.

Of course there are the obvious questions that one can ask in connection with the opening of yet another mall of this grotesque size in Kuwait: how many hypermarkets does Kuwait actually need (360˚ is having one too), how many Starbucks' are going to open in this place, how much extra stock does H&M have at the end of every season, etc. Also, how many of those big hideous clown bouncy things are going to ruin the gardens, water bodies, and leisure facilities? But let's forget about all that. They wanna open yet another mall, let them.

But who else is hanging their heads in shame right now at the thought of being part of a nation whose "imagination" gets "captured" by the sight of 150,000 square meters of retail space? Who else is humiliated that the "ethos and culture of Kuwait" is defined by shopping, coffee, and food? Does anybody else find it troubling that the "cultural hub" for our "community" is going to be a shopping and entertainment centre that probably won't even have a bookstore? An "iconic landmark for Kuwait"? Landmark in whose eyes? The tourists who will come flocking across the southern border to shop in Sabahiya?

And finally, it will be a "fitting tribute to the country's grand vision." Sadly, I think this statement is actually true. This is Kuwait's grand vision. It's all about shopping malls and satiating the short attention span of its population. You know, this mall will probably be completed around the same time as the new National Library on the Gulf Road in Kuwait City. I bet that for every one person that enters the National Library, 500 people will be walking into the Mall of Kuwait. We all know which one I'll be living in!

London 2012

2007-06-05T02:36:00.001+03:00

So the logo for the London 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games was unveiled this morning. I'm not going to get into the official details of the actual logo and branding concept - you can read all about that on the official website and in today's BBC article on it. I will give one official piece of information on it though - this cost £400,000!

What the...? Suffice it to say, practically everybody that I have encountered in London, both in real life and on the radio/TV, is unhappy with it. My initial instinct is to hate it. The logo itself comes in four colours: fuschia pink, light blue, orange, and kind of a fluoride green. You can see all four variations here at the bottom. It's very 80's, and I'm not sure in the good way. In fact, it's more early 90's, in a sort of "Saved by the Bell" kind of way (watch the video on this link and then compare with the video on the official website linked above, particularly the part after the dive into the pool, to see what I mean). Anyway, the point is, all this money, all this effort, and this is what they came up with?

The chairman of the London 2012 organising committee, Seb Coe, admitted that the logo wouldn't be to everyone's taste, but he insisted that it put across the message that he wanted the London Games to deliver, namely that they are "Everyone's Games". By being everyone's games, they're hoping that they will inspire people, particularly young people, to take part in the many sporting, cultural, educational, and community activities surrounding the Games, and to achieve their own personal goals. In the words of Tony Blair, "When people see the new brand, we want them to be inspired to make a positive change in their life."

I wouldn't hold your breath if I were you, Tony. This is hardly an "inspirational" logo. I am not an artist or designer by any means, but I do know a lot about art and design and I do think I have pretty good taste. Sometimes you see things that might not be aesthetically pleasing to you personally, but you kind of get it. Something about it works - especially when it comes to branding and logos. But in this case, I just don't see it. What am I not getting? What are my eyes not seeing? I'm all for taking a risk and doing something edgy and innovative. That is what London itself is all about, after all. But the logo should capture the city and its people somehow - it should define what London and Londoners are all about. Not in a cliché London Eye type of way, but in terms of the energy that emanates off the logo. This simply doesn't.

As I said, my first instinct is to hate it, but I have decided that I am going to give this logo the benefit of the doubt for a little while longer. A part of me really wants to believe that there is something that I am missing and that this really was worth the £400,000 they spent on it. I will wait and see what they do with this concept which, according to Coe, is not a logo, "it's a brand that will take us forward for the next five years." It wouldn't really matter what this logo looked like except that this brand is going to be taking over London over the next five years! The venues of the Olympic city are going to be built around this design concept. If Londoners don't like it, that's a problem, because they're the ones who are going to have to live with it over the next five years, as well as in the future (since the new Olympic site will remain forever).

What does everyone else think?

Update: Good new article about the logo from today's BBC online.
Update 2: The video on the official website has been removed from their site because apparently the part I mentioned above when the guy dives into the pool and there is a multi-colour ripple effect, has triggered epileptic seizures. Read more about it here. I think it's funny how the spokeswoman has to make it clear that it was the animation, and not the logo itself, that caused health concerns. Also, if the whole point of this logo is that it is dynamic and can be animated, this is certainly going to put a kink in their plans!

Joey

2007-06-01T02:39:00.000+03:00

I have mentioned before that I live on a tiny little street right smack in the middle of central London. Although it is in the middle of a very commercial area, my street is actually one of London's hidden gems. There are some phenomenally great night spots on it that most Londoners don't even know about, let alone visitors. There is one place that is a couple of doors down from mine that has been closed down for most of this year but recently re-opened. They are on the first floor (in British definition, i.e. one up from the ground floor) and usually have their windows wide open. I'm on the second floor, close by, so I always hear their music wafting into my flat on nights when I have my windows open, which is almost always now that the weather is getting warmer. It has come to the point where I actually know a handful of their most regular nightly songs (Petula Clark's "Downtown", Oasis's "Wonderwall", James Brown's "Sex Machine", Sixpence None the Richer's "Kiss Me", interspersed with live Spanish music - very eclectic, I know).

Yesterday, however, I was walking down my street at around 2pm and I suddenly heard a song blaring out their open windows that made me literally stop dead in my tracks: it was "Joey" by Concrete Blonde. The song came out in 1990 and just defines that year, which I spent in California, as well as the whole of the early nineties to me. In middle school in A.S.K. around 1992 I found out that, by miracle, my best friend (a guy) also knew the song. Barely anybody else I know has ever known it! So finding someone else in those years who knew it...in Kuwait...was incredible. Anyway, so yesterday as I was walking down my street and heard this song, it just hit me like a ton of bricks. I hadn't heard it in years. It was one of those songs that I guess I'd forgotten about once we officially stopped using cassette tapes (which, for my generation, was honestly around 2000), since I'd only ever had this song on a single bought in 1990 from Tower Records in California once upon a long time ago.

So tonight I was out with a group of some the most terrific friends that I have made over the past two years since I've been in London. I personally was celebrating the fact that today was my submission deadline for my first chapter and some other written items for my PhD. Anyway, at one point we were deciding where to go and so since we were in the neighbourhood I recommended the place on my street, since I know that their music is great and the atmosphere is wonderful (despite it being as small as my own living room). I was hoping for "Joey" all night but since I have grown accustomed to their nightly playlist and only heard the song that one time on the street at 2pm, I figured it must have been a random fluke.

But perhaps realising that I really needed this moment, the angels of all that is good in this world succombed, and at around 11pm, suddenly, out of nowhere, I heard a very familiar opening to a song. I had already talked about "Joey" and my moment on the street to my friends there earlier in the night, and when I heard the opening chords I hesitated for about one second, a bit unsure, and then squealed out, "IT'S JOEY!!" And it was..."Joey".

And in the midst of their conversation, my friends respectfully ignored me as I thoroughly wallowed in and savoured the moment. It was brilliant. It was one of those moments in life that you just want to cut out and fold up into a tiny square and hide in your pocket, to pull out in all those inevitable moments when life just gets too hectic.

This will always be one of the best, and most important, songs of my entire life. I know it is such a cliché, but this song just defines so many seminal moments in my life. And for that reason, it will always be mine. (Download)

"Joey, baby, don't get crazy.
Detours, fences...I get defensive.
I know you've heard it all before,
So I don't say it anymore.
I just stand by and watch you
Fight your secret war.
Although I used to wonder why,
I used to cry till I was dry.
Still sometimes I get a strange pain inside.
Oh, Joey, if you're hurting so am I.

Joey, honey, I got some money.
All is forgiven.
Listen, listen.
And if I seem to be confused,
I didn't mean to be with you.
And when you said I scared you,
Well I guess you scared me too.
But we got lucky once before,
And I don't wanna close the door.
And if you're somewhere out there
Passed out on the floor...
Oh Joey, I'm not angry anymore.

And if I seem to be confused,
I didn't mean to be with you.
And when you said I scared you
Well I guess you scared me too.
But if it's love you're looking for,
Then I can give a little more.
And if you're somewhere drunk and
Passed out on the floor...
Oh Joey, I'm not angry anymore."

Absolutely.

May 20th

2007-05-20T15:45:00.000+03:00

Happy birthday to my P.

Happy anniversary to Raine and her O.

The Shining

2007-05-15T23:34:00.000+03:00

I spent the day outside of London today. On my way back into town in the early evening, I had to take the slow train because all the fast trains were delayed. So I sat by the window and popped my iPod on and got ready for a long two-hour ride back home.

It was rainy and the sky was overcast. For about half the journey I was listening to the same three songs on repeat,* each of which seemed to perfectly fit the mood of the English countryside on such a wet yet pretty day. Brooding yet peaceful - both the music and the view.

About halfway through my journey I decided to stop listening to the same songs over and over and put my iPod on shuffle. The first song that came on was one I didn't even realize I had. It's the remix of a song I know and love, but I'd never heard this version before for some reason, despite its being in both my iTunes and iPod. The song was Badly Drawn Boy's "The Shining (The Avalanches Good Word for the Weekend Remix)" [download]. It's amazing when you hear a new version of a song that you already love, but that does it even better. It's so very familiar yet so very new at the same time. It was like when I first heard the Postal Service's remix of Feist's "Mushaboom". Anyway, the song immediately put me in such a wonderful mood. And I swear, as unrealistic and clichéd as it's going to sound, just as the song burst open (nearly a minute into it) the bushes whizzing by my window suddenly ended and opened up the view, to this...

The shining, indeed. And the best part was, I was absolutely alone in the train carriage. This was another one of those beautiful, perfect London moments. And I really needed it too. I've been in a real funk lately and this was exactly what I needed to bring me out of it. Sometimes it really is the simplest things in life!

And since it's been exactly one year since this picture of me studying for exams in the library, I thought I'd throw this picture in just for the fun of it. One year has gone by incredibly fast.

By the way, these pictures were taken with my Sony Ericsson. If only I'd had my real camera!

* The three songs on repeat were (not a big surprise if you read my last post): "Release Me" by Oh Laura (listen), and "Gotta Have You" and "World Spins Madly On" by The Weepies (listen).

Release Me

2007-05-10T02:56:00.000+03:00

I have been spending the past few weeks embedded deep within the archives. As I have said before, I love being in the archives. It is where I feel most at home, most happy. I think it might be hard for anybody other than a historian to understand and truly appreciate what it feels like. But anyway, that isn't my point here.

Each "season" - each time I'm in the archives for a specific and significant period of time - I have a new playlist on my iTunes to accompany me. Normally when I'm reading in the archives I take my headphones off and need total silence. But once I start taking notes and copying down passages onto my PowerBook, my music comes on. It helps pass the time through the otherwise tedious task of satsifying my own anal accuracy.

(And just as an aside, I love how the majority of people in the British Library are fellow Mac users. It just goes to show that the smartest people in the world use Mac.)

Going back to my playlist. So the past couple of weeks, while I have been doing my latest hard-core 9am-5pm stint in the BL (alas, the OIOC reading room closes at 5pm!), the number one track on my playlist has been "Release Me" by the band Oh Laura. I guess one day this magnificent song will define May 2007 for me. Here it is:

Listen / Download

Tragedy(ies)

2007-05-06T11:39:00.000+03:00

Look at what they're doing to Failaka Island.

You can read more about the project here.

They're going to cut a man-made lagoon right through it. Does anybody else object to these money-grubbing ignorants cutting one of Kuwait's most beautiful and historic sites right in half? Does anybody else object to the fact that they are turning the island that Alexander the Great himself named Icarus into a Disney-style nightmare?

The planners' site shows the client as "confidential". It might be the actual government but if it's not then I have a pretty good idea who the client is. Either way I'm just so sick of these people pretending that Kuwait belongs to them alone and doing whatever they want to destroy our history and natural environment. This is sick. And the worst part is, why is everyone so complacent? Nobody is saying anything about this.

This is Failaka! This island used to be one of the most significant and unique sites in the Persian Gulf, and it's ours. We should be treasuring it, not trashing it. It was sad enough that the government never supported the inhabitants of Failaka after the Iraqi invasion to help them return to the island and restore their life in the town that has existed for centuries. The last time I went to Failaka was in early 2004, right before all these new projects began, and the town was still standing. But it was completely bombed out - houses were burned and covered with bullet holes (remember, the Iraqis used the island as a military base and did a lot of target practice there). It felt like mainland Kuwait back in 1991; it felt fresh. It was 13 years later! How come nobody bothered to restore their life and town after the war was over?

But coming back to now. I'm so sick of these projects. In mainland Kuwait, we no longer have a visible coastline. This is what it used to look like in the 1970s. You all know what it looks like now. As one example out of hundreds, that ridiculous Marina Waves was pointless. Have you ever stood there in the centre of it and looked across the water back onto Salmiya? Do you notice that the current has totally changed direction in that little inlet the site has created? I'm no geologist, but what I did learn from geology in high school plus common sense tells me that this is a disaster for our ecosystem. Shorelines are supposed to move naturally, slowly. So what happens to the ecosystem when you suddenly reclaim land from the sea and push the shoreline back a couple hundred meters? You get thousands of tonnes of fish washing up on shore like we did back in 2001.

But nobody cares. Have you guys noticed the water near the Marina area? It's disgusting. It's thick and murky. But as long as there's Maki, who cares? As long as some big-wigs are making bucketloads of money by the second they don't care that they are completely destroying our environment. And I'm not even going to get started on the illegal fishing that takes place during the seasons when everybody else is restricted from catching certain types of fish for commercial use. (There is a reason this law exists - it's to let the shrimp or fish reproduce and replenish its population so that the species doesn't go extinct before the eggs have had time to hatch!)

Anyway, one more rant and I'll let you go. I'm sure most of you know that they're going to be continuing the "ring" of First Ring Road to cut right through the city centre. Does anybody else object to the idea of having a highway running through the old city centre? Do you realize that to build this, part of the highway is going to run right through or over the Behbehani Complex and Catholic Church (near the Sheraton)? Look at the plans.

Yet another disastrous project. Do you guys know that everytime they dig to build a foundation in Kuwait City (and of course when they build the trenches for this highway) they come across archaeological remains of an old town? Do they know it's there? Yes. Have they seen it when they dig? Certainly. Do they excavate? Of course not. You know that Al-Babtain Library for Arabic Poetry? Huge site under there. And they built right on top of it. You know that new "Heritage Village" they're building near the Dickson House? You know that in order to make way for this new reconstruction village, they tore down some old Kuwaiti houses (i.e. to build new fake ones in their place)? Does anybody else find it hard to reconcile the fact that we try to promote "culture" and "heritage" by building over and/or tearing down the real deal?

They want to turn Failaka into a "resort" and "entertainment" island to promote tourism. Tourists from where? It's going to turn into a hailag island. But hey, as long it brings them money, that's all that matters to them. It just breaks my heart.

The Nissan Invasion

2007-05-03T01:58:00.000+03:00

So I know it isn't really blogworthy, especially considering that this is my first post in over a month, and the previous post was rubbish at that, and was the first since January. But anyway, this red Nissan has been parked - illegally - right outside my main front door since Monday.

The first picture shows my front door, where the red arrow is pointing. The second one is taken from my bedroom window. (I apologize for the quality of the pictures - taken with my Sony Ericsson K610i without flash.)

As you can see, I live on a tiny little street - a glorified alley, really - and so it's taking up a lot of space. What's strange is that the car window is open and the doors are unlocked. It's had a traffic ticket since Tuesday morning. But it's still there. Nobody really seems to know why. When I left my place at 10am this morning there was a guy from the Camden Council inspecting the car and I told him it's been there since Monday which he took note of but I was in a hurry so didn't bother to ask him what the deal was. It's kind of intriguing, to me at least. Plus it's generating quite a bit of conversation in the "neighbourhood".

And that leads me to something else. I live right smack-dab in the middle of central London. I live amidst the bustling city streets "where the cars never stop going through the night". And yet, what I love about my little area is that it really is a tiny itty-bitty community. I live on a tiny street just off two enormously main streets. But that little street is a neighbourhood unto itself. When I walk out my front door in the morning it is rare for me to go either left or right to either of the two main streets without saying good morning to at least one person. The guys who run the electronics store underneath me are my buddies. They come up to help me with my wiring when I need it and I get invited to their Christmas parties. The people at the café on the corner have learned how I like my morning coffee: my "usual". Heck, even the homeless guy on our street is like family. The café people know him, the pub people know him, and everyone in between stops for a chat with him. When I come home late I night, I feel a million times safer when I see him there. And if I come home earlier in the evening, the guys unloading the new stock for one of the stores of the main street, that has their loading dock on our little alley, stop to chat with me and ask me how my PhD is coming along. It's a sweet little community. Eclectic, but safe...home...despite the city rumble.

When I walked out my front door yesterday and saw the Nissan still blocking my way, the guy standing across my little street smoking a cigarette looked at me and said, "It's still here." We laughed. We'd never spoken before. I only knew him because his office window is directly across from my bedroom window. But in that moment, with the Nissan between us, I loved the feeling of familiarity within the anonymity of the city.

That is something I'm going to miss terribly when I move back to Kuwait in August.

Spring...but not quite

2007-03-20T01:46:00.000+03:00

It's been ages since I've posted. And whenever you haven't posted for a while, and you have people messaging or Emailing you asking where you've been - "readers" (so to speak) that you never thought you'd have - you always feel this immense pressure to post something profoundly brilliant for your comeback. But as I have so much going on right now - tons of reading, writing the first chapter of my PhD thesis, preparing for a seminar presentation, preparing a paper for a conference, and getting ready to go to Kuwait in April - I will resist the urge to write something profound here. Instead, I will just keep it simple.

Last week the weather was beautiful here in London. It felt like spring was on the horizon - sunny skies, light jackets, and chilly evenings. But suddenly, this week hit and it's cold as hell again. But I got enough of a taste of spring to start to feel that giddiness that comes along with it. That feeling of blowing off work, sitting outside at your favourite outdoor locale, and wasting the day/evening away talking, laughing, and being merry. And although I know most of you who are reading this are in Kuwait and are feeling summer descending in all its flaming fury, I thought I would share two of my favourite "winter's-over-and-holy-sh!t-spring-is-here" songs (even though it might be a tad premature for London):

"I'm A Cuckoo" - Belle and Sebastian (listen / download)
"The Blues Are Still Blue" - Belle and Sebastian (listen / download)

Enjoy!

Bubbles from Nibaq

2007-02-02T23:35:00.000+03:00

I walked out my front door yesterday and the owner of the shop downstairs, who was standing outside, told me he had a package delivered for me. Sometimes when I’m not home and I get a package that I need to sign for they take it since I know the guys who work in the shop all quite well. I had no idea what the package might be and as we walked into the shop I quickly scanned my brain trying to remember if I’d ordered anything online recently. The last thing I’d ordered was my pair of Cath Kidston wellies, which I got last week (and of course, since I’ve been dying to debut them, not a drop of rain has fallen from the London sky). But I digress. To my surprise he pulled out a big Amazon box, and I was pretty certain I hadn’t ordered anything from Amazon in ages (I do live in London, after all!). I looked up at him and said, “Amazon? What could I be getting from Amazon?” He just looked back at me, not sure if I really wanted him to answer.

Anyway, so I took the box back upstairs and actually started ripping the tape open with my keys on my way up the steps. Inside the Amazon box was another big green box, tied with green ribbon, and a card attached. I was beyond intrigued. The card read: “Late birthday present, but like to get things right. So blow those troubles away.” No name, but I started to get an idea of who it might be from. I tore the green box open, and inside, I found…

A bubble-making machine!

Then I knew it must be from none other than the delightfully insane nibaq. What a great friend. I suspect he saw that I was in a bit of a funk last week and decided to cheer me up with bubbles, glorious bubbles! Or he just wanted me to take a break from my PhD to play. Either way, it’s pretty darn wonderful, and it makes me feel pretty darn special.

I can’t wait to put this out my window and watch the reactions of the people on my street at the gazillion bubbles in the air. Some friends are coming over tomorrow night and we’re going to try it out then.

Thanks, nibaq, for giving me what is certain to be many hours of joyous wonder. And thanks for being such a thoughtful friend. And, finally, thank you for Mika! I can’t wait to fill my flat with bubbles and just twirl around in glee to "Oh, oh, oh – Is there anybody home? Who'll believe me, won’t deceive me, who’ll try to teach me..."

You are my star of the week.

My mood these days

2007-01-26T00:37:00.000+03:00

Audio supplement: Listen / Download

The only person I feel like being around, and need near me, is my P, and he's thousands of miles away.

Bye Bye Kuwait

2007-01-04T00:15:00.000+03:00

One of my objectives for this trip home was to find old Kuwaiti musalsalaat and masra7iyyat on DVD to take back with me to London. Thanks to Tooomz, on Wednesday my mission became a success. I first went to Markaz al-Funoon in Salmiya on Fifth Ring Road, but it turned out to be closed for some reason. Luckily, I was on the phone with Tooomz at the time and she told me about another DVD store right off Plajaat Street that she knew for sure had all the old school shows on DVD (a place called Al-Arqam).

The place has everything on DVD. Flipping through their catalogue of old shows and plays, I felt my childhood in Kuwait in the 80s rushing back to me. I felt a strong wave of nastalgia for a Kuwait that no longer is. And I felt warmth as I read the titles and remembered that Kuwait once had a very artistic and creative past.

To start off with, I bought the entire series of "Darb izzalag" (3 discs), all of "Regaya w Sabeecha" (4 discs), and three masra7iyyat: "Bye Bye Landan", "Firsan almanakh", and "7afla 3ala alkhasoog". Today a couple of my friends went to check the place out and I asked them to buy me some more: "3ozooby al-Salmiya", "Bsa6 alfagr", and "Dars khusoosy". Also, the guy in the store is trying to find "Bas Ya Ba7ar" for me on DVD, although Jazz Central told me that he has it and will let me copy it.

So tonight P and I watched the first episode of "Regaya w Sabeecha". Within the first minute, I was falling off the couch laughing at the first spoken scene. "Bo gthailah" (played by Ghanim al-Saleh) rolls up to the two women in his waneit and says: "Waneit, yubba?" and Regaya (Su'ad Abdullah) responds sarcastically with: "Nadree waneit. Nadree waneit, 3ayal sh7asbalek, sarookh?!" with the typical Kuwaiti woman hand gestures. Then they try to open the waneit door and it's locked and Sabeecha (Hayat al-Fahad) starts banging on the door yelling "Shfeeh? Shfeeh, gi6eee3a...?!" I rewound it like five times.

I miss the old Kuwaiti dialect. It seems to be dying with the current under-30 generation. Sometimes my friends tease me because they say that when I bust out in full-on Kuwaiti I sound like an old grandmother. Growing up, I spoke English at home and at school, and so as a kid my Kuwaiti dialect was learned primarily from my maternal grandmother and from TV shows like these. So my sisters and I all still use the phrases that we picked up from my Mom and grandmother. But whenever I use one of them around anyone under the age of 30, I get strange looks. It makes me sad to think that so many of these old sayings, phrases, and even words are going to die out soon. And they're all being replaced with meaningless airheaded phrases like "ay shay".

Anyway, I feel so excited having all of these on DVD. I can't wait to watch "Darb izzalag". I haven't seen that in eons. Same with "Regaya w Sabeecha", although I remember seeing a couple of episodes of it again a few years ago. I'm looking forward to watching them again as an adult, when I can really understand what's going on (since my Arabic has drastically improved), and have a proper grasp of the socio-political commentary of the shows and plays that I probably missed as a kid. But at the same time, I know they're going to make me sad, and angry, and frustrated. Just watching the first episide of R & S today, one of the first things I noticed as they were driving on the Gulf Road in one scene was how you could totally see the sea from the road. No TGIFriday's, McDonald's, Aqua Park fiascos blocking the view and destroying the bay. And of course, I felt my heart beginning to break. But at least it might be good for me to remember that the Kuwait I still love and cherish in my heart was not simply a figment of my imagination - that there was once a "there there".

One thing I've realized lately is that the majority of people in Kuwait nowadays really don't care about what's happened to it, and what is continuing to happen to it. They don't care that our history has been wiped out with bulldozers and ignorance, and that nobody respects the land we live on anymore, and that there is no longer any sense of community, etc. I say the majority, because the majority of the country is under the age of 25, and that is precisely the demographic I am talking about. It is not an "education" thing - because even some very educated young Kuwaitis just don't really care much. I see it more as an age thing - those of us who were at least 11 during the invasion still have a vivid memory of what Kuwait used to be like and therefore feel the pain of its disintegration more acutely. "They" think we're living too much in the past, that we can't accept change, etc. But that's not it. We're all for change and progress and moving with the times. But the difference is, we know. We know something different, something unique. And it's such a shame that they will just never know. They'll never know that Kuwait. The magic of that place that some of you who are reading this still remember. I think those of us in our late twenties now are the last ones who can remember what Kuwait was like before the invasion. The invasion changed everything, permanently. Socially, politically, economically - nothing was ever the same after 1990. People think the destruction of Kuwait as caused by the invasion ended with the liberation, or at most with the capping of the last oil fire in December 1991. Most people don't realize the severe long term effects that 1990 has had on our nation. Kuwait might have recovered from the crisis, but it never returned.

Oh, going back. The best part is that these DVD's are recorded from videos, which were recorded from TV, and so all the commercials from the early 80s are included! So far we've seen ads for BKME, Commercial Bank, 7-Up, and General air conditioners (available through the Union Trading Company). Extremely vintage!

P.S. *Knock, knock* Sabeecha: "Minhaw?" ... "Dhiab Dayikh Dheeb Bnaider!" "Haw, shillyabek min Bnaider?" "Ya bint il7alal fichey ilbab, ana Dhiab ra3y ilwaneit." "Wee 6a3 7adhek, gool ra3y ilwaneit ba3ad..." LOOOL!

PhD Student's Vacation

2006-12-28T01:59:00.000+03:00

(Click to enlarge.)

This is so true. This is a PhD student talking to his supervisor before going on vacation. You always think you're going to get work done when you go home, and you even set aside work specifically for the plane. But something happens the minute you board, and all your study plans get left behind on the tarmac. I brought two books with me to Kuwait. One really thick one, and one relatively thin one but it's in Arabic (so will probably take me longer to read). I borrowed both from my supervisor before I traveled (without any specific deadline to return them), and I thought they would be good to read while in Kuwait. Second week into my trip, and they are both sitting on my desk untouched. I better get cracking.

On the subject of books, I was pretty impressed with the Middle East collection at Virgin. You would never expect Virgin Megastore to carry some of the books they have, and it made me wonder who is doing their ordering. I was impressed to see a copy of Ilan Pappe's brand new book The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine, and also an important book called Saudi Arabia in the Balance: Political Economy, Society, Foreign Affairs, which I bought. I've never bought a book from Virgin that wasn't design oriented, let alone one that I would have otherwise bought from Foyles or Waterstone's in London. It made me happy. I hope they keep it up.

Donuts = Religion?!

2006-12-20T01:08:00.000+03:00

The other night P and I stopped in for coffee and donuts at Dunkin Donuts in Salmiya. At the back they have a big bulletin board where people can "express themselves" - draw, say how much they love DD, sign their names, etc. Basically, it's a space for people to just have fun and mess about, and it's obvious most of the people who were signing it were kids and teenagers. P and I had fun looking at it from our table and giggling at some of the endearing attempts to write in English. ("I like DD restrunt. It's the best dounts factory at all." Bless your heart.) It was all innocent fun, and it's a cute idea on DD's part.

And then suddenly, my eyes fell on this:

Why? Why right there in the middle of a "Hamad-loves-Dunkin- Donuts" collage? What does religion have to do with donuts? Out of all the things you could have said, that's what you decided to write? Sorry, I mean to preach? It's just donuts for crying out loud! What, did you think the little kids were having too much fun stuffing their faces with glazed munchkins and scribbling their names on a wall that you thought it would lead them straight to hell if they didn't remember to stop and thank God for these donuts that He has so graciously bestowed upon us? Go preach in your own space, not in this corner of the world that is dedicated to donuts and chocolate sprinkles. God must have been looking down on her at that moment saying: "My word, lady, would you give it a rest?!"

This was originally a much longer post, in which I was critically assessing several other similar overly-religious-ziyada-3alluzoom trends I've seen in Kuwait lately, but my friends told me if I post it I could get into trouble so I won't. I hate the fact that I feel compelled to self-censor. I know I can post whatever I want, and many other bloggers do post their views on Kuwaiti politics and religion, but I'm still chicken to do it in this kind of a venue. I guess I feel much bolder and braver when I write and publish academically.

Travel Frenzy

2006-12-15T18:16:00.000+03:00

I am an anxious traveler. Surprise surprise. I am one of those people that likes to get to the airport at least three hours early, if not more. And I fret about it from the night before (even when the flight is the following night). I like to be as organized as possible before arriving in the terminal. To me, it's like a war zone, and precision is key. I check in online the night before and have my confirmation printed out and ready. That way, I go straight to the Fast Bag Drop, drop off my luggage, and get done with the whole ordeal quickly and painlessly. And then I have plenty of time to do some last minute shopping, or to sit at the new café in Terminal 4 (can't remember what it's called - where McDonald's used to be), have a sandwich, and read. And then I can calmly stroll over to the gate for boarding, which is usually 20 minutes away. Why be rushed and crazed when you can be on time and calm?

But lately, Heathrow is causing me way too much anxiety. When I came home in November, they had turned the Fast Bag Drop into a regular counter, so even though I'd already checked in online and only needed to drop my luggage, I had to queue for two hours. Then another hour in the security queue. I had checked in online, got to the airport three hours early - basically did everything right - and yet I still had to run to the gate. I hadn't eaten all day so I barely had time to pick up a sandwich from Pret a Manger on the way to eat on the plane. And of course, some TK chick-chicks ended up delaying the whole flight anyway because they were too busy shopping to hear the boarding call.

Anyway. It is now 3:30pm and my taxi is picking me up at 5pm. I'm feeling anxious because my towels are still in the dryer and so I haven't taken a shower yet. But everything else is done (other than taking out the trash and turning off the boiler). I usually take the Heathrow Express but this time I had to settle for a taxi because, yes ladies and gentlement, I have two, count them...two, suitcases! I haven't traveled with two suitcases since I first moved to London. But I overdid it on the Christmas shopping this year. And a lot of the stuff was just bulky. So now my whole airport precision plans have gone to the dogs. Now I'm freaked out about having to pay excess baggage. I called British Airways - on flights to Kuwait, they charge £16 per extra kilo past the permissible 23kg. I have a whole extra suitcase (albeit a small one), and I think it's at least 10-15 extra kilos - I'm not exactly sure because I don't have a scale and I have absolutely no conception of weight. But if it is, then that's £160-240 in excess baggage! That is just insane. I'm going to have to beg and plead. I'll play the Christmas card ("it's all presents for my family who I barely get to see"), and possibly the PhD student card ("I'm going to do field research and had to bring my books"). I'm also worried they will have the Fast Bag Drop be a normal queue again, in which case I might just kill someone.

I am traveling for three weeks with two suitcases. Oh God, I am such a TK.

Update: I got to the airport at 5:30 because my taxi arrived 15 minutes early. The airport was the most crowded I have ever seen it, and pure chaos. They have had a big tent area built up outside the main terminal 4 building for the past couple of months but I'd never seen it used before. Well last night we had to stand in the tent as a kind of holding area as they checked in each flight one at a time (didn't matter if you'd been waiting 3 hours for your flight or you just arrived - you were treated the same). I was standing there for about 2 1/2 hours, despite the fact that I (and many others) had checked in online. Anyway, by 8pm they finally announced our flight to Kuwait (we were the last remaining in the tent), and then we were allowed to enter the terminal building and stand in the actual check-in queue there. I was third in line amongst the Kuwait passengers, but we were way at the back of everyone else. Luckily they started tagging our luggage and processing boarding passes from the back of the line where we were (so they were basically working from both ends of the line), so I only had to wait there for about 10 minutes. Then they had us take our luggage to what was a real Fast Bag Drop, where they weren't checking weight or anything. So basically, I didn't pay squat. Woo hoo! Had enough time to have a light dinner, go to the toilet, walk over to the gate, and sit and chat with a friend.

Then of course I found out that the majority of the Kuwait passengers just waltzed into the airport at around 8pm (when our plane was due to leave at 9:45, but was of course an hour delayed) and never even saw the tent. They went straight to the check-in queue. Am I doing the wrong thing by being so responsible and organized and arriving early? Maybe I should be one of those last minute passengers who frantically gets to shove up to the front of the queue and quickly checks in. That's gonna be me from now on.

The Hassles and Magic of Christmas

2006-12-11T01:02:00.000+03:00

Doing Christmas tree lights is an OCD perfectionist's worst nightmare. Ever since I was a kid I would feel tense and uncomfortable as I watched my older sisters and mother getting the lights up before we could start decorating the tree. When I lived alone in the States I only had a small tree because I would leave for vacation so early in December that it didn't really matter. So I never had to worry about the lights myself. Last year in London was the first time I ever had a medium-sized tree of my own to decorate in my flat. But I actually found a tree in Cargo Homestore that came with the lights pre-attached to it, which was perfect because it meant I wouldn't have to worry about doing the lights myself. Just put the tree together, plug it in, and - hey presto! - the lights would come on, all perfectly placed around the tree. It was an OCD's dream come true.

But alas, nothing gold can stay. This year I unpacked my Christmas tree, put the whole thing together, plugged it in, and tragedy struck. Two whole rows of lights weren't working. I tried playing electrician for about an hour but all I did was end up turning off one more whole row of lights. Finally, I gave up. I decided I would have to remove the pre-sets, buy a new string of lights, and just do my best.

Well, removing the lights turned out to be much more of a hassle than I'd bargained for. Imagine 200 twinkle lights, each and every one attached to the branches of the tree with two of those little green clips you see on my coffee table in the picture. What you see here is nothing - there were hundreds of those little clips by the time I was done. I keep finding random ones scattered around my flat. Anyway, it took me about two hours, lots of frustration, and a few scratches on my hands to get them all off.

Then the next day I bought a new set of lights and decided that I could do this - how hard could it be? Holy crap. First of all, it wasn't just a simple string of lights - one row of wire with lights attached. No, the thing was split into two parallel rows - imagine one long row, folded in half, with the two ends meeting together at the plug. That's what it was like. How on earth do you string those around a tree? I'd only ever watched my sisters and Mom doing the single row one when I was a kid (although they had to use two full strings to cover our whole tree, which was always huge because we'd buy a real one).

Suffice it to say, it took me ages. I won't go into the details because only those of you with OCD will understand - the rest will just think I'm nuts. I finally managed to get the string all around the tree after about two hours (with a 20 minute break in between). Then of course, it was another hour as I sat on the couch and analyzed the distribution of the lights and kept fine-tuning it.

I hate this disease.

Anyway, once that was done, I finally got to decorate it. It felt kind of pathetic doing it all alone. I even downloaded some of the Christmas songs we used to listen to when we were kids while decorating the tree (OK OK, I'll admit it, it was the Boney M. Christmas album). But once it was done, I made myself a mug of hot chocolate, lit up some candles, played some Bach fugues, and I felt warm and peaceful. Well worth the hassle. As I sat there looking at the tree I remembered my lovely mother. She always added the finishing touch to the tree when we were done - the tinsle. My mother made Christmas - and life - magical, and even though she is no longer with us to celebrate it, the magic she brought to it is still inside me and my sisters and Dad. Nothing in life has ever beat that feeling of Christmas morning when we were kids - that absolute pure family joy. So, even though I'm 27, Christmas will always make me feel like a kid again.

I'm having some friends over on Wednesday evening for some warm Christmassy drinks which I cannot describe here, gingerbread men, a chocolate yule log cake, and I'm tempted to get mince pies because I've never had them and just cannot possibly imagine what they're like. Everyone will go home with a candy cane off the tree. I love this season.

(If anyone points out the gap in lights on the bottom left part of the tree in this picture, I'll deck you. Pun intended. Get it, get it? Deck the halls? Anyway, it only looks that way in the picture. It's fine in real life...Raine.)

Innocent Christmas

2006-12-03T20:25:00.000+03:00

Best marketing-cum-charity campaign ever. Innocent smoothies are being sold with these little woolen hats for Christmas. It's part of a campaign known as "supergran": the hats were made by volunteers and for every drink bought with a hat on, 50p goes to Age Concern, a charity that assists the elderly in the winter. Read more about it here.

The whole idea is just wonderful. When I saw them all in a row at Sainsbury's, each with a different style and colour hat, I nearly flipped. Yet another reason to adore Innocent. The one on the left is my favourite flavour, and the one on the right is a yummy holiday "guest smoothie". Sometimes people just know how to do things right.

P.S. Speaking of doing things right, my MA results came out this Friday. I am happy to say I got a Distinction (highest classification).

Now London is complete*

2006-11-15T02:46:00.000+03:00

Now I can buy Lucky Charms cereal, Jif peanut butter, Dr. Pepper, and Orville Redenbachers popcorn - all right here in Covent Garden, less than 10 minutes walking distance from my flat!

I was walking from Covent Garden to Southbank for dinner the other night with a couple of friends and we walked by this bright colourful store called CyberCandy that caught my attention. But we were in a bit of a hurry and I couldn't stop to go in, so I made a mental note of it. I saw their website address lit up in red neon lights at the back of the store, and when I got home I checked it out.

I can't explain the joy it brought me. You have to see for yourself.

Now some of you will get it, others will think I'm insane, or obese - of which I am neither! Let me explain. I spent good chunks of my childhood in the States - where we would spend three months of the year in California. Those were the days when Kuwait didn't have much, snack-wise, other than what you'd find in the baqalas. Don't get me wrong - I loved that stuff growing up, and I still do. But anyone who has been to one of those huge American supermarkets - especially in California - can imagine the joyous wonder that would hit whenever we'd arrive for the start of our three months of pure bliss. Everything was bright and colourful - everything looked, smelled, and tasted magical - and all was delightfully packaged and presented on the shelves in endless rows. Consumerism to the max - and as a kid, you just wanted to wallow in it! Anyway, it was our one chance in the year to really indulge - we'd been good for nine months and this was our reward. My Mom would let my sisters and I pile up our shopping cart with Lucky Charms, New York Seltzers, Doritos and dip, muenster cheese (with sourdough bread, one of our summer breakfast favourites), Wonder bread, Entenmanns mini powdered donuts, beef jerky, oatmeal raisin cookies, Louis Rich turkey, Oscar Mayer hotdogs, the whole range of Hostess cakes, Pepperidge Farm goldfish crackers, Stove Top stuffing, Popsicles (the original brand), etc. Not that we'd pig out on a regular basis. My parents let us indulge a bit, but we still ate healthy meals and would have these goodies as our snacks. My Mom would unload all the different munchies into large air-tight containers and keep them in the cupboard so they would stay fresh for quite some time. I guess you have to know my family, know my Mom, and know our home to understand the warm, happy feeling I get whenever I think of those big white containers in the cupboard above the counter. It wasn't simply about the food - it was what it all represented. The start of our magical escape from reality that those summers were for our family. The carefree days of childhood summer ecstasy: picnics with friends in the park, boogie-boarding through the enormous waves at Laguna Beach, the Sawdust Art Festival, bike riding, late-night beach bonfires with s'mores, Magic Mountain, endless movies, South Coast Plaza, etc. Life really was "magically delicious!"

Anyway, I went to college on the east coast and although all those edible delights of my childhood were now at my fingertips on a daily basis, it didn't really mean as much to me anymore. And of course, now even Kuwait has some of the munchies we once had to wait all year to get (some, but not as much as you'd think). So I guess the things you delight in as a child, you take for granted - or no longer see the value in - as an adult. Of couse not. Now we know what beef jerky actually is. Now we know how artificial Hostess cupcakes are - and that Twinkies are downright frightening. Now we watch our weight and no longer have the metabolism of childhood to burn off all the calories from a Ding Dong.

But I'll be perfectly honest. I still love munchies once in a while. And nobody knows how to make munchies quite like they do it in the States. I'm talking munchies here, not actual "food". When it comes to real food - I'm actually a bit of a snob. I buy French cheese and Italian meats and fresh-baked bread and organic vegetables, and the only thing that comes out of a jar in my fridge is Dijon mustard. But when I want to get down and dirty with some so-bad-for-you-but-oh-so-yummy comfort food, American munchies all the way (except, of course, when it comes to chocolate bars). And yes, yes I know, I know - that's why their kids are getting ever more unhealthy and obese. But if having these products on the shelves means careless parents are gonna stuff their children with junk 24/7, that's their problem, not mine. I like to indulge in moderation - as a once-in-a-while treat. So to me: Froot Loops = good, Duncan Hines = great, peanut butter and jelly = amazing!

And now knowing that I can get all this if I want it, right here in London...well it makes me feel like a kid in California all over again! I guess that's the point really. It all reminds me of my childhood. I know that if I tasted some of this stuff for the first time as an adult, I'd probably gag (again, I'm thinking about those crazy Twinkies). In fact, I went to the CyberCandy store the next day and while I literally felt like a kid in a candy store (although their stock wasn't as extensive as the website), I left empty-handed and haven't ordered anything off their website. But just knowing it's there whenever I may want it is good enough for me.

Incidentally, and perhaps conveniently, I happened to join a new gym this week, so all is safe (fat-wise).

Side note: One thing I found strange is that on the CyberCandy site they have Big Red gum listed under German products?! Remember Big Red? I had forgotten it existed until just now, and yet I remember the song from the commercial so well. "So kiss a little longer, stay close a little longer, pull tight a little longer, longer with Big Red, that Big Red freshness lasts right through it, your fresh breath goes on and on, while you chew it, say goodbye a little longer, make it last a little longer, give your breath long-lasting freshness...with Big Red!" (I know my sisters are singing along right now. Next - Juicy Fruit!)

P.S. Raine: check it out - my nightmare! The smell! I'm feeling dizzy and sick just thinking about it.

* Except, of course, for the fact that my P and family are not here! But, you know, superficially speaking!

For Edo Rex and P

2006-10-29T22:53:00.000+03:00

Can we climb this mountain
I don't know
Higher now than ever before
I know we can make it if we take it slow
Let's take it easy
Easy now, watch it go!!!
P.S. The Thin White Duke and Lindbergh Palace Dubs are gonna leave you guys in pieces, as will their respective remixes. Sample here:

When You Were Young (Jacques Lu Cont's Thin White Duke Mix)
When You Were Young (The Lindbergh Palace Remix)
When You Were Young (Jacques Lu Cont's Thin White Duke Dub)
When You Were Young (The Lindbergh Palace Dub)

(I prefer the Lindbergh Palace remix over the JCL one, but I haven't decided between the dubs because they're quite similar.)

Wires and Gadgets

2006-10-29T00:48:00.003+03:00

I've realized that our lives are completely run by electrical wires. It's unbelievable how many wires I have around my flat. Let's take a look around - and I'll link to pictures of the different electronic gadgets I use in my daily life, just for fun!

At my desk I have my Philips cordless landline phone with two wires - one to the power socket and one to the jack. Then I have my broadband modem plugged into the wall, with another wire coming into my PowerBook. Then there's my PowerBook charger. And the power cord to my HP printer. That takes us to my printer table. In the top drawer there are four USB/firewire cables ready to be connected to my PowerBook: printer, Canon camera, iPod, and LaCie portable harddrive.

Next, over to the TV area. Now here we have all sorts of stuff, so I'm going to eliminate the interconnecting wires and just go straight to the ones with power-supply cables. Sony TV, Sky satellite receiver, Telewest cable receiver (comes free with my landline and modem) - those three are plugged in by default. Then I have four other cables ready in waiting: Aiwa CD/DVD player, subwoofer for surround speakers, white Pro-Ject Audio turntable, and Pro-ject Audio phono pre-amplifier (which is only about the size of my hand). My CD/DVD player is currently out-of-order but I have to plug it in when I play my turntable because it connects to the amplifier, so whenever I want to listen to my vinyls I unplug the three TV/satellite/cable plugs and put in the four others. I guess I could do all seven at once but it just freaks me out having that many things plugged into only two wall sockets at once!

Anyway, let's move around my flat to the corner of my kitchen counter that overlooks the "dining room" (the far end of the counter that I don't use for cooking purposes) - that's where I keep my iPod and Canon chargers, tucked away in the corner. Then turn around to the countertop near the stove. Three plugs there: Russell Hobbs toaster and kettle, and a generic sandwich maker (although the latter I usually keep inside the cupboard). Then of course, down by the floor are the fridge and washer/dryer plugs. On to the bedroom. (But on the way if you peek behind the living room door which is always kept open by a doorstop, you'll see a vacuum cleaner hidden away in the corner with another plug in waiting. And if you peek under the bed you'll find the iron also waiting. Not worth pictures!)

Then by my nightstand there are three plugs: my bedside lamp, Sony Ericsson charger, and Tivoli Audio radio A/C adapter. Then there's also one last little wire in the drawer - to connect my iPod to my Tivoli Audio.

And let's not forget the wire that travels with me daily - from my headphones to my iPod! Depending on the day, where I'm going, and how big/full my bag is, it'll either be my Sennheisers, or my Panasonics (silver, not blue - and I know these are quite old and outdated but I love them).

That's a helluva lot of wires! And I'm not even any sort of techie-geek. I can only imagine how many cables you guys have, and I certainly can't imagine what it would be like if P and I lived together. As for my gadgets, I need a few upgrades, as you can see. First is my mobile (which I've had for over two years and currently looks like a dog chewed it), and my iPod (which recently died and was resuscitated but is ready for a replacement). Then something needs to be done about my CD/DVD player. Some audio-techie guys I know have offered to try fixing it for me for free. Hopefully that will work because, although it is a few years old, it is really compact and sleek-looking, and I'd hate to give it up. Finally, I also want a much more advanced camera but I'm not going to worry about that until I move back to Kuwait next year - for now I love this one because it's so compact and the quality is great.

Anyway, I guess I should mention that the reason I was thinking about all this tonight was because I spent the better part of my evening re-organising all the wires and cables around my TV area. Just another Saturday night. I guess I am a geek after all!

Why? - II

2006-10-25T02:41:00.000+03:00

Last week I decided that once a week I would post old pictures of Kuwait that I have come across in various books, to open up the discussion as to why our country has changed so much, and not for the better. Here is my post for this week:

Why, or rather how, did our once cosmopolitan and open-minded culture turn into a two-part society battling between strip-mall-Vegas-style-consumerism, on the one hand, and ultra-religious fanaticism on the other?

(I apologize in advance for the quality of these photos - they are quite old and didn't scan well so I had to resort to taking pictures of them with my Canon.)

Here is a copy of the original plan used to design the inside of the Kuwait Towers, specifically the largest sphere containing the restaurant. (I've zoomed in so you can get a better view.) I think these pictures are self-explanatory.

Here is an old picture taken in the seventies of the indoor garden of the main sphere.

And here is an old picture of the seafront just outside the Kuwait Towers...

...the same seafront which now consists of:

I rest my case.

They've done it again

2006-10-20T01:52:00.000+03:00

Sony Bravia has launched their new advert this week (I suggest you watch it before reading on). The ad, directed by Jonathan Glazer, shows tens of thousands of liters of coloured paint exploding over and around large apartment complexes in Glasgow. You can see close-up images of how it was done here.

I've been waiting for this ad to come out for a while. I had seen some home videos on YouTube that people who watched the paint explosions live in Glasgow had taken. The concept is just fantastic - real paint exploding over a city...can't get any better than that! I love the fact that the people behind Sony Bravia's ads have been thinking way outside the box and love to take risks with these one-chance-to-get-it-right ideas. But, while I think it's an amazing ad, it still doesn't beat their last "bouncing balls" ad, which was just amazing. I was totally awe-struck when I first saw it - it gave me such a warm and happy feeling inside. This new ad has a totally different feel to it, which I wasn't really expecting. While the earlier ad was more gentle and emotional, this one is more grand and even slightly comical. But it's still great. The paint looks so inviting - I want to just swim in it, especially the blue and green. My favourite part is when the paint comes gushing down the graffiti-covered stairwells. Again, what an ingenious idea.

Make sure to watch the behind the scenes video too!

Why?

2006-10-15T23:56:00.001+03:00

I have read more books on Kuwait than I think the majority of people even realize exist...ones written as early as the 1800s, and as late as 2006...on every possible topic you can imagine. And in reading these always fascinating studies on our little country, I regularly come across such a huge range of photographs taken of Kuwait through the ages. Not the stereotypical ones we're all used to, but really interesting, unique ones that make you raise an eyebrow and, at least in my case, think: how, why, did things go so unbelievably wrong? The other day I was sitting in a café reading a book I picked up that was published in the early 1980s, and it had such great pictures of Kuwait from the pre-oil days through to when it was published. There were pictures that just broke my heart. I don't know whether anyone else out there gets as emotional as I do when looking at old pictures of Kuwait, and I know this is going to sound really schmaltzy and pathetic, but at one point while flipping through the book with my iPod on, I actually started crying ever so slightly. There were pictures of a Kuwait I never knew through first-hand experience, but that I know so well in my mind that I actually miss it. And then there were pictures of Kuwait that I remember from when I was a kid...a Kuwait that has thoroughly disappeared. This book was published at a time when Kuwait was still on the path to being something really incredible. And now, I can't help feeling as though we took so many turns in so many wrong directions, and it really makes me feel sad.

So anyway, I thought that from now on I would share some of these pictures that I come across with you. Every Sunday evening, I will post a new photograph under the general heading of "Why?" Why did we let things change so much? Why did we let go and fall so hard? Why did we make so many mistakes, when we were on such a right path? And so on. And after the picture of Kuwait in the past, I will juxtapose it with something similar or fitting from Kuwait today, to emphasize how drastically things have changed, and usually not for the better. So here is my first "Why?" post for you to enjoy, and (if you're anything like me) for you to cry over.

Why are all the nicest spots in Kuwait taken over by the worst franchises?

Here is a picture of an old Kuwaiti coffee shop called "Qahwa Nuwaiydr" in 1939.

I will never understand why 99% of the old Kuwait Town was torn down with the advent of oil urbanization. But what I fail to understand even more, is why we have handed over the few buildings that still remain to globalization.

This picture is of the Starbucks at Behbehani Complex. Granted, the Behbehani buildings are not technically classified under the original old Kuwaiti architecture of the town - which were simple mudbrick houses that rarely had a second level. The Behbehani neighbourhood was built in the 1940s, but was certainly inspired by the traditional courtyard houses of the old town. In any event, today it is one of the oldest and most unique pre-1960s buildings that wasn't torn down to make way for the poor planning that was to plague Kuwait City for the second half of the 20th century. So why, oh why, have we given such a beautiful and rare piece of Kuwait's heritage to Starbucks?! Why is Kuwait so franchise-obsessed? I am all for turning Behbehani Complex and the other few old buildings that remain into areas that the general public can enjoy. But why not turn this into a more traditional style coffee shop? Unfortunately, Kuwait hasn't fully grasped the ability to fuse traditional with modern. For example, if this was turned into a regular "gahwa", chances are it would be like the coffee shop you might have never noticed located on the extreme other end of the same complex (just after Casper & Gambini's), humourously named "Gahwat Ghazal". A sketchy, seedy, questionable meeting ground for greasy men and niqab-clad women. But anyway, my point is, they could have turned this into a beautiful old-style coffee shop that "normal" men and women could enjoy. I'm not saying that everything has to be "traditional". A few places in Kuwait did a good job mixing traditional architecture with modern design concepts. Gusto was a good example, although unfortunately it closed down. Some of the other parts of Behbehani Complex are nice too. But I'm just saying, if you're going to open a coffee shop in an old Kuwaiti house, why does it have to be a Starbucks? It just breaks my heart.

Academic Update

2006-10-06T02:40:00.000+03:00

I officially started my PhD programme today. We had our first methodology seminar, and I was surprised to see that there are about 20 people doing the history PhD (I was expecting much less). I absolutely love the professor who is conducting the seminar - he is everything a research student could ever ask for in a professor: academically fantastic, friendly, open, funny, easy-going, unbelievably caring, and very approachable. Between him and my research supervisor, I count myself as incredibly lucky as far as my committee goes (we still have to choose number 3). Yes, I am very excited about this year. Tomorrow I sink back into the archives at the British Library. Aahhh, heaven.

I will also be starting French classes next week at the Institut Français in South Kensington. I haven't taken French in nearly 15 years. As an undergrad I studied Italian for two years and for a while there I was practically fluent in it - and it thoroughly wiped out my French. But after I moved back to Kuwait I barely had a chance to practice my Italian at all, and in time I began to lose it. Five years on, I decided to take advantage of my time in London to work on a language again - and the choices I gave myself were to either re-do Italian since I'm more advanced in it, or start over with French. I chose French. If I do Italian, the same thing will happen all over again - once I move back to Kuwait I'll have no one to practice with (other than our friend G, but we always seem to speak in English when we're with the rest of the group!), and so I'll end up losing it again. On the other hand, I'll be able to speak French daily and so have a much better chance of becoming relatively fluent in it, on a permanent basis. Plus, I come across French more in my research than I do Italian (of course there is scholarly work written in both languages in my field, but unlike Italian there are also some French primary sources I could look into). Anyway, back to my point. So I had originally planned on starting from the very beginning with French, but the institute advised me to first take a placement test (yesterday). I ended up in Level 2, which I was quite pleased about considering how long it's been! I did much better than I expected on the written test. As for the oral interview, I started off fine with the first question. But when she started asking much more open-ended questions, I started to feel blocked because every time I'd open my mouth to speak my instinct would go straight to Italian and I'd freeze. I still managed to get a bit out in French, but I explained my dilemma to her and we laughed it off. She said not to worry, that it was normal for someone who has studied more than one Romance language, and she was still going to put me in Level 2 because with a bit of practice my instincts will change again. I'm taking the fast-paced course, so hopefully I'll be able to get through several levels before I move back to Kuwait.

So that's the latest on the academic front. It's all happening...

P.S. Spent some time in Paperchase this morning getting my new set of notebooks (of course, a supply for the next three years, to ensure continuity). Got different sizes from the same series for different purposes (seminar notes, reading notes, supervisor meeting notes, archive notes, French notes, etc.). My sisters will understand and appreciate this side of me! I also got a new Filofax (a brand I haven't used in years) - they have some cool new styles and the one you see in this picture just jumped off the shelf into my arms.

Adventure Island Revisited

2006-09-30T04:13:00.000+03:00

This is probably the first time I write a post asking my fellow bloggers for (technical) help.

Fractal00's latest post got me thinking. I'm not at all into modern day video games of any sort. My gaming identity ends with Namco's Galaga and Nintendo's Adventure Island, both of which my sisters and I used to play in the 80s on one of those old school Nintendo consoles. Of course there was also lots of Pacman, Super Mario Bros., and Tetris (and in the earlier years, Atari). But Galaga and Adventure Island were our favourites. In DC there is a pool hall called Georgetown Billiards that has an old vintage Galaga arcade machine. When I first discovered it, I went nuts. My friends and I used to go there quite often to play pool (which I also love), and I would change like $5 into quarters and just sit there for hours playing Galaga (OK, so sometimes it was $10). To be honest, there were even some days when I would be shopping or running errands around Georgetown alone, and would wander in there and just play for over an hour. Then a couple of years ago I was back in DC visiting friends and I found a dream-come-true in Urban Outfitters. Some company (don't know if it was actually Namco and Atari or some third party) had released a series of joysticks with built-in vintage games that you can just plug into your TV and play. I bought a Namco one that had Galaga, Ms. Pacman, and a car racing game, and an Atari one with a bunch of old Atari games.

Now, to show you just how out-of-date I am when it comes to these things, I have never once in my entire life touched a PlayStation or Xbox. Ever. I don't know why, but I just don't find the idea of modern games as fun as those old two-dimensional games. (Oh wait, there was brief period of my life when I used to play Street Fighter all the time at an arcade in Italy. But anyway...)

Two years ago I mentioned to Stallion that I used to love playing Adventure Island. Then one day he shows up with his laptop and the game downloaded for me to play. I was ecstatic! I hadn't played it since I was a kid, and it brought back so many memories. I started to remember where all the hidden eggs were, when something would shoot out at you from nowhere, where the hidden passageways were, etc. I remember asking him how he got it and he began explaining it to me, but I started to get lost so just decided to play on his computer instead. But now, after reading fractal00's latest post, it got me thinking about Adventure Island again. I would love to get it to play on my PowerBook. So here's where my request for help comes in.

I consider myself to be pretty technologically savvy. When I need to learn something new, I feel lost at first, but once I throw myself into it (with a bit of guidance at the beginning), I pick it up fine. So anyway, is there anyone out there who would like to take a bit of time to explain to me how I can go about downloading Adventure Island onto my Mac (preferably for free but we'll see)? I know I could just do a bit of research online myself and figure it out but in this instance I'm going to be lazy and hope that someone wants to help me out! Also, once I do download it, is it possible to get some sort of (simple!) joystick to plug into my PowerBook to play from? Am I sounding like a total idiot to those of you who know what you're doing?

People Gotta Lighten Up

2006-09-28T04:13:00.000+03:00

I want to write about something that has really upset me regarding this blog. I just received comments on my post from July about my review of the Paul van Dyk gig in Beirut. In my post I pointed out the things that we didn't like about it - about the event itself. About PVD's set and how it wasn't what we were used to from him, the heat, the difference between rave crowds today and how it used to be in the earlier days, all the trash on the floor, etc. I was pointing these things out to show the areas where the event could improve. In the comments section there then ensued a lively discussion about raves, trance music, DJ's, etc. Then suddenly today I received three hostile comments calling me a racist, anti-Arab, anti-Lebanese, and other insulting things like that. I can take criticism, but I will not tolerate that.

First of all, these two kids failed to realize that I am Arab (they called me American), and that I am also part Lebanese. Second of all, why do people assume that if you are criticizing something as small as a one-night event, you are criticizing a people as a whole?? If they think I don't "qualify" to offer my opinion, I also spoke to many Lebanese people who were there that night who said the exact same things that I did. Were they also being anti-Lebanese racists? What I have realized through this blog and reading other blogs is that people just do not see the difference between offering constructive criticism, and being political. People just love to jump on the defensive and call people anti-this and anti-that. I've seen it in other blogs too. When a non-Kuwaiti mentions something he doesn't like in Kuwait, he then gets all these comments from people telling him to get the hell out. I just don't understand that mentality (which is usually given by people who are too young to understand how to discuss things without getting hysterical). It's so childish to get all riled up and hostile about something as silly as a rave - especially when our region has so many other critical things we should be concentrating on.

Anyway, I've just come to realize that people will always attack you for your own opinions, even in as informal a setting as a blog. If you identify an area for improvement, they will call you a racist. What these people fail to realize, is that it is precisely us who should identify the areas for improvement in our own region, because we are the ones who should be working to make things better for ourselves. I'm not going to stick my head in the sand and just because I am an Arab say that everything in the Middle East is the best in the world. No, when I see things that can be better, I'm going to point them out. And that's what separates people like me from people like that. They will never make a difference in our region because they immediately get on the defensive and can't take criticism. I, on the other hand, will always have my eyes open for areas of improvement to help make my country, my region, and my people absolutely perfect. I will be working for the rest of my life to help this region rise to the top - in every little thing. Socially, politically, economically, and yes, even when it comes to something as seemingly trivial as a rave. Because if we don't strive to be better, who will? And to those who want to attack people for wanting our region to be perfect - it is you who I consider to be the racist.

In the meantime, I've realized that people just can't handle an insignificant little opinion, and for that I'm just going to just stop offering one. It's not worth it because this evidently is not a forum for discussion, but rather one to attack and insult. If people want to be hostile, let them do it in their own space. I prefer my blog to be about discussion, debate, sharing ideas and opinions, and even individual criticism about me if people so choose. But outright slander by being called a racist simply because I thought there was too much trash on the floor or because I thought it was silly that so many people were wearing sunglasses indoors - that I will not tolerate.

Enrolled*

2006-09-27T02:53:00.000+03:00

I officially enrolled into my PhD programme today. The morning was quite hectic - taking care of all the logistical stuff. But the advantage I had was that I'm a returning student so I got to skip quite a bit. It's actually a strange feeling, going from the MA to PhD programmes, because so many people have left, and so many new people have come in, and I just sit somewhere in between. Nearly all the MA students I knew have either gone to other schools (everyone follows a supervisor), or have gone to work. So it's strange being a returning student without knowing many people, and at the same time enrolling in a new programme and having to go through it all over again.

Anyway, the second part of the day was great. I had a nice long meeting with my research supervisor (same professor who supervised my MA), and we set up our regular one-on-one meetings this year for once every two weeks, starting this coming Monday. I then met with the professor who will be conducting the history research methodology seminar, who is new to the university and who I absolutely loved. He defaults as a member of my research committee, which I am ecstatic about because I really got along well with him. Then later in the day there was a reception for all PhD students, and I finally bumped into someone who was with me last year - a girl who I really like both personally and academically, and who I am very happy is going to be in my programme.

What struck me most while I was in the history department today, meeting with faculty and saying hi to people, was how shockingly different the whole experience already is. As one of the professors said during the reception today, we are now in between being students and being academics - and you really do feel it. It's life on a whole different plane, and I love it. You feel that your relationship with the university has changed. I think it's probably most detectable when you attend the same place for the MA and PhD. Then you can really compare the difference. You feel different when you talk to faculty, and to each other. Chatting with one of my professors from last year in the corridor, exchanging stories about our research experiences over the summer - me for my dissertation and him for his latest book - I just felt that much closer on an academic level. I feel like I have climbed up such a huge step since May/June, and I am so ready to get started on this now.

This is what I love. This is why I'm here. I am looking forward to this year more than I ever have to anything I have ever done in my life. It's going to be a tremendous amount of work, but I'm excited about that. This really is a labour of love...it has to be, otherwise you really won't be able to survive. And I'm more than ready for it.

But in the meantime...I have just under one more week of pure freedom!

* Just to clarify, in the British system "enrollment" as an activity is more or less equivalent to registration and orientation in the American system, but, in the case of my uni, without the luxury of an online system. It's basically the process of letting them know you're here, paying and/or finalizing scholarship info, collecting handbooks, getting your ID if you're a new student, and finally registering for classes if in a taught programme. There are also all the other "orientation" types of activities for students who are new to the university. In my case, as a research student who is also returning, I just had to wait in a long queue to activate my file, double-check my scholarship details, and pick up my research student logbook. The rest is all done directly in my department. Nothing actually starts, however, until next week.

Early Morning Lullaby

2006-09-25T03:59:00.000+03:00

My current favourite song is "12:59 Lullaby" by Bedouin Soundclash. They're a really good Canadian band (as so many really cool musicians are), that sort of fuses reggae with indie rock. This song is the first release off their third album "Street Gospels," to be released in 2007. It's just such a wonderful song. Their vocalist Jay Malinowski is one of those singers whose voice just works so well for my ears - like Ben Gibbard of Death Cab for Cutie/The Postal Service, although the two have very different sounds. Ben's voice is angelic, while Jay's is more raw, yet equally sweet. But the way he sounds in this latest song just tugs at my heartstrings. This is the kind of song you watch the sun rise over the city to. Like the best of them, it is bitter-sweet. You're not quite sure if you're happy, or sad - most probably a little bit of both. It makes you yearn for something - it makes you miss with all your heart.

You can listen to "12:59 Lullaby" here.

"It’s suddenly early morning
The only sound is my breathing
As I lay awake not knowing
Where it will be I’m going
But I know
Time moves slow..."

London's Kuwaitis, and Me

2006-09-22T00:23:00.000+03:00

The other night I was on a bus heading west up to Kilburn to visit my friends' new flat. As we were passing through Oxford Street a guy came on and sat next to me and asked in a very strong accent if the bus passed in front of Selfridges. I said yes, and was sure the guy was Arab, and very possibly Gulfie. Now, I had my "Kuwait bag" with me, and it was laying on my lap, soor side up. Anyway, the guy started chatting to me, telling me that he was tired and that he had walked more today than he had ever walked before. I just nodded and smiled and gave some stupid reply like "Oh, really?" and then looked out the window. I didn't want to be rude, but at the same time I have become your average Londoner that doesn't always enjoy making small-talk on public transport - especially not with a potential Gulfie (damn my iPod for dying on me!). Anyway, I put my hand over the part of my bag that says "Kuwait gate" in small print, and tried to obstruct the view of the picture (of course I wasn't about to put it on the grimy bus floor). A few minutes into the ride he started chatting again. He told me that "in his country" the shops stayed open from 10am to 10pm, unlike in London (it was about 8pm and the shops on Oxford Street were slowly closing). Anyway, then he said that this was his first time in the UK, and that he was sent here on a course from his work. I kept nodding and smiling and giving my one-word-feigned-interest answers, all the while realizing that this guy was definitely khaleeji. He kept going on about how he worked for a petroleum company (the signs didn't need to be more obvious than that!), and the projects he's worked on and places he's been sent to. I kept trying to be polite while simultaneously trying to end the conversation by fiddling with my phone, while desperately trying to cover up my bag. Then, as he was finishing off a sentence with the phrase "my country", he added, "...Kuwait...I am from Kuwait." I looked him straight in the face and just said, "Oh yeah, really? That's nice." And you know those moments when you feel like you're going to explode into a childish, hysterical fit of laughter? I'm amazed that I was able to keep such a straight face in that moment. And as I said my innocent "that's nice" comment, I picked up the bag of groceries I had on the floor that I was taking up to my friends' place for dinner and proceeded to plop it on my lap right on top of the soor, while maintaining eye-contact so he wouldn't notice. All he had to do was look down and the jig would have been up! As he continued talking, to avoid laughing and to try to get out of the situation I sent an sms to my friend Abs who is in town to "Please call me!" Then the bus stopped outside of Bond Street station and he asked if he could get a superman costume for his son at the Disney Store across the street and I said I doubted it because Superman wasn't done by Disney. Then I added, "This is the stop for Selfridges, by the way, if that's where you're going?" and I pointed to where it was (it really was the right stop!) and he quickly thanked me and jumped off.

Poor guy. First time in London, and he had absolutely no idea that (probably) the first bus he went on, he happened to be sitting next to none other than a Kuwaiti girl! I really just did not feel like being a Kuwaiti at that moment - too many questions, too much overly-jubilant small-talk. I know it might sound mean of me to have withheld information like that from him - which in such a point blank circumstance is tantamount to lying - but I just really didn't feel in the mood.

I've had more run-ins with Kuwaitis this week than I have had in my entire year in London. I never see Kuwaitis much in my part of town because they tend to stay west of Oxford Circus. But I also happen to live on a street with a very popular restaurant that the Gulfies love. I am actually glad for the presence of the place because it has rescued my street (which is nothing more than a glorified alley) from being really dodgy at night! The rest of the street/alley is dotted with really dingy pubs and a couple of Spanish tapas bars that have quasi-hidden entrances and potential mafia attachments. (Let me say here, though, that despite the dark shadows, I love my street - it's one of the funkiest streets in London, in my opinion.) Anyway, so the other night I had my window open and I suddenly heard a loud "shukran 3ammy" ("thank you, uncle") from the street downstairs. I peered out my window and saw a family of Kuwaitis getting into a Mercedes directly beneath me. I propped my elbows on the window sill and watched them chat happily in a language that only I could understand for miles, and in that moment, at that safe distance, I missed my fellow countrymen and women. Until my next encounter.

Later in the week I went downstairs at around 8pm clad in jeans, a sweatshirt I sleep in, and sneakers to grab something to drink from Sainsbury's. I mention my outfit because as I opened my front door I got the attention of a chickie-dee who was standing a few feet away talking loudly on her mobile in full-on Kuwaiti, decked to the nines, and who gave me a disapproving (read: bitchy) once- (read: twice-) over as I passed by. "Maskeeeeena," she probably said to herself, thinking how happy she was to be staying in South Ken and not in the (comparative) slums like this poor girl, dressed like a boy. Little did she know, the girl was a Kuwaiti too. All that disapproval and disdain in her eyes...just imagine the looks I would have gotten if she knew I was Kuwaiti! I've had one or two other instances since I've lived here where I've passed Kuwaitis on my street on my way to or from my front door, and I actually find it hilarious, and a bit empowering. I'll stare them right in the face and they'll have no idea, because 1) I don't look Kuwaiti, and 2) no Kuwaiti in their right mind would live anywhere other than an SW or NW postcode.

Note: I'd never heard of the restaurant before moving to the street and it was a few months after moving in that I discovered the Kuwaitis love it. It's official - you can't escape them. For such a small population, we certainly have explored the depths of the globe.

The Soundtrack of Our Beginning

2006-09-21T04:54:00.000+03:00

"Don't waste your time on me you're already the voice inside my head...I miss you, miss you." ("I Miss You" - Blink 182)

"But the thing that makes me love you...Is the unforgettable smell of your skin." ("Walkabout" - The Sugarcubes)

"I lie in my bed - totally still...My eyes wide open - I'm in rapture...I don't believe this - I'm in love..." ("Hit" - The Sugarcubes)

"You left a world of memories...Capacious as the sea...Between eternity and time...Your consciousness and me." ("Legacy" - Push) - (lyrics are a twist of Emily Dickinson's poem "You Left Me, Sweet, Two Legacies")

"I forgot that I might see...So many beautiful things...I forgot that I might need...To find out what life could bring." ("Beautiful Things" - Andain)

A Myth Indeed

2006-09-19T00:42:00.000+03:00

On Saturday night I went to see the show Qaddafi: A Living Myth at the Coliseum. The production has been categorized as an opera/musical - or, to put it more accurately, an "anti-musical", as its creator Steve Chandra Savale has described it. Steve and the Asian Dub Foundation collaborated with the English National Opera, and Production Director David Freeman, to put together this mixture of theatre, music, dance, and film - and, of course, political commentary.

In terms of the music, I thought the production was fantastic. To combine the ENO orchestra, the Asian Dub Foundation band, Arab musicians playing oud and violin, with a pre-recorded backing track playing drum'n'bass and breakbeats - it was definitely a musical collision, that worked. Also, the dialogue of the play was delivered by the actors in a not-quite-spoken, not-quite-sung style - I guess the best way to describe it would be operatic rap. The text had its own rhyme and rhythm that complimented the music well, and the libretto writer Shan Khan has described it as "Shakespearian hip-hop." The dance choreography (yes, there was dance!) fused very well with the rest of the production as well - it was very urban and it definitely got you pumped up. The set was very simple, the main feature being large sheets of white paper on the back wall projecting video images throughout, which was a very nice touch. There was quite often a cameraman on stage filming Qaddafi, just like in real life, and at those times the live video that the cameraman was filming would project off the sheets behind (again, just like on regular Libyan TV). As for the acting, great job all around. Ramon Tikaram did an absolutely fabulous job playing Qaddafi. He got the mannerisms of the man down perfectly. Martin Turner as Ronald Reagan was also fantastic - you really felt like punching him in the chin - as was the rest of the cast.

On to what the production is actually "about". The show follows the life of Muammar Qaddafi - his background, rise to power, and descent into paranoid dictator - as well as the history of Libya, including the discovery of oil in the 1950s, the rise of the monarchy, Qaddafi's military coup of 1969, the nationalization of Libya's oil in the early 70s, the American raid in 1986, the Pan Am crash over Lockerbie in 1988, up to the meeting between Blair and Qaddafi in 2003. The opera neither glorifies Qaddafi, nor does it categorically vilify him. It is not controversial in that respect. Rather, it is about the myth of Qaddafi - almost like his own vision of himself.

Running in parallel to the biographic history lesson is the not-so-subtle political message. Basically, what the production shows is that dictators like Qaddafi do not simply form out of nothing, and oftentimes they actually begin with a solid vision in mind. In Qaddafi's case, his vision was to carry on Nasser's objectives and unite the Arab world, to nationalize Libya's oil and release the region from the hegemonic grip of neo-colonialism (also known as the "seven sisters" - the seven major oil companies vying for power in the region), and even to emancipate women from the abuses of a patriarchal society. However, although his vision might have started off positive, it was not long before paranoia set in, and his fear of being assassinated and overthrown began to overpower his will to do good. His policies and rulings came to be riddled with contradictions and inconsistencies, and his power descended into a ruthless cult of personality.

However, what the play also shows is how the superpowers of the world play the game, and how their hegemonic self-serving policies contribute, in fact lead directly to, the rise of such figures in the Arab world (and elsewhere). Reagan features regularly in the show, and one of the most memorable lines delivered by Ramon Tikaram as Qaddafi was about how there was no difference between Reagan and himself. According to Savale: "In a way Reagan and Qaddafi needed each other to support their own myths, and the piece explores the way leaders get trapped by their own myths." But Qaddafi knows how to play the game right back...he knows how to serve his own interests. Although he started off his career under the umbrella of Nasserist pan-Arabism, most Arab leaders labeled him as insane, crazy, and a joke. After years of nobody taking him seriously as an Arab, Qaddafi decided to turn away from being "Arab" and focus on Africa instead.

Another extremely memorable line, arguably the climax of the night, that Qaddafi says to the audience, is: "If I wasn't here, you'd need an actor to play me." The world will always need a Qaddafi. This production attempts to explore the man behind the myth, and the myth behind the man. Overall, I give it two thumbs up.

I have an MA, and some cool new stuff

2006-09-16T02:51:00.000+03:00

I turned in my dissertation today. It feels oddly anti-climactic. You would think that we would all be out celebrating tonight but I think everyone is just too tired and overwhelmed. I finished editing mine a couple of days ago and received very good feedback from my supervisors earlier in the week, so it actually hasn't been as stressful a week for me as it has been for most others. It does feel good though. I now have two weeks off before my PhD programme begins.

After we turned in our dissertations at 11am, my close friend N (who some of you know) and I went for coffee with another friend and "Abs" (a close friend from Kuwait who is in town with family here). We sat outside enjoying the feeling of being free, with the chilly breeze of autumn rushing over us. After a couple of hours out there, we went for lunch at my favourite burger joint near my flat in Fitzrovia. After lunch Abs and I decided to do a bit of shopping, during which I proceeded to engage in a bit of West Soho post-dissertation-retail-therapy. I am extremely pleased with my purchases of the day - which will probably be my main purchases of the month seeing as I can't afford to do much shopping most of the time!

As I've mentioned before, funky footwear is my weakness (not in the typical girly-girl sense, but rather cool trainers and boots). Anyway, on our way to lunch I passed by a girl sitting on the front steps of a shop on Windmill Street and I immediately fell in love with her shoes. About an hour later Abs and I were on Carnaby Street and as we passed by the Vans store I saw the exact pair but in another colour in the window and so we went in. They didn't have the colour I'd seen so we left, but then when we entered Kingly Court we saw that Vans had an upstairs so we went back in. And there they were!

I tried them on and fell in love with them on the spot. I usually don't like skater shoes that are made for girls - most brands only make girl's shoes in pink and purple and other colours I don't like so I've had to resort to finding really small men's pairs. But these were the first girly ones I loved.

Next stop, a shop called Lazy Oaf, also in Kingly Court. There I bought a bag...

...and a hoodie sweatshirt.

The straps of the bag are my favourite teal blue. And the sweatshirt is because I am my P's "cerise." The sleeves of the sweatshirt are a bit "on-purpose" short because they use children's sizes.

All in all, a good day both academically and retail-wise.

While we're at it, a couple of days ago Abs and I were in Convent Garden and I bought this coffee thermos from Octopus, one of my favourite insane little stores. Those of you who know me will get it.

I plan on using it to smuggle coffee into the library this year. Click here to see what it looks like open.

Elle est partit, mais elle reviendra - a post by "P"

2006-09-07T00:34:00.000+03:00

The weirdest feeling I get is when she leaves - I can't really describe it. It's painful and sad and dark, but at the same time, there is a small good feeling inside hidden in between those painful ones. It's the fact of knowing that she is going to be back soon enough, and, best of all, that being apart during this period is for the good of both of us. It is one of the hardest and yet most important things a person must go through - building and setting up your life in order for you to live happily and comfortably, and to make it last forever.

I am not into writing but my excessive need for self-expression forces me to put this into words. Hugging and cuddling and staring into her eyes and passionate moments are not enough to describe my love for her so at this moment I decided to write it down, with a hope that it will show a part of how I feel. I hope it works.

I think that one of the reasons why a couple sticks together for a lifetime is because it takes a lifetime to describe your love and share it with the other person, and show them what you are all about and how you feel towards them. Words and actions and gestures are the most common methods, but they are slow. I shouldn't be complaining about that because somehow it's great that this is how slow it is...because you get to spend so much time trying to talk, express, write, draw, sketch, do, act, share, show, describe that love of yours, and to reveal that final beautiful sculpture that we pass on to the world through our love and through and to our children.

As a designer, the best way to express myself is to actually design, illustrate, sketch, and draw. I reveal so much in my artwork that I cannot produce when I talk or write. And yet the most fascinating thing is that I am still unable to actually draw or design an artwork that can fully or partially complete the image that I want to show - there is so much I want to tell her and show her, to the extent that the biggest piece of paper or canvas on Earth would not be enough to draw on. If we take it from the point of view of "size doesn't matter", I am still not capable of sitting and starting something because of a "fear" I have inside of me that I am not going to do it perfectly - because what I feel is perfect, whether that word is true or not. The same thing applies if I want to compose music or sounds for her.

I believe this is all good and normal. I know that I am not the only person striving to reach this perfect description and expression. She will help - she does, everyday...every moment we spend together or while being away...every laugh and every tear, adds to our sculpture a touch of beauty and helps in producing the perfect artwork. As much as I have self-confidence in my artistic skills and knowledge, I cannot but honestly say that I am not able to complete this masterpiece alone. I need her help with it, and it is never going to be perfect unless we do it together.

So now, while she is away (my cerise, mamaaaa!), I gave her a brush and all the tools she needs to sculpt and draw, alone, and I will be doing the same here. And everytime she is back we will merge our work together and get a splendid image that we will add to our book of life that we are writing together.

As I told her before, what we are going through right now is like creating a soundtrack. We get the right elements together - we compose and write and shape the best sound lines that fit in perfect harmony with each other. It is a long and hard process, but the end results are surely beautiful. Once done, we hit "play" and we get to hear it, enjoy it, and pass it on to others to listen to and get inspired from.

London Calling

2006-08-29T23:29:00.000+03:00

I have one more week in Kuwait. This summer has flown by. Since coming back from Lebanon, all my days have been spent at home writing my dissertation, and then my evenings have been spent with P - the two of us watching "Prison Break" (finally) and endless episodes of "Curb Your Enthusiasm", having dinner, shopping, playing, talking, laughing, and hanging out with family and friends. Weekends are spent at chalet. It's all gone by too fast. I'm almost done with my dissertation. I have a couple more days of work on it to do here, then I'm going to put it aside for a few days, and then go back to edit and fine tune once I'm back in London.

While I am really sad that my time in Kuwait is almost over, I have actually come to realize that I miss London. I am devastated about the idea of leaving my family and my P in a week. But the idea of being back in London is more pleasurable to me this time around than it was on my previous trips home.

First of all, I'm really looking forward to the two weeks I'll have off between September 15, when I turn in my dissertation, and the beginning of October, when my PhD programme starts. Those will be my first two weeks of proper vacation in over a year. By vacation I mean the first time I'll be totally free from academic stress: no worries, no impending deadlines looming on the horizon, no feelings of guilt when I'm having fun, telling myself that I should be working. This time, it's going to be two weeks of pure down time. I plan on staying in London and just having fun. Some of my friends will be leaving right after we turn in our dissertations to wherever the next stage of their lives takes them, but a core handful are staying on in London to find jobs.

Other little things I'm looking forward to in London: this show my friends and I are going to, which sounds brilliant. The fact that autumn is coming and in a few more weeks I'll be wearing cardigans and Doc Martens again. Getting started on my PhD research and being back in the British Library. The London Film Festival which runs from October 18 to November 2. The French courses I'll be taking this year at the Institut Français. Buying new books. Having a p!nt. Sitting in my flat and writing, with a big mug of coffee and my window open. Walking down the streets with my iPod on. And, all the while, daydreaming about moving back to Kuwait to begin the rest of my life with him.

My (Long) Review of the Burger Hub

2006-08-26T23:24:00.000+03:00

Note: This review is extremely outdated. To read my updated review of the Burger Hub (29 August 2007), with major improvements from this old review, click here.

P and I went to the Burger Hub in Kuwait City tonight for dinner. We'd heard that they were one of the best burger joints in town, so we decided to see for ourselves. Overall, disappointing. Before I get into it, let me say that I'm not trying to be overly critical here. I understand that this is a small Kuwaiti business and it's a very good start, but let me give my honest assessment first and then get into that at the end.

Our first impression when we approached it from the parking lot and when we first walked in was: "Wow. Nice." It's quite small but in a nice way - cute and cozy. They were quite crowded and didn't have a table for two available so we sat at the bar. Once we settled into our seats, we started to look around and take it all in. The first thing I noticed was that every single customer in there was Kuwaiti. Not that it really meant anything to me - it's just something I noticed right off the bat. (Lots of girls dressed to the nines just to eat a burger. Maybe they were trying to impress the cow.)

As I sat at the bar, one of the first things I thought was that they could have used the space better. P noticed it too - he immediately said they could have added a small upstairs seating area (I think there's an office or storage room up in that block you see in the picture). Also, the bar was way too big, and is totally unnecessary. Let's face it, we're in Kuwait. Unless you're serving alcohol, why have a bar/counter that big when you're short on space? Remove it altogether, and just add tables.

It was five minutes before we got menus and another ten minutes before someone took our order (both times I had to call the attention of the waiter). Anyway, the burger selection was quite interesting and diverse, which is always a plus. But when it comes to burgers, unless it's Lindy's Red Lion in DC, I'm going for a regular old gourmet cheeseburger. When I asked what else came in the bun, the waiter told me ketchup and mayonnaise. So I asked him to add lettuce and chopped onions. So he said, "Caramelized onions." And I said, "No, regular onions, chopped." "Ah yes, OK." Then, as he was writing down my order, he mumbled out loud, "Add lettuce and tomato." I said, "No, no tomato. Lettuce, and c-h-o-p-p-e-d o-n-i-o-n-s." "Ah yes, OK, lettuce and tom-, uh, and chopped onion." Then he took down P's order, which was called "La Rosee" (don't ask why) and had mushrooms, caramelized onions, and swiss cheese. One plate of fries to share. We were told that our burgers would take 20 minutes, but that we would get our drinks and fries first. That's fine.

As we sat waiting for our food, we began our critique. P and I are both design freaks - we love and appreciate good design and unique styles, and so we notice everything. I mean everything, even things that most people wouldn't. And we always end up having the exact same comments. For example, the first thing we both said should go was the set of superfluous four panels up on the wall (in the picture above). In general, the interior design was quite nice - I liked certain bits of it. But the overall product was...well...a bit of a clusterfuck, to be honest. You had the whole copper industrial part, which I liked - industrial is always a good look (although it's been done better in Kuwait). Then you had the whole stained glass part, which was also nice, and actually meshed well with the copper. But then you had some walls (not the ones carrying on the copper industrial theme but like the one behind the four panels) that were really tacky. I'm not sure what that design technique is called, but it's where the paint is really textured and rough - but it wasn't done well at all. And it just didn't go with the rest of the place at all. It ruined it.

Then there's the other design aspect - their logo, branding, etc. First of all, their logo is not even worth talking about - I'm pretty sure the person who designed it has absolutely no background in design or anything remotely creative. Then, the colour scheme is totally off. On the logo on the sign outside, they use a bright red and yellow. These same colours are used on their takeaway boxes. However, their menus are maroon and more of a brownish-mustard yellow. Then their placemats are something different altogether - kind of a light brown (for red) and cream (for yellow). The menus themselves were done very cheaply - they were just very bland and felt like laminated paper...kind of like what you'd expect from share3 alma6a3em. The placemats were paper and the design was brown and cream stripes - they just didn't go with anything at all.

Also, and this is a big one, if you're going to put a paragraph of text in the menu (a sort of message from the owner, talking about the history of the hamburger and the reason Burger Hub was created and all that) then at least have someone edit it for you before going to print. I don't expect everyone to have perfect English skills - not at all - but before printing something like a menu for your own restaurant, just let someone who speaks fluent English look it over for you. It wouldn't take more than 10 minutes to edit. One example: "mince-meat" was spelled "mints meat". For a place that specializes in burgers, I found that hilarious. The whole menu was full of little grammatical, spelling, and typographical mistakes. Again, something you'd expect from share3 alma6a3em, but not from the type of place this is trying to be.

By that point, every little thing I found wrong just got to me. For example, they had a little specials menu on each table (by then we had moved to a regular table), which was typed out on red construction paper, laminated. Fine. But, if you're going to have a list of special burgers with special names, you have to at least provide the list of ingredients that comes on each! How the hell am I supposed to know what a "[insert stupid meaningless name here] burger" is? Then, I'm going to have to ask the waiter to tell me what's in each, and all that's going to do is slow down what is already extremely slow and inept service.

Speaking of inept service, guess what my burger came with? That's right - lettuce and tomato, no onions. At that point I decided not to say anything and just eat it. So I ate it. And here's the most important part of this review...the burger. To both me and P, the burger was less than average. I get more pleasure from a McDonald's double-cheeseburger than I did from this. First of all, the meat had too many offensive spices in it. Not the usual good mix of spices - ones that just threw the taste right off. And it just wasn't good quality meat. Then, the bread was...bad. Dry and bland. The overall thing itself just didn't have much taste (other than those damn spices). I asked for mustard hoping it would give it a kick, but even the mustard was bad. The fries were boring and not great. Oh, and we didn't get the fries first like we were told, but with our burgers, and we didn't get our drinks until about two minutes before that (and I was first given a Coke instead of the Diet Coke which I ordered).

Anyway, the final clincher was that the music was way too loud. The music was actually OK. I was just glad they weren't playing trashy R'n'B like most places play, nor did the place have a plasma screen showing J.Lo or Shakira in concert like other small places in Kuwait like to do (think Maki and Fusion). They were playing chillout house - mostly Buddha Bar stuff which I find very cliché and annoying under normal circumstances but which was a relief here, knowing what could have been thoroughly ruining my dining experience. But it was just way too loud for such a small place.

Now, I know most of you are probably thinking, "Damn, they just ripped that place to shreds." And I know that sounds like a mean and unfair thing to do to a small, local business that is trying something new. But let me say why we were so critical. First of all, I think what this guy has done is great (at least I think it's just the one guy whose name was on the menu). OK, so maybe it's kind of copying Burger Boutique, but at least he's investing his money and time and energy into opening a good quality local establishment, trying to break the franchise obsession Kuwaitis have. And he's done a good job - the food concept is great, the interior design is modern and cool, the name is nice, and the place isn't expensive. Also, anyone who knows me knows how much I love, admire, and support small Kuwaiti businesses. But, at the same time, because I so want to see these places succeed, I am more critical of them than I am of places I don't really care about.

This place has tons of potential. They were on the right track - but somewhere along the way they fell short of being great. And what disappoints me is that the areas in which I find Burger Hub to be lacking make me think that their lack of perfection was a result of laziness and perhaps an attempt to cut costs. For example, the bathroom is really nice - dark wood and dull metals - carrying on the industrial theme from the restaurant. But then your eyes fall on the toilet seat itself: bright white porcelain. It's a major eyesore in an otherwise gorgeous bathroom. Why? Why not continue the thought and spend a bit more effort trying to find a toilet seat that matches well? OK, maybe I'm nitpicking here, but I just don't see the logic in it, other than the fact that someone got lazy. Also, the whole branding and printing thing is a disaster (the logo, takeout boxes, menu, placemats). That must have been the result of cost-cutting. But there were definitely areas in which he could have cut some unnecessary costs (like those four ugly panels) and put that money into hiring a freelance designer to do the logo and print materials. The way I see it is, if you're gonna do something, do it as absolutely perfectly as you can. It might take an extra day or week or month, and might cost an extra buck, but if this is your baby, your private business, your brainchild, just do it!

As P and I left we acknowledged the fact that most of the things we found wrong with the place, most people would probably not even notice. We are both perfectionists and are both overly in tune with our senses - sight, sound, and taste, in this case. We appreciate little things that most people overlook, and so we notice the details. And when we see the potential for perfection being obstructed by carelessness, laziness, cheapness, or whatever the case may be, it drives us both up the wall. I'm sure that most people who go to the Burger Hub walk out completely satisfied, visually and gastronomically. And I think that's a good thing - because I'd like to see this place succeed. I would love to see it fix some of its shortcomings, but I think the person/people who created it should be given props for going their own way and taking a risk.

Oh, and they tried to charge me .250 fils for the onions I didn't get.

And, for the record, while most of the service was below average, there was one guy - who I think is the host - who was great. He was very friendly and capable and did a great job. I didn't get his name but he was the only Indian man on staff - at least tonight.

Retail Therapy

2006-08-20T01:38:00.000+03:00

I'm not a typical Kuwaiti "name brand" ("marka") type of girl, whatsoever. I have my own style when it comes to clothes and shoes, and it's part of what makes me Me. The most expensive items in my wardrobe are my 14 eyelet teal Doc Martens which cost me nearly £100 and which I absolutely love, and my pair of Seven jeans (which, let's face it, are worth every penny). Other than that, my wardrobe is more than happy being in the student-income-bracket. In London I shop in Covent Garden and Camden Town. In Kuwait I have only ever stepped foot in Villa Moda once, for a party back in the day.

I will admit, however, that I love to engage in a bit of retail therapy every now and then. In London I'm always broke so on the rare occasions that I can actually invest in a new item or two, it's a real treat and it can put me on a high for days. Like when I first bought my Docs above, or my maroon and yellow Converse, or my black Osiris skate shoes. (Funky footwear is my weakness.)

So anyway, having prefaced this post with that bit of information about myself, I would now like to share with you the two newest additions to my wardrobe, both of which I absolutely love, and both of which are just so unbelievably "me", I couldn't have designed them better myself.

First, this necklace was part of my birthday gift from my sister Raine.

I think this is just such a unique and funky piece. First of all, it looks exactly like the turntable I have in my flat in London, only mine is white. Second of all, it perfectly represents a passion that I share with P. And third, I just love vinyls and I think turntables are where it's at. The turntable arm on the necklace actually moves, so you can put it over the vinyl. I usually don't wear much yellow gold but this looks perfect the way it is. It's by Swatch, by the way. I've always loved Swatch.

Second, I bought this bag for myself the other day.

How amazing is this? It's a bag with a black and white picture (in fabric) of the soor (town wall) and one of the old gates of Kuwait on one side, and the old souq circa 1937 on the other. What better bag could a historian carry, I ask you? I got this from a little boutique called "Just Me" on the first floor of Galleria 2000 in Salmiya. The lady in the shop told me that the bag was designed by the owner (a young Kuwaiti woman) and that there was only one like it made. Again, I don't normally wear or carry much brown, but it doesn't really matter - it's gonna become my "everyday" bag in London. It's big enough for me to carry to university, and my PowerBook actually fits inside, funky teal fabric protective cover (made personally for me courtesy of "Edo Rex") and all. I absolutely love it. The price was a bit steep - more expensive than I was expecting it to be, and to be totally honest more than I have ever spent on a bag (all I'll say is, it was less than KD 60). But I decided to just get it. It's a totally unique find, nobody else in the world has this, and the concept is just purely me. And at the same time, I get to support a small Kuwaiti business, which I love doing because it really makes me proud to see young Kuwaitis thinking outside the box and doing something original.

While we're on the topic of acccessories, as an afterthought, I thought I'd share that I just got my ears pierced about two weeks ago. I had them pierced as a kid but they got infected so they closed. Then one day a couple of weeks ago P and I were walking around in Marina Mall and for some reason we decided to stop into Claire's to buy a pair of those magnetic stud earrings for fun so that we could both try them on to see how we'd each look (him with only one - and he looked very sexy, btw!). Then it dawned on me - why don't I try again? So the next day we went to the pharmacy in Jabriya where I'd had them pierced as a kid, and P held my hand as they re-pierced them over the old holes. I must admit, they're so cute! Raine also got me a pair of white gold studs for my birthday to replace the special pharmacy ones (which I had to wear for a week), and I now have to keep these in for about a month. Then, a whole new world of fun is gonna open up for me! Although I don't see myself as a dangly-earring type - I think I'm more of a studs kinda girl. It'll suit my short hair better.

How many five-year-olds?

2006-08-08T13:39:00.000+03:00

I know some of you may have already seen this before but I wanted to post about it here now because P and I were talking about it last night. A good friend and former colleague of mine showed me this thread on a forum last year, and I found it extremely fascinating and hilarious. It is a hypothetical question about a hypothetical scenario, and the thread has lasted for well over a year! The first post in the thread was made in January 2005, and the latest post was just two days ago...which means it's still active! That's how brilliant the question is. So let's discuss this here. (I would, however, like to make a disclaimer up front that I do not mean to offend anyone who might be reading this who might have children, and, in particular, a five-year-old. This is all done in jest, and in fact you might be able to offer us some more insight on the matter! However, if you get easily offended by things, please do not read any further.)

Source: 2+2 Forums

The question: How many five-year-olds could you take on at once?

The specifics:

- You are in an enclosed area, roughly the size of a basketball court. There are no foreign objects.
- You are not allowed to touch a wall.
- When you are knocked unconscious, you lose. When they are all knocked unconscious, they lose. Once a kid is knocked unconscious, that kid is "out."
- I (or someone else intent on seeing to it you fail) get to choose the kids from a pool that is twice the size of your magic number. The pool will be 50/50 in terms of gender and will have no discernable abnormalities in terms of demographics, other than they are all healthy Americans (or in this case, Kuwaitis, which could be frightening!).
- The kids receive one day of training from hand-to-hand combat experts who will train them specifically to team up to take down one adult. You will receive one hour of "counter-tactics" training.
- There is no protective padding for any combatant other than the standard-issue cup.
* The kids are motivated enough to not get scared, regardless of the bloodshed. Even the very last one will give it his/her best to take you down.

So P and I seriously discussed this last night. He instinctively first put his number at around 100, but then after thinking about it realistically and looking over the rules he estimated about 25-35. I'm not quite sure. Considering your average 5-year-old weighs about 40 lbs (well, if we're talking non-Kuwaiti at least), that could be dangerous! But then, as people in the forum said, chances are the kids will forget most of their combat training within a few hours. Also, it'll be hard to get them to really work together to bring you down. After all, they're only five years old and most of them probably have A.D.D. But then again, one swift coupe de boule à la Zidane could knock the wind out of you if the kid came towards you running - especially since its head would reach about to your gut. Ugh. Oh, but actually, to hit your gut you'd have to be facing the kid so you'd see it coming, and so you'd have time to stick your knee out to do some serious damage.

So, yeah, I'm not sure where I'd put my number. I think I have to see/test a five-year-old first before I can decide. Does anybody know how I can get my hands on one to try it out? Like P suggested, we could go around the different kindergartens in Kuwait (you know those ones they have in villas in residential neighbourhoods) and tell the parents we are conducting a sociological experiment and we'd pay them KD 500 to use their kid for the day. Then we could charge KD 1000 to each adult who wanted to try it out so that we could break even.

I think I could handle somewhere between 10 and 20 kids.

I love what one person in this forum suggested about knocking out one kid and then using him/her to knock out the other kids as a kind of sword; I envision holding the kid by the feet and spinning round and round in circles and using the head to knock out the rest. Hmmm. I think out of all the tactics, that's the one I'd go for. If I could do that successfully, then I'd go much higher than 20. Hell, then the sky's the limit!

OK I just did a google image search for "five year olds" and they're really not that big. Also, many of them were quite cute and it's starting to soften me and take the fun out of this, so don't really think about what this all means. Don't picture the kids as pretty, cute, charming children. Picture those really bratty, whiney, sweaty terrors we see running around in restaurants here while we're trying to enjoy a decent meal, and think about how many of those you'd want to take out.

27

2006-08-07T02:30:00.000+03:00

Happy birthday to me!

Lilacs and Buttercups

2006-08-05T00:40:00.000+03:00

I first fell in love with the song "Mushaboom" by Feist when I moved to London a year ago. It was one of the songs that I began my life in London to, and along with Belle and Sebastian's "I'm a Cuckoo" (an all time favourite), it's the one song that has remained on my "Streets of London" iPod playlist all year long (which I listen to daily when I'm on the move).

Then last month when we were in Lebanon I discovered that Feist recently released a remix album called "Open Season", with different remixes of several of her best tracks. There were four new versions of "Mushaboom" on the album, the best one being, by far, the remix done by The Postal Service (who, by the way, if you don't know them, are mind-blowingly brilliant). The remix is even better than the original track, which was already a practically perfect, albeit beautifully simple, song. The Postal Service remix has taken things to a whole new level, and the track is by far one of the best pieces of musical perfection I have come across in a very long time (aside from the Postal Service's own stuff, of course).

It's just such a nice, simple, beautiful song. It reminds you that life is not always supposed to be so complicated, so frustrating, and so ugly. The original version is quite upbeat and cheerful. It makes you want to run through fields of green like a wonderful old cliché, or dance in circles on your rooftop at dawn with your arms outstretched as you give your city a great big good morning hug (which was one of the best moments of my life back in DC). In the Postal Service remix, the original tempo of the track is actually slowed down a bit, making it more mellow. It's a tad bit more melancholic, but that just makes it even better because now it showers you with such a bitter-sweet feeling that you don't quite know what to do with yourself. And the fact that it will now always remind me of our time in Lebanon right before this hideous war started makes it all the more bitter-sweet for me.

I guess the main thing that makes me never tire of this song, both the original and the remix, is the lyrics. They just perfectly describe the way I think about life - about my future, and my life with P. The beautiful shining light at the end of the tunnel that we still have yet to reach the end of. This song is perfectly us...this is me and P laying in the grass with our heads together, fantasizing about all the little details of our upcoming life together, as we so regularly do.

Go ahead and listen along to "Mushaboom (The Postal Service Remix)" by Feist.

Helping the kids out of their coats
But wait the babies haven't been born
Unpacking the bags and setting up
And planting lilacs and buttercups

But in the meantime I've got it hard
Second floor living without a yard
It may be years until the day
My dreams will match up with my pay

Old dirt road (mushaboom mushaboom)
Knee deep snow (mushaboom mushaboom)
Watching the fire as we grow (mushaboom mushaboom)
Old

I got a man to stick it out
And make a home from a rented house
And we'll collect the moments one by one
I guess that's how the future's done

How many acres how much light
Tucked in the woods and out of sight
Talk to the neighbours and tip my cap
On a little road barely on the map

Old dirt road (mushaboom mushaboom)
Knee deep snow (mushaboom mushaboom)
Watching the fire as we grow (mushaboom mushaboom)
Old

Old dirt road (mushaboom mushaboom)
Rambling rose (mushaboom mushaboom)
Watching the fire as we grow
Well I'm sold...

Stay Gold

2006-07-30T12:34:00.000+03:00

Remember that wonderfully life-altering book from your early adolescence, The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton? It was made into a film in the eighties, with a stellar cast. Anyway, there is a scene in the book (and movie) when Ponyboy and Johnny are in hiding in the church and are watching the sunrise, and Pony recites that Robert Frost poem "Nothing Gold Can Stay":

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

When you're 13, you immediately get it. The poem, and Pony's explanation of it, speak volumes. You are at that turning point in your life when you're just beginning the process of letting go of your innocence, and you know it, and you're so excited about it. But at the same time, you're scared, and a tiny bit sad to say good-bye to your childhood, although you'd never admit it.

I woke up this morning reciting this poem in my head. I am now more than double the age I was when I first read it. My golden innocence is no longer something I feel slipping away from me - it's been gone for a long time. So why was I thinking about it? I guess because lately I've realized that, no matter how much it pains me to know this or admit it, life is not, nor can it be, perfect. I try so hard with everything I do in life, big and small, significant and trivial, to make life absolutely picture perfect, and it hardly ever turns out that way. It's probably (or rather, obviously) because there are so many things that have happened to me, and continue to happen to me, in life that are totally out of my control, that I try as hard as possible to keep total control over everything else. I invest so much effort and energy into wanting, trying, to make everything perfect. But life isn't perfect. And even things that are perfect, can never last that way forever. Eventually, life will catch up to them and bring them back down to reality. Because, "nothing gold can stay."

This over obsessive perfectionism is something I have developed as an adult, in recent years, and while I realize that it can be destructive, there is little I can do to change it. Before, if I was a perfectionist, it was mainly something I used positively - in my academic work, for example, through college. Or in my professional work after college. But now, it's different. Now I apply it to everything, big and small, and it's mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausting.

And I guess the pain of realizing now, in my late twenties, that no matter how hard you try, life cannot be totally controlled, nor be totally perfect, is similar to the pain you feel in your adolescence. That combination of emotions when you first realize that your life is something that happens to you as much as it is something that you lead. When you're a teenager and you first realize that life can be unfair, you feel angry, bitter, depressed - you brood and overdramatize, you lock yourself in your room and listen to music and take your anger out in your journal. When you're in your late twenties and you realize once again just how unfair, and uncontrollable, life can be, all it does is make you sad.

What makes it all easier, and more bearable, is having someone you love, and who loves you unconditionally, by your side. Someone to remind you that even if life isn't perfect, and doesn't always turn out as planned, you will always be OK because you have found perfection in, with, and between each other.

YO! Sushi = NO! Sushi

2006-07-23T00:33:00.000+03:00

So Marina Mall has recently opened what I like to call the London corner - Yo! Sushi, Gourmet Burger Kitchen, Pizzeria Cucina (which is apparently a home-grown Gulf restaurant but that gets its ingredients from a pizzeria in Knightsbridge - which I've been told is the famous pizzeria in Harrod's), and Morelli's Gelato. P and I tried out Gourmet Burger the other day (I haven't been to the one in London yet since I have one of the best burger places in town around the corner from my flat so there's no need to explore any further). It was good, but still not quite as good as Burger Boutique (to compare it with Kuwait's other gourmet burger place). But I like nice burger places that don't feel like you're eating fast food so when it comes to having a burger craving, it's a nice addition to our choices of places to eat in Kuwait. (But I gotta add, when it comes to burgers, Johnny Rockets still does it for me!)

Anyway, tonight we wanted to have ice cream from Morelli's so we decided to try out Yo! Sushi, have a light meal, and then save room for dessert. Didn't quite turn out as planned. First of all, I have only been to Yo! Sushi in London once, and that was a few years ago. Why go there when you can go to Itsu, which is a million times better? But anyway, I decided to give the one here the benefit of the doubt. Boy was that a mistake.

The first annoying thing was that they had all these different types of cold drinks on their menu, but none was actually available. All that was available was soft drinks and three types of fruit juices (very plain) - none of the nice cold fusion teas, nor the flavoured San Pellegrino drinks, that were listed on the menu were available to order.

The next annoying thing was that the sushi dishes going by on the conveyor were not labeled. Maybe I'm too used to Itsu, but I would think that even Yo! Sushi in London labels the dishes, no? So it was up to us to guess what we were picking up.

And it's not like you could really tell what was inside a given roll, seeing as 97% of the roll was just rice. That was the major problem we had with the place. Each roll was quite big, but predominantly consisted of rice, with a tiny bit of actual ingredients - fish or veg - in the middle. So no matter what you ate, you couldn't really taste it because all that you were aware of was the excess of rice. We started with two dishes, and were immediately unsatisfied. We were actually fighting over who was not going to eat the last roll. We sat and waited for something appetizing to come by, but nothing did. It was all rice, rice, rice, and tiny bits of unidentifiable "food" embedded deep in the middle. Finally we just looked at each other, conceded defeat, and decided to get the check and relocate someplace else.

And here's the best part. Two unsatisfying dishes - one with 4 small pieces of salmon sashimi and one with 3 rolls of rice with I-don't-know-what - came out to KD 4! Oh...including the Diet Coke and 7-Up. It's a good thing we decided to stop there.

The only good part of the ten minute experience was our waiter. He was very nice, and was quite disappointed that we were leaving so soon. He asked if there was something wrong or if we were unsatisfied with something, and under normal circumstances I would take that as an invitation to begin my ten minute critique. But he was just so nice and sincerely perturbed by our sudden desire to leave that I just mumbled something about having to leave to meet people. But then I decided to "make a suggestion" - about the huge amount of rice in each roll, and how they really weren't giving their customers a fair value-for-money deal. He listened very carefully and said he would tell the chef.

Anyway, we were still in the mood for sushi but didn't want to go too far (i.e. we didn't feel like driving straight home to Edo as you would expect). So we decided to go to Wasabi in that new area in Bide3 with all the restuarants. This was my first time going to Wasabi and I must say, it wasn't bad at all. Still not quite as good as Edo, but better than any of the other (non-Edo) sushi places in Kuwait. The atmosphere was nice, décor was pleasing, food was good, and the best part is that the old manager of Edo who is now the manager of Wasabi was there. Hadn't seen him in a couple of years!

Here are some pictures from Yo! Sushi of some of the dishes that passed us by. Notice the amount of rice, the small amount of actual filler, and then check out the price.

KD 0.800

KD 1.400

KD 1.800

Lebanon Evacuation

2006-07-19T02:11:00.000+03:00

Here are some pictures and short videos from our evacuation out of Lebanon. The quality isn't great because they were taken with my Sony Ericsson K700i. I haven't uploaded P's pictures and videos yet but I will tomorrow in case you're interested.

Home, safe and sound

2006-07-17T02:23:00.000+03:00

On Friday morning, P and I began our journey to get out of Lebanon, and we arrived back to Kuwait last night (i.e. Sunday night). First off, big thank you to Jazz Central for picking us up from the airport!

My god, what an exhausting, surreal, and stressful ordeal. I'll write out the highlights of our story here for those of you who are interested. (This will probably be a long post so no need to read if you're not interested - I just figure this is easier than repeating the story over and over.)

Initially, when the problems began on Wednesday, we had decided to stay in Lebanon and ride it out - we really didn't expect things to escalate much. Our flight was already booked for Sunday (yesterday), and so we assumed the airport would reopen by then. And if not, we were willing to stay on a few extra days until things settled down. By Friday, however, things had gotten much worse and we had heard that the Kuwaiti Embassy was organizing buses from the Safir Hotel in Bhamdoun to go across the Syrian border. We checked on Jazeera's website and they said all their flights had been re-routed through Damascus. So we packed our luggage and headed up to Bhamdoun.

C.H.A.O.S. The hotel was totally insane. There was absolutely no sense of order in the lobby, you had no idea where to go or what to do, there was only like four people from the embassy there, and most of them either didn't know what was going on, or were being really blasé and rude. The scene we saw at that hotel made me thoroughly ashamed to be a Kuwaiti. It's not like people were panicking because they were scared or whatever. No, they were just being pushy and unorganized and hysterical. We figured out that the "procedure" was to register our names down on a "list" with our phone numbers, and once they had buses available for us they would call us to assign us a specific bus number. But first priority went to families with children and elderly. Fair enough. Was there any chance we'd get out today? Not likely. And before you ask, no, they did not offer to put us up for the night. We had to fork out $250 to have a roof over our head. Next thing we had to do was get rid of our car rental. At first the company wasn't willing to come up to Bhamdoun to get it: "The agreement was that since you collected the car from the airport, you should return it at the airport." "WHAT AIRPORT?!" "Oh, yeah. OK, we're on our way." So then we sat and waited for our phone call. A couple of hours later, P went back to the lobby to check on things, and now the official from the embassy who was in charge of putting people on the buses told him that to get on a bus all we had to go was get our luggage and go claim a seat on one. Since when? So we got our luggage and went to find the guy again and he said that there were some more buses on the way for that night, but that there were also better buses coming for the following morning. By that point it was about 6pm. He said we could leave that night, but he advised we wait and leave in the morning. It would be safer and more comfortable that way, plus we’d have a better chance of finding a flight out. I asked why we had been told to wait for a phone call and he basically laughed (i.e. at us), and said their "system" fell apart because all the people were fighting to get on buses (apparently we were the only ones following orders and patiently/naively waiting for a phone call). Weighing all the options, we decided to take a bus the following morning. He told us to be down there at 7am.

We went down at 5am to be safe. The lobby was already packed and chaotic again. People were screaming and fighting and pushing and crowding around the table where we apparently had to "register" our names again to get on a bus (yesterday’s list was gone with the wind). People would cram up to the table (no lines, no order) and would shove like 20 passports in the guy's face. Nobody would help us with only two. Finally, I saw the guy who we had spoken to the night before and he managed to help us and got our names down. It was pure insanity. Once they had a few lists full of 50 names each (one list per bus), they started taking people outside to the buses, which was like a race. They would read out a list of names, get everyone on that list together, and then say "OK, you're on bus 4" and then everyone would RUN, with all their hundreds of pieces of luggage, to the bus. Then it turned into the fight to get your suitcases into the luggage compartment. Each family had like 15 suitcases with them. I have no idea how all the luggage made it across.

Finally, we got on a bus at 7 am, with our two suitcases safely tucked away. Then began our six-hour journey across the border. The drive to the Lebanese border took about 2 1/2 hours or so. But then we spent more than an hour at the border itself. Then about another 45 minutes to an hour at the Syrian border. The route itself was quite nerve wracking. We took the Zahle route, through the Bekaa valley. Some of the roads we took I honestly think can only be described as hiking trails. But we made it, and our bus driver took care of all logistics on the borders. Less than half an hour after we crossed the border, the exact route we had been on was bombed. That happened the day before too - just after arriving in Bhamdoun we heard that one of the bridges near Hazmieh, which we had passed through to drive up to Bhamdoun, had been hit.

Once we got to Damascus airport, the "embassy officials" who we were told would meet us on the other end were nowhere in sight. Supposedly, every person who was put on a bus from Bhamdoun was confirmed on one of the flights out to Kuwait that day. BULLSHIT. It was each man for himself at the airport, which was also in total chaos. We headed straight over to the Jazeera counter, which was, again, pure madness. They told us that only if we were confirmed on a Jazeera flight for that day could we get out (we were confirmed for the following day). So we went up to the Kuwait Airways office where we heard they were taking down people's names to get onto one of the night flights. Again, chaos – no lines, and lots of pushing and shoving. Turned out the waiting list was really long for Kuwait Airways and the guy said that even if we put our names down there would be a very slim chance we'd get out that day. So we decided to forget it, since we were confirmed on Jazeera anyway for the next day.

Next came finding a place for the night. All hotels in Damascus and environs were fully booked. Not one single room. Luckily, some family friends (my sister's in-laws) were arriving into Damascus from Beirut that same afternoon, and they knew an older couple who had agreed to put them and us up for the night – in their family “mazra3a” (farm). It felt strange going over to someone's house who we had never met before to spend the night, but we had no choice. So we got into a cab. After getting pulled over by a cop because the taxi had a curtain on his back windshield, getting lost in the area because the taxi didn’t know where the place was, and then fighting with him because he tried to charge us a double-fare because he got a ticket and got lost, we finally got to the couple’s apartment in Damascus.

By then the other family had arrived as well. We all had some dinner, and then the couple drove us out to their mazra3a. We were expecting a farm of some sort - not necessarily animals and all, but at least some agriculture. Turns out, the word "mazra3a" is just a loosely used term to describe all the houses and estates in that specific area. In fact, the place we were going to was their weekend getaway home - kind of like a chalet. But boy was it not what we were expecting. When we drove onto the grounds, we were shocked. It was like we had arrived at the von Trapp family home, except without the children and merriment. It was enormous! It was like a five-star luxury resort - complete with main villa (huge), guest villa (bigger than my house in Kuwait), gardens, barbeque patios, more gardens, nature paths, swimming pool, jacuzzi, fountains, etc. Only problem was, 98% of it was totally under renovation. The only place that was inhabitable was the top floor of the guesthouse, which had two bedrooms, one bathroom, a living room and a kitchen. That was where we would be crashing for the night: us, and our friends - a family of five. OK, that was do-able. But, then it turned out that the electricity wasn't working. So we had to wait outside for well over an hour until the electrician arrived from Damascus proper and got to work on restoring it. By the time the lights finally came back on, it was past 10pm. I could hardly keep my eyes open.

Skip ahead to the next day. Our flight was for 9pm that night, but even though the Jazeera guy we spoke to said to come to the airport at 7pm, we decided to be there by around 4pm to be safe, especially since we had fought with the people in their main office earlier that afternoon because we couldn’t figure out if we were confirmed or not. When we got to the Jazeera counter the guy said they were only checking in people confirmed on the 6:45 flight, and if we wanted to try to get on that flight rather than the 9pm one, we could come back to the counter at 6pm to try. We decided to get something to eat and just sat on our luggage near the front of the counter waiting. By 6pm we knew for a fact that we weren't getting on that flight. So we stood near the front ready to be the first when they opened the counter at around 7pm to start checking people in for the 9pm flight. Suddenly, at about 6:40, I just happened to go up to the counter to ask someone something when I heard them saying that they had to move the check-in for the 9pm flight. Where to? Terminal 2. Why? Because Damascus airport wasn't willing to accommodate the Jazeera replacement flight from Beirut in that terminal. So what do we do? Follow me.

And this had to be the most insane, and disturbingly hilarious, part of the night. Everyone around the counter area started to hear that we were moving to Terminal 2, and that we had to follow the guy, who had started walking towards the door. So suddenly there was a massive mob of people and trolleys and luggage rushing behind him. But, lo and behold, there is no actual EXIT from the check-in area. No, to get out, we had to go against the tide of people trying to ENTER through the security area (don't even ask about fire or emergency exits - there were none - if there was a fire, everyone would burn to a crisp). We were still following the Jazeera guy - nearly 100 people with their trolleys, angry and confused and panicked. The guy was arguing with the security people who didn't want to let us all out through any of the three doorways that people were entering from. He had to fight to get them to agree, and then we had to push the people who were trying to get in aside so that we could get out. I'm serious here - literal shoving - because we didn't know where to go and we didn't want to lose the guy, who was walking in a hurry ahead of us. So we just pushed and shoved our way out. Then we ran across the airport after him. Then we exited the airport, and thus began the race (literally) to the other terminal building. People were literally running, pulling suitcases, pushing trolleys. I can't describe to you how strange and yet hilarious it all looked. P and I got to the front of the mob. All you could think to do was run - why we were running, I'm still not sure. But damn it, we wanted to be at the front of the insanity we knew was about to unfold in the terminal. And we were fed up after two days of chaos and bullshit. So we ran. We ran to restore our sanity and peace of mind. In fact, we ran so fast, we outran the Jazeera guy. When we entered the terminal building (and I'm using that term generously - it was more like a shack) along with a handful of other fast runners (all non-Kuwaiti other than myself), the security people got flustered and a bit frightened by this mad mob of people suddenly rushing in. They said that the only flight leaving from there was for Cairo and tried to stop us from entering, and we said that we were going through, and if they had a problem with it they could take it up with the Jazeera guy, who had just entered. We were all tired, frustrated, and fed up - mob mentality had totally taken over, and we descended upon that security check like a swarm of angry bees, taking no shit from no one. By that point P and I had realized that there was no point in trying to act civilized – in two days that had literally gotten us nowhere. Anyway, our Jazeera hero fought with the terminal people until they gave him two counters to check us in. We were second in line behind another couple. By then the rest of the passengers started coming in, and security had managed to get back on their guard, and tried to actually restore order at the entrance. Anyway, within ten minutes we were checked in. Then passport control. Then we had to sit around and wait until the "gate" opened. Once in there, we found our first chairs of the day to actually sit on. We were in a room with two windows and two flimsy looking glass doors leading out onto the tarmac. We sat around there for about an hour, waiting, knowing that we would have to take a bus back to Terminal 1 where our plane still was. Finally, the Jazeera man of the hour arrived, and we heard him speaking on his mobile asking if the plane was ready and if he could send the first busload of people over. When he got his confirmation, he had to open the window and yell out to someone on the tarmac to come unlock the door for us. MASKHARA!! I'm telling you, it was like nothing I've ever seen - the whole airport experience. AY SHAY!

Once on the plane, we relaxed a bit. But P and I didn't feel as happy as everyone else on the flight seemed. Yes, we were glad that we were able to get out safely, and that we were almost home. We were glad that our families and friends weren't worrying anymore. But the truth is, there wasn't much to feel happy about. We had to escape because Lebanon is under attack, and so all we could, and do, feel is angry and sad. It breaks my heart to see Lebanon sucked into this kind of a mess all over again. It's unfair, and unnecessary. In all honesty, neither of us really wanted to leave. If it had been up to us (i.e. if our primary concern was not easing the minds of our families and friends), we would have gone up into the mountains and stayed with some friends, at least until the airport opened. Doing the whole border crossing thing - I don't know, we didn't like it. Not because we were scared or anything like that - symbolically, we didn't like it.

I can't wait to go back for New Year's to go skiing. (Begin big sister panic session...NOW!)

I'll add pictures tomorrow.

Funding

2006-07-12T18:11:00.000+03:00

I opened my hotmail today (which I barely check because nobody ever really Emails me there anymore) and I had two Emails from my university scholarship office. For some reason the admissions office still uses my hotmail address, which I had on my original application for the MA programme, even though I now have a university Email address with them (which I used on my PhD application). Anyway, I wasn't expecting to see any real mail in there, but when I saw two Emails back to back, each with the name of one of the two scholarships I applied for to fund my PhD in the subject fields, my heart dropped to my feet. I only applied to two because as an international PhD student I was only eligible for two. One is a research scholarship offered by my university to students across all disciplines, and from what I've heard there are only about six of these available. The other is the Overseas Research Students Awards Scheme, which is an award from the British Government but administered through the university (and students are chosen directly by the university), and there is also a very small number of these awards available at my university - again only around six or so. Students can only get one award or the other - not both.

Anyway, I opened the Email with the university research award in the subject with my heart pounding. Unfortunately, "...I am sorry to inform you..." Oh well. I knew that with such a limited number of scholarships available, it was a long shot. I went back to my inbox and without any expectations I opened the ORSAS Email, seriously preparing myself for another rejection. But this time, my eyes fell on the words "...I am pleased to inform you..." It took my brain a few seconds to register what I was reading. Then it hit me.

I got it!! I got funding for my PhD! The first thing I did, after squealing it out to P who was sitting next to me watching TV, was Email my supervisor to share the good news with her. I wasn't expecting to find out by Email - I thought I would have to wait till my friend in London who has the key to my flat checks my mail for me at the end of the month. So this was a wonderfully unexpected surprise, and P is taking me out to dinner tonight to celebrate. Boy do I feel a load off.

VIVE LA FRANCE!!

2006-06-28T01:25:00.000+03:00

Bravo to Frank Ribery and Patrick Vieira...

...but talk about bringing it home!!

Zizo...what a man.

1 year down...

2006-06-25T19:21:00.000+03:00

"I’ve been doing what I’m told, I’ve been busy growing old
And the days are getting cold but that’s alright with me
Sunlight sends you on your way
And those restless thoughts that cling to yesterday
Never be afraid of change
I’m calling on the phone, I hate to leave you on your own
But I’m coming home today
Yes I’m coming home today..."
(Bic Runga)

Guess what!?!

2006-06-25T18:45:00.000+03:00

My neighbours have been evicted! At least, I'm about 98% sure they have been. A couple of weeks ago the guy who owns the shop downstairs told me that the landlord told him they were getting rid of them, but he wasn't sure if it was official or not. Then a couple of days later I saw two large vans parked outside and a set of Chinese parents (I think of the main guy I always fight with), and they were loading stuff from the flat into the car. And all that day I could hear bumps and bangs upstairs like furniture moving and all. And since that day, it's been quiet. Once in a while I'll hear a little something but I'm not positive it's coming from upstairs. They have a water bill down with the mail that hasn't moved in about three days so that might mean they're gone. HALLELUJAH!

The guy from the shop is thinking about moving in up there, which would be cool because we get along quite well and he's a very nice and decent guy. Finally, we'll have a decent building!

I HATE BIRDS!!

2006-06-24T00:44:00.000+03:00

A FUCKING PIGEON SHIT ON MY HEAD!!

So there I was, on my way to HMV to buy some vinyls for my P. I stopped at a cashpoint on my way and was just about to pull my money out when I suddenly felt three thumps on the top of my head. I brushed the air around my head thinking it was a bug or something and turned to the people standing behind me in the queue (about four) and said, "What was that?!" They were all just looking at me with these vacant looks on their face - that typical Londoner impersonal expression that makes me want to smack people left, right, and centre. Then I touched the top of my head, and lo and behond, it was wet! I looked at my hand and it was covered in thick liquidy green and brown diarrhea! I was like "Shit!" and looked at the people behind me and they all still had those damn stoic looks on their faces. Zero reaction! If that was you, and someone standing right in front of you suddenly had a handful of bird poo fall on their head, wouldn't you react? At least laugh!! If it was me, I would have been like "holy shit a bird just shit on you!" and then offer some sort of empathy, and, of course, laugh a bit! But no. Bloody Londoners. Don't react to shit. Literally.

Anyway, as for me, with lots of cursing and close to tears, with my hands covered in shit, I managed to get my money out, put my wallet away, and head to the nearest McDonald's. I grabbed some napkins on my way down to the toilet and I rubbed my head and the napkin was totally covered in green shit! Oh, and by now, as the heavy wet shit was settling in, it felt nice and warm on my scalp. Ready to vomit yet?

So I went down to the toilet, and my luck the sinks were in a mixed area for men and women. And to top it all off, it had those annoying, as Seinfeld calls them "Alcatraz style" faucets - where they don't actually let you control the water flow. You have to touch this little circle on the wall and water spurts out for about 10 seconds. I was oblivious to everyone in the room and got started on my mission. First washed my hands like five times. Then I stuck my head over the faucet and essentially took a shower over the sink. The shit came pouring off and into the sink - there was sooooooo much!! I don't even know if people noticed or were wondering what I was doing. I used soap and just kept rubbing it clean. I have short hair, by the way, which is a blessing because it makes it easy to wash in a sink. But still - it was certainly caked in there. Once I got it out of my hair I turned around and found a bit on the back of my shirt. Fucking hell. Oh, and the McDonald's toilets had no napkins, so I actually had to get the piece off my back (which was hardening and keeping it's clean rounded shape) with my fingers!! Then washed my shirt and my hands another ten times. Suffice it to say, by then I was soaking wet. And I still had my headphone wires around my neck!

Then of course, the hand dryers were barely working. I kept holding my hands under and they wouldn't turn on. So finally I was like, fuck it! I went out into the main McDonald's dining area soaking wet, with water dripping down my head and neck and back, and got a huge pile of napkins and went back into the bathroom to dry off.

And mind you, not one person paid me any mind. Nobody even looked. I guess that's a good thing, but it says a lot about how Londoners just don't give a shit about anyone around them.

Of course I went straight home to shower and had to forego HMV. I had to pass by the same bank on my way home and I looked up on the ledge above the cashpoint where the bird had aimed from and there were like 5 pigeons up there and I swear to god, as I passed, one of them was looking at me and chuckling to himself. I SWEAR!!

I used about half a new bottle of shampoo and nearly a full bar of soap to get myself clean. What a traumatic day.

Is this enough evidence to show the world that me and birds just do NOT get along? I've had so many strange encounters with pigeons. I have had about three actually bump into my head while walking down the street (once in Paris, once in Prague, and once in Venice). Meanwhile I don't treat them with much respect either. P calls me a bird smasher. I have run over so many with my car (not intentionally - it's just that the birds in Surra are bloody retarded). One actually commit harakiri by smashing itself against my winshield (also a Surra bird). But so you see, the feeling is mutual.

Only positive thing about the Avian Flu - the notion that one day there might not be any more birds in this world. Honestly, what purpose do birds serve on Earth (and I don't count penguins in there of course because they don't fly)? And don't give me the whole "well we eat poultry so they do serve a purpose" shit because I just can't believe that these creatures that cause us so much trauma were created just for the sake of becoming a McNugget.

I was told by a friend tonight that a bird shitting on your head is meant to be good luck. Didn't feel much like good luck to me - until, of course, France won and made it into the knock-out stage! So all you French supporters have me and my shit caked head to thank for that one.

Winding down

2006-06-20T02:20:00.000+03:00

Wow...I can't believe I have less than a week left in London and then I'm out of here until September. It's all gone by so fast. And I'll admit, it's getting quite overwhelming. Every single minute between 9:30am and 5pm is precious time I have to spend in the archives before I leave. I'll get it done, but my brain is knackered! But the good thing is it's forcing me to be really disciplined and to really throw myself into my dissertation. I'm almost ready to start writing a first section. Considering most of the people in my programme have barely even started their research yet, this race against the clock is actually working out well for me. I'm having lunch with my supervisor tomorrow to discuss my latest ideas that have developed as my research has been progressing, and if I get her green light then I'll be well on my way.

It feels strange though. That whole "this is the end" feeling is starting to really hit me. Not so much with regard to my work and all, but just this year. Saying good-bye to people - some of whom I'll be seeing again in September but none of whom (from the ones I'm closest to) will be continuing on to the PhD right away. Also, from here on out it's just me and my own research. We'll still have seminars next year - but as far as the actual work that I'm doing goes, it's my own. Nobody else to really go through it with the way you do with actual coursework.

But now that I've begun my own research, I am at my most content. This is the part I really love. A group of us in the history department (mainly those of us who are going on to the PhD right away) created our own voluntary seminar group after exams to share and discuss our dissertation progress together. Each week two people present their topic/research and answer questions and get feedback from the group - one hour per person. This is obviously what we'll be doing next year once we start the PhD programme, but apparently this is the first year that MA students have decided to do this voluntarily for the MA dissertation as well - the history department is quite impressed and is now considering doing this every year. I presented last Friday and received extremely positive feedback, which was great. At this relatively early pre-writing stage, talking things out (even with people who are writing in totally different areas) really helps all the ideas coalesce in your head.

So anyway, enough rambling. I'm so excited to be coming home. I miss everyone like mad, and I'm ready for some Kuwaiti luxury!

Bar Italia

2006-06-18T02:46:00.000+03:00

Watched tonight's Italy game with a bunch of friends at Bar Italia, which had a (small) outdoor screen so you could stand on the street and watch. There I was in my blue Italia t-shirt all geared up and raring to go, surrounded by hundreds of Italians and Italo-philes like myself. But what a disappointing game. It was exciting with all the red cards and all, but overall very disappointing for Italia. Italy's first goal was great - the crowd went wild and the adrenaline was soaring. But it all went downhill from there. But Del Peiro received a very warm reception indeed when he came on - not least from myself!

Funny thing - I was chatting in English with an Italian girl in the crowd and she suddenly stopped and said, "But wait, you're American!" because of my accent, and I quickly said, "No, I'm NOT!" and continued the conversation in Italian. All I needed was for the crowd to think I was American! But I guess my t-shirt was enough for me to redeem myself. Well, that and the fact that I yelled and cursed at the screen in Italian along with the rest of them.

Anyway, we better kick the Czech Republic's ass on Thursday.

P.S. How do you like the Bar Italia banner flanked by the Cross of St. George? :)

Back in the archives

2006-06-14T21:29:00.000+03:00

My life consists of two main things these days: the British Library, and the World Cup. I spend the entire morning and early afternoon in the archives, going through the India Office records at the British Library for hours, researching for my dissertation. Then just before 5pm (when the reading room closes) I rush home just in time as my friends start arriving to watch the World Cup.

I absolutely love sitting there for hours in the British Library. There are quite a few files on my topic for me to go through, and the more relevant files (usually of around 150-200 pages of documents each) can take me up to three days to go through really thoroughly, carefully reading and taking notes. I have about 15 more files to go through, but I've just finished the most important ones. Luckily my topic for my MA is narrow enough by year range that I don't have to go through hundreds of files - just about 30 or so! And that's not counting the other primary/archival sources I'll be perusing next week at Oxford and the Public Records Office up in Kew! Being a historian is a hell of a lot of work.

But it really is a labour of love. I love the routine that my day has fallen into now because of this. I wake up in the morning, shower, change, and walk over to the library up in Euston. Dump my bag in a locker (because you're only allowed to take transparent plastic bags that they provide into the reading rooms), and go up to the reading room. What's great is that practically everyone in there I see on a daily basis. We're all the same people, day in and day out. It makes the atmosphere very comfortable and familiar, in a way. A couple of people I know personally from my university, but the others have become familiar faces from our shared daily experience in the archives. You acknowledge each other's presence specifically by not acknowledging each other at all - if that makes sense. We all know that we all recognize each other, but nobody really says hello or anything. But you sense it, in a way. You start to become familiar with other people's routines - who is always there early, who goes for a lunch break when, who usually leaves at what time, etc. Some days when I go in a bit late, I walk to my seat in shame. And once when I wanted to get home to watch the 2pm game I ducked out quietly so people wouldn't notice me leaving to watch the football, because who leaves the archives to watch the football?

Funny thing that happened to me the other day. I went up to the counter to get a couple of files I have on reserve and the guy asked me for my last name so I told him, and he looked through the box with all the little name slips and said, "Ah yes, here you are, So-and-so, J" (as in my last name, and first initial J). And I said, "No, I'm So-and-so, X" and he looked surprised and went back into the box and said, "Oh, here you are!" So there were actually two of us in there with my same last name! I immediately looked around the room but nobody else in there looked Arab, but you never know. Now I'm really curious as to who that other person in there is...

FORZA AZZURRI!!!

2006-06-13T01:50:00.000+03:00

This is what it's all about. The World Cup. This is how I would like life to be all the time.

My flat has become the official World Cup den. I started with a World Cup kick-off party on Friday, and it's the regular spot everyday. Today was insane. How great was that Italia/Ghana game? I could barely handle it. Italia is my team - despite the disappointments of the 1994, 1998, and 2002 World Cups, I stand by my boys. Today I had about ten people over, and only two of us were supporting Italy. OK, I usually always go for the underdog team too, but not today. While I'm happy that Ghana has made it to the World Cup for the first time, I'm not going to turn my back on Italia.

This was the first really good, high spirited game I've experienced thus far in this World Cup. This game really meant something to me. After four years of waiting for this energy again, coupled by the intense indoor heat in London without air conditioning, the tenseness of the first half of the game was almost too much for me to handle. But after the first goal I knew we had it. And it was a kick ass goal, too - I must say. And that second goal, I just lost it there. It's been a while since we've seen a goal like that - so easy and and calm. What a game. But I must give Ghana props - while their strikers were well off the mark every single time, they did a good job midfield throughout the game.

And just to make things all the nicer for me, just before the second goal they brought out Alessandro Del Piero. Del Piero is my man. I have loved him for years (and he's nice on the eyes too). That was just the icing on the cake for me.

After the game we walked down the street to Frith Street in Soho - a.k.a. Little Italy. Hung out around Bar Italia eating gelati and I was just in heaven, surrounded by azzurri shirts and happy Italians. For a while I felt like I was out of London and back in Italy - the country in which I have spent the last two World Cups. I hate not being there now. But London is fine because you find fellow supporters no matter what team you're with. I didn't know Bar Italia had a TV showing the games so that's where we'll be on Saturday night - on Frith Street, watching the game against USA. Gotta surround myself with my fellow Italians and Italo-philes, wearing my Del Piero shirt and cursing out the refs in Italian.

FORZA ITALIA!!

The Nineties in Kuwait

2006-06-10T20:36:00.000+03:00

A few days ago I went over to a friend’s place in the evening to cook dinner and hang out. As we ate we were listening to his iTunes playlist of old school early- to mid-nineties alternative rock and it brought back so many memories, for both of us. So after dinner he brought out a big box of pictures he had from his high school and college days, and we sat for a couple of hours going through them. What struck me is how similar his high school experiences in Dublin were to my own in Kuwait. And I realized that in many ways, high school kids everywhere to a certain extent go through the same phases, no matter where they are in the world – well at least it’s true if you went to an international school in Kuwait. But I feel like high school kids now are so different from what we were like in the mid-nineties. I’ve been back to the A.S.K. campus recently and the high school girls are all wearing tight blue pants and trendy white tops, and are wearing more make-up than me and most of my friends wear in our mid-twenties! It’s such a shame.

Maybe it’s a generational thing, or maybe it was the nineties – but in my day high schoolers were grunge kids. I remember constantly getting in trouble for violating school uniform not by wearing a short skirt but by wearing a flannel shirt over my mandatory white shirt. I wore my Doc Martens tied loosely with black and white checkered laces, and sat on the floor by the lockers listening to Nirvana, Jellyfish, and the Breeders on my ever-playing walkman. Those were the days when KFSAC and EMAC meant something – when the whole school would bunk off last period on Wednesday to catch the first game, and then stay all evening and all weekend, cheering our team to victory and enjoying the barbeques, before everyone would jump into the pool in their clothes after A.S.K. inevitably won. Those were the days when there was nothing to do in Kuwait at night on the weekend but go to Zahra Complex, Pizza Hut, White House or GoForIt tape shops, Chi-Chi’s, California Penguin (a pure A.S.K. hangout in 1993, in the spot where Great Steak and Potato Company is now), Wendy’s, and Carlucci’s for sheesha. Oh, and of course, the old Safir for bowling and billiards. And Fuddruckers in the later years. In those days when there was a party, the whole school would be there – 8th graders to seniors – everyone was friends, and everyone had a good time. The nineties (and especially the early nineties) in Kuwait rocked. We called into K107 – Kuwait’s first post-invasion radio station broadcast live from…wait for it…Camp Doha. We survived Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch. We experienced the release of Nirvana’s “Nevermind”, Pearl Jam’s “Ten”, the Red Hot Chilli Peppers’ “Blood Sugar Sex Magic”, and the Smashing Pumpkins’ “Siamese Dream”. I remember sitting in the hallway with my fellow freshmen mourning the day that River Phoenix died, and the day that Kurt Cobain killed himself. We wore fake tattoos, ear cuffs, and funky coloured Docs (or at least some of us did – and Raine wore maroon Bronx). And then when the mid-nineties descended upon us, we danced our asses off to “Mr. Vain” and did so with pride and with absolutely no shame.

What a time. I think my generation was the last to experience what Kuwait, and A.S.K., was like before everything suddenly changed by the late nineties. To experience what Kuwait was like when only the kids from the four main private schools used to go out on the weekends so everywhere you’d go you’d see everyone you knew and no-one else. We had fun in those days. Remember SAS on the weekends? And Khairan? And shopping in “Old Salmiya”? And the tent in the bara7a in Surra (this is specifically for anyone who went to A.S.K. back in the Surra campus days)?

In 1994 we created a “school sponsored” time capsule to commemorate the 30 year anniversary of A.S.K. It unfortunately got “lost” in the move to the Hawalli campus the next year (how exactly that happened, I will never understand) – the campus in which I was unfortunately forced to spend my final A.S.K. years (*sniff*). I would love to find that box because two of my friends and I put a tape in it of all the music we were listening to at the time. From what I can remember, we had stuff on there from Jellyfish’s “Spilt Milk”, Pulp’s “His’n’Hers”, and Toad the Wet Sprocket’s “Fear” (among others that I can’t remember).

So what’s inside your own “Nineties In Kuwait” time capsule?

It is by pure coincidence that Raine and I both posted about this at the same time. She posted hers before mine, but I had written this a couple of days ago but wasn't able to post it because my internet at home has been out.

Magical Moments

2006-06-04T21:37:00.000+03:00

Once in a while you see an ad on TV that really just gets it right...it works. The music, images, expressions - they all work together perfectly. The product being advertised becomes incidental to the moment taking place in front of you. I'm not speaking from a designer's perspective - critiquing the artistic level of the ad, nor am I speaking from a consumer's perspective - assessing the effectiveness of the ad in making me want to go out and buy their product. Rather, I'm speaking purely from a human perspective - the way the ad made me feel and the overall effect it had on me. Three ads have really done it for me. Here they are in chronological order starting with the most recent (click on the links to watch):

Sony Bravia (2005) - I've posted about this before. This is a beautifully done ad - the song ("Heartbeats" by José González) fits perfectly, and the concept is just so creative. When I first saw it online a few months ago it just silenced me - I was captivated. It stirred up so many different emotions in me. It made me feel happy and peaceful. I love how you don't even know what the ad is for until the very end - in the meantime you get to enjoy the magic and the colours without feeling like someone is trying to sell you something. In fact, at no point do you feel like a consumer. Someone just wants to show you what the world would be like if you were constantly surrounded by beautiful colours. And for that reason, I'm sold - when it comes time for me to buy a proper TV in my own home, I'm going for a Sony Bravia.

VW Cabrio (2000) - This came out while I was still an undergrad. I love Nick Drake and so the song ("Pink Moon") was just perfect. I loved it when I first saw it because I perfectly understood that feeling. I had nights like that before in college - a night when there was supposed to be something really "great" going on - a good party or whatever - and yet doing "nothing" that night with close friends was just so much more appealing (like laying in the grass along the Potomac River or hanging out at the Lincoln Memorial all night). Our life in Kuwait has become like that - how many times has there been a really big party or event going on, and our close group has opted out and snuck off to chalet alone to sit around the dining table playing Uno and to go nightswimming? Also, I've always loved VW's and it's probably the only car I'll ever drive. My first car was a VW Passat (still my current car in Kuwait), which I got when I moved back to Kuwait after university, and the first song I played in it to christen it was Nick Drake's "Pink Moon".

Swatch: "How long is a Swatch minute?"* (1997) - This came out during my freshman year in college. My sisters and I loved it, and "Red" (my older sister) and I were trying to find out who the song was by. That summer we were in Italy as usual with our family, and it was a World Cup year (1998). An Italian family friend had given me and my sisters a mix of some music for some reason and I remember the three of us sitting on the floor next to the stereo listening to it while my parents were on the couch. Suddenly the opening bars of the song came on and the three of us gasped and I remember Red screaming and literally jumping on top of me in excitement, while my mother laughed at her daughters' antics and my father was just like "what just happened?" It was actually a very beautiful family moment - a lovely memory. The song is by Midge Ure, former frontman of the 80s band Ultravox, and is called "Breathe".

There's one more ad that stands out in my memory but I haven't been able to find it online at all, and I've searched around a lot. It was a Levi's 501 commercial from around 1991 (my sister Raine is beaming right now at the memory of me singing along to it). I used to love it so much, and it also used to give me such a feel-good feeling. It's a shame I can't find it anywhere - although I know we have it recorded on video somewhere in Kuwait. "The way it is, it shall be, just like my Levi's 501 jeans, it's got to be (it's gotta be, it's gotta be), it's gotta be...got to be real!" Aaahh, memories!

Feel free to add your own favourites!

*This is the only link I found online - you have to create an account to watch it, but you can create a one-day trial account for free in a few seconds if you're interested - when you've put in your details they'll immediately send you an Email with your username and password. Once you've done that do an advanced search for brand Swatch and director Garry Jones and it'll come up. Then click on the little eye icon under the picture and it'll play.

Saturday in the Park

2006-06-03T22:11:00.000+03:00

Today was the first day of summer in London. It was also my close friend's birthday. She had planned for us to go on a picnic in Regent's Park for the day to play cricket and have some fun, and it turned out to be a glorious day because it was the first day that was sunny, with blue skies and a gorgeous breeze.

The park was packed - it really finally feels like summer is here. We had a nice picnic under a tree, had some birthday cake, and then set up the cricket equipment. First time I played and I have to say it was a blast. Being the postgrad geeks that we are, we split the teams into the Colonizers (Britons, Americans, and Canadians) versus the Colonized (Arabs, South Asians, and Irish). The Colonizers won, but we put in a good effort! Cricket was more fun than I was anticipating. I quickly realized that I had to stop trying to understand the game in relation to baseball! They're more different than I thought. Cricket is definitely more relaxed (at least the way we were playing it) - and it's a lovely way to spend an afternoon. We'll probably be out there again next weekend.

I feel a bit sad now because I've made such a wonderful group of friends, and we're all about to part ways soon. I'm the only one that's staying on for the PhD. Some others might still be around London, but others are leaving town altogether soon. Today was one of those days when you really realize just how much of a good thing you've got going with the people you're surrounded by. I wasn't expecting to make such good friends in a postgrad programme. And yet, here they are, all around me...such a wonderfully eclectic bunch.

Anyway, here are some pictures from our game:

Yay, more Frasier!

2006-06-03T02:07:00.000+03:00

I just got an Email from amazon.com telling me that Frasier Season 8 is being released on DVD on June 13 and I can pre-order it now, which I just did (will be delivered by the 18th at the latest). I need to order this from the States because the UK is still on like season 4 or 5 on DVD. As I've mentioned before, Frasier is something I like to own on original DVD - even though I have to wait for each season to be released, whereas if I downloaded them I could have them all immediately. While waiting is tedious, it nonetheless prolongs the Frasier pleasure for me, so I don't really mind it. June 18 is perfect timing as I'll be coming to Kuwait a few days later - I'll force myself to resist watching it and wait to watch it with P.

I might, however, consider relaxing my no-downloading-of-Frasier-and-24 policy when it comes to season 5 of 24. Since that won't be released until around October or November, I think this summer I'll borrow someone's downloaded version to watch with P while I'm in Kuwait - if anyone has a good, clear copy of the entire season that I can borrow for a while?

And speaking of Jack Bauer, earlier this week I found out that one of my best friends' boyfriend was standing outside of LAX (Los Angeles airport) last week smoking a cigarette and none other than Keifer Sutherland himself came up to him and asked for a lighter!! I flipped when I found out. I told my friend to tell her boyfriend that next time that happens (I know the chances are slim but I'm a believer) to tell him he can have a light on one condition and to CALL ME and make him speak to me! The funny thing is, I called P immediately when I found out and asked him to guess who our friend's boyfriend had met, and asked who the coolest person to ask you for a light might be and he said "I don't know, Jack Bauer?" Not Keifer Sutherland, he actually said "Jack Bauer" as a joke, and I said "YES!!" Suffice it to say, he wasn't expecting his answer to be right.

Absuli Fabulous!

2006-06-02T03:49:00.000+03:00

Because I am an Edo VIP (in absentia), my blog has had the honour of being selected for the unveiling of Edo's latest maki creation..."Absuli Fabulous!" (known officially in Edo as the Kyoto Maki). The creators sent me a full roll of Absuli Fabulous to London by Fed Ex so that I could write this review.

Fabulous indeed. How do I put into words the magic that is Absuli? The 5 1/2 hour plane ride and 2 hours of clearing customs did nothing to take away from the fresh'n'tasty sensation of this culinary masterpiece. It was like an explosion of flavours in my mouth - mint one minute, ginger the next, a spicy tinge followed by the smooth aroma of fresh salmon. What exactly is in here? Nobody knows other than the two-man Absuli Fabulous team, and the man behind the sushi bar - it's the creators' own secret blend of perfection.

As for presentation, seeing as mine got slightly bumped around in its journey across Eurasia, I will go by the review of another Edo VIP in Kuwait, who is one of the first to have tried the newest maki at Edo. Being a designer himself, he is extremely particular about presentation, and will only eat food made out of the freshest of ingredients, so I thoroughly trust his opinion. "Absuli Fabulous is beautiful to look at, and is well prepared and presented. It is rich in colour and taste - you experience each of the many ingredients of the maki step by step as you eat it." In short: "Yummy!!!"

The creators of Absuli Fabulous have both been Edo VIP's since it opened. They are devout sushi eaters, and frequent Edo on an average of four times a week. When I asked him how he would describe his latest creation, Absuli #1 said, "It's zesty, no it's minty, no it's exotic...it's...Absuli Fabulous!" With regard to how they came up with this invention, Absuli #2 simply says, "It's when genius manifests..." Amen.

I should warn you that Absuli Fabulous is not for the boring or unimaginative palate. People who only order California rolls need not even bother. This is for the experienced sushi connoisseur. And, as usual, the regular Edo rule applies: go with an empty stomach, because you're about to eat big, and you're about to eat Fabulous!

My Pet Shop Boys

2006-05-28T05:16:00.000+03:00

I just got the new Pet Shop Boys album Fundamental a couple of days ago and listened to it properly today. Unfortunately, when I pre-ordered my copy online months ago I didn’t know they were going to have a limited edition version with a second CD of all remixed tracks. Now that I got mine I went online to check stuff out and saw that now amazon has the limited edition one. I ordered it but it says it takes 4-6 weeks to dispatch. Oh well. I still want it. I’ve transferred all the songs from the CD I got onto my iPod so that I won’t use the CD and will give it to my fellow PSB fan, S – who, along with E, has danced with me to the extended version of “A Red Letter Day” on repeat for literally hours on end!

Anyway, on to Fundamental.

But first, let me start by saying that I am a massive PSB fan, and I have been since childhood. In the 80s I was listening to whatever my older sisters were listening to so I was well acquainted with the Pet Shop Boys by the time I owned my first album, Discography (a greatest hits of sorts) in 1991. But through Discography I discovered a whole new world of my own. Specifically, “Being Boring” changed my life – not to sound over dramatic but it really did in however “real” of a way a song can actually change you. I remember the first time I heard it, sitting with my sisters and two of my older cousins and it came on TV – it was the first year after the invasion. I was 12. And it blew me away. The whole thing – the video, the song, the lyrics. I would say it was at that moment that my own private love affair with the Pet Shop Boys truly began. PSB songs have a way of reminding you about everything you’ve ever lived through, and everything you’ve ever dreamed or imagined or just simply felt. Songs like “Being Boring” and so many others – they remind you of when you were younger – even if just a few years ago: of the way you used to fantasize about the future, of walking down city streets at dawn, of laughing in fits of hysterics, of saying tearful goodbyes, of spending the night in a car, of dancing through the night, of travelling with friends, of sitting on rooftops talking for hours, of falling in love and dealing with death, of doing things you might never be able to do again – days when you were at your most free, when you were at your craziest, when you were at your happiest, and when you were at your saddest. They make you feel flamboyant, and they make you feel tragic. I guess that sums up Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe themselves – flamboyant, and ever so tragic. And genius…pure genius. If my life had a voice, it would be the voice of Neil Tennant.

Anyway, on to Fundamental.

But first, to give you a frame of reference of my taste, my favourite PSB tracks are (in chronological order): “End of the World” and “Being Boring” (from Behaviour), “Miserablism” (B-side track from 1989-1990), “A Red Letter Day” (all versions!) and “Survivors” (from Bilingual), “In Denial” and “Footsteps” (from Nightlife), “Home and Dry” and “I Get Along” (from Release), and “Flamboyant” (from Pop/Art – and a remix version is on the second CD of the limited edition of Fundamental). I’ve had other favourites come and go – especially when I was younger – but in recent years these have been the ones that have given me most pleasure. I’d say out of all of these “Being Boring” has been with me the longest, and is perhaps most significant. All of these songs make me want to dance and make me want to cry at the same time. That’s the beauty of the Pet Shop Boys. They’re songs are all so bittersweet.

So, finally, here are my thoughts on Fundamental after one day of listening. Overall, the album is certainly not disappointing. As a PSB fan, I hear the same something special in this that I heard in all their previous albums when I first listened to them. I have formed different relationships with all my PSB albums – usually (to me), every song on every album works in its own way, and so you get used to listening to it from beginning to end, and form a relationship with each track one by one. As such, I need some more time to get to know this album to be able to really give it my full account. But, after listening to the album through from beginning to end twice today – first with the CD booklet in hand and second on my iPod while walking around London in the rain – I already have my favourite tracks. After listening to it a few more times I know I’ll start listening differently – hearing things my ears didn’t pick up immediately. But in the meantime, here is my immediate assessment of the first most memorable tracks:

“The Sodom and Gomorrah Show” – very much that flamboyant theatrical side of PSB that brings out the West End performer in you. But by the first chorus you forget all about theatrics and want to just sing at the tops of your lungs, and dance with your arms outspread and your feet barely touching the ground.

“Numb” – the one with the powerful lyrics that makes you want to cry and speaks volumes when you’re in a dark mood – which is sometimes a perfect PSB mood. “I think that I feel too much, I’ve seen too much, there’s just too much thought in my head, I wanna be numb.”

“I’m With Stupid” – the classic PSB dance track. Actually reminds me a bit of “Miserablism” – only higher tempo. This track should be easily palatable to PSB fans and casual listeners alike.

“Casanova in Hell” – absolutely my favourite on this album, from the first second I heard it. For those of you familiar with the tracks I listed as my favourites of all time above, this should come as no surprise. I love it when Neil sings that slightly higher pitch like he does a few times in this song (“what he will write, will recall the bite, of his wit, and legendary appetite”) – it just tugs at my heartstrings. This song will last a long time for me.

“Indefinite Leave to Remain” – another great one. What I love about PSB is that they write beautiful songs about things that most musicians never even consider. Like about applying for citizenship in a country that you have fallen in love with – a place that you have made your home and want to make official. “Seeing you here, you’re my nation, this is my application, give me hope, keep me sane, give me indefinite leave to remain.” Reminds me a bit of their song “London” on Release which was written from the perspective of two Russian immigrants in London (another beautiful song).

“Integral” – the anthem of the album. Every PSB album needs an anthem, and this seems to be it.

Let's see how things change as I keep listening to it. For now, I'll leave you here with some lines from my favourite PSB songs listed above:

“Prophets all predicted extinction, the virgin spoke in apparitions, and if it all came to pass now, you feel we’d all deserved it somehow. But if someone tried, you’d realize, it’s just a boy or a girl, it’s not the end of the world.” (“End of the World”)

“When you’re young you find inspiration in anyone who’s ever gone and opened up a closing door, she said we were never feeling bored. Cause we were never being boring, we had too much time to find for ourselves, and we were never being boring, we dressed up and fought, then thought: make amends, and we were never holding back worried that time would come to an end … we were always hoping that, looking back, you could always rely on a friend.” (“Being Boring” – phenomenal lyrics in the whole track – they travel with me throughout my life, just like the parting words of Stephen Dedalus in Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.)

“Meanwhile your life is still directed as a drama, with realism on the sparsest of sets, every performance tends to reach the same conclusion, no happy endings but a message to depress.” (“Miserablism”)

“All I want is what you want, I’m always waiting for a red letter day, like Christmas morning, when you’re a kid, admit you love me and you always did.” (“A Red Letter Day”)

“If life is worth living, it’s got to be run, as a means of giving, not as a race to be won, many roads will run through many lives, but somehow we’ll arrive, many roads will run through many lives, but somewhere we’ll survive.” (“Survivors”)

“My life is absurd, I’m living it upside down, like a vampire working at night, sleeping all day.” (“In Denial”)

“Loneliness and useless fear, like waves against a ramshackle pier, when thunder and rain, scar the windowpane, once again, I want you near.” (“Footsteps”)

“There’s a plane at JFK to fly you back from far away, all those dark and frantic trans-Atlantic miles. Oh tonight, I miss you, oh tonight, I wish you could be here with me but I won’t see you till you’ve made it back again, home and dry.” (“Home and Dry”)

“Stuck here with the shame and taking my share of the blame while making sudden plans that don’t include you…” (“I Get Along”)

“It all takes courage, you know it, just crossing the street, well its almost heroic.” (“Flamboyant”)

Check your voter registration

2006-05-27T15:47:00.000+03:00

Courtesy of iDip, here are the links to use to check if you're registered to vote in the upcoming elections or not (mainly for people who are out of town and might be concerned, like I was). This is great - I must say I am impressed with the Ministry of Interior. It's impressive for any of our ministries to go automated, let alone so soon after elections have been called!

Men
Women

See, this proves that when Kuwait wants to, it can be efficient. It's the same reaction I had when I first walked into the new Social Security building in Kuwait City last year. The institution was always quite organized, but in the new building it actually feels like a private sector office building, not a public sector service building. You actually have smiling, happy employees, people waiting patiently for their number to be called, an abundance of service terminals, a no smoking policy, ample parking, proper security, and managers who actually go to work everyday. It all depends on who's in charge, but if a government office or ministry wants to be efficient in Kuwait, it can. I know that the fact that every Kuwaiti is guaranteed a job in the government sector puts a strain on the country and produces an overly saturated bureaucracy, but I'm starting to feel like that's a poor excuse for stagnation. It's a pitiful place to be where the more employees you have, the less efficient you become. It should be the opposite. The more employees you have, the quicker each person should be out of there when trying to get a simple procedure done. All it needs is a good leader with good organizational and management skills, and every ministry in Kuwait could be like the Social Security office. Then again, hopefully now that we've started having female ministers things will start to change. I had a meeting with Dr. Masouma al-Mubarak (Kuwait's first female minister, Minister of Planning) in January and she showed up at 7:30am on the dot. I don't think most male ministers would have been on time that early in the morning.

There is my spontaneous rant for the day. Anyway, thank you iDip for the link. Enjoy finding your names online all - I must admit it's a bit thrilling when you see your name and information come up. I cynically thought that it wasn't going to work once I hit enter.

Kuwait

2006-05-26T03:41:00.000+03:00

I hate being so far away from home and having missed out on everything that's been going on. I heard that voters have to register to vote by June 3. Does anyone know if/how I can register in absentia? I'll be in Kuwait by June 29 to actually vote (and I plan on voting my ass off) but I am not going to let them say that I can't register just because I'm overseas. I should call the embassy in the morning but just wondering if anyone might know anything offhand?

Update: I called the embassy to ask and apparently I misunderstood what I had read and that the June 3 deadline is for candidates to register to run. He said that voters were supposed to register in February each year. I said I knew that but there weren't supposed to be elections this year so what about the women who were planning on registering next year, before the 2007 elections? In polite terms: that's their problem. Bollocks. That's the government's problem, not mine. I plan on voting this year no matter what they say.

Redemption: "A new set, a new trip."

2006-05-24T21:19:00.000+03:00

Here are all the goodies for the lastest electronica set, entitled "Redemption", mixed by the one and only system.s. I must say, this is the best one yet. Anyone who enjoys and appreciates electronic music, at a level far above the mainstream, should check this out.

Genre: Progressive House / Progressive Breaks
Duration: 54 minutes , 29 seconds
BPM: Various

Download "Redemption" Set:
High Quality
Medium Quality

Download "Redemption" Artwork:
CD Case
Poster (with full track listing)
Mood Analyser

"Mr. Moose is up, it's done, done, done!!"

2006-05-23T03:28:00.000+03:00

I'm done! Done with all my coursework for my MA. Finished my last exam today. All I have left now is my dissertation, which is the fun part. Holy crap, what a month it's been. Absolutely mentally and psychologically draining. I must say one thing, I hate the British concept of exams! They make it so...arbitrary. How you perform on an exam says nothing about how much you know or how much you've learned - it merely says how you were doing that day, and whether or not you prepared for the exact question topics that appeared on the exam. It's impossible to revise every topic covered throughout the year, so it becomes an issue of strategy. And if you "strategize" wrong, you're screwed! Luckily, I anticipated the right topics on the exam. Now it's just a matter of waiting to see how I actually did, which I'll find out in...December! By then, who cares? I'll already be deep into my PhD programme, other people will have jobs, so who really cares if you got a distinction or a merit? See, it all becomes so arbitrary and, administrative almost. All that matters really is the overall experience, and how much you got out of it. As far as that part goes, the experience and knowledge gained here has been unparalleled.

Anyway, after my exam ended at 1pm today I spent the day hanging around campus with friends - it was that "end of term" atmosphere which I haven't felt in years. Some people still have exams but most finished today. We spent the entire day just milling about the pub on campus, went for dinner, walked around town to a couple of different spots. It felt nice being footloose and fancy free. But the only downer has been the weather - it's been raining all week and right now it's around 13˚ but it feels colder.

I'm taking the rest of the week and weekend off. I'll start researching for my dissertation on Monday. Tomorrow I'm going up to Camden Town with a couple of friends to spend the day with our friend Walter in his neighbourhood - we promised each other a "do-nothing" day - hang out at his place, watch movies, walk around Camden Town. Then Wednesday I'm going shopping, which I haven't done in ages. I need a new pair of 7even jeans. You get the picture - a do-nothing week. Then on the weekend I'm going up to Manchester with some friends. Most are heading up on Friday but Walt and I are catching the train up together on Saturday to meet them there. Then we're coming back to London on Monday (so I guess I'll start on my dissertation on Tuesday). I'm a little antsy about traveling with a bunch of people I've never traveled with before, but it's a fun group so it should be good. Nice to get out of London for a bit. We really need the break!

A special day

2006-05-20T03:07:00.000+03:00

Happy birthday to my precious P. I wish I was by your side today...

Today was my darling mother's birthday too. I wish she was by my side today, and everyday...

And happy two year anniversary to Raine and her O.

Two down...

2006-05-19T22:16:00.000+03:00

Holy crap I've never experienced this kind of pressure before in my life. I am beyond stressed. I am so stressed, I think I've come full circle and become totally relaxed, if that makes sense. It's not that I don't give a shit anymore, it's just that it doesn't really matter whether or not I give a shit anymore. It's outta my hands now. Well, almost...Monday...

One down...

2006-05-18T03:27:00.000+03:00

...two to go.

Take a straight and stronger course to the corner of your life

2006-05-17T04:10:00.000+03:00

"Well I tell you that one day, man, better be your life, man. Because, you know, you can say, oh man, you can cry about the other 364, man, but you're gonna lose that one day, man, and that's all you've got. You gotta call that love, man. That's what it is, man. If you got it today you don't want it tomorrow, man, 'cause you don't need it, 'cause as a matter of fact, as we discovered in the train, tomorrow never happens, man. It's all the same fucking day, man." - Janis Joplin

"Until you've seen this trash can dream come true, You stand at the edge while people run you through, And I thank the Lord there's people out there like you, I thank the Lord there's people out there like you, While Mona Lisas and Madhatters, Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers, Turn around and say good morning to the night, For unless they see the sky, But they can't and that is why, They know not if it's dark outside or light ... And I thank the Lord for the people I have found, I thank the Lord for the people I have found." - Elton John

01:30am...

2006-05-13T03:40:00.000+03:00

...in the library.

The nuts that are my friends...

2006-05-12T05:06:00.000+03:00

...and the little things that make me realize exactly why I love them all as much as I do:

The fact that S smses me regularly at every outing or event that I’m missing out on in Kuwait to give me the play-by-play scoop for the night, just to make sure I’m always kept in the loop. Makes me wonder what his mobile bills are like these days.

The fact that every time (male) A is on msn when I’m on he sends me a message opening with “pbuh!” and then jumps right into conversation. That, and the fact that every time I pick up my copy of “Orientalism” I think of him (“…and all”).

The fact that G sent me a message yesterday while I was in the library, offering to (brilliantly) protect my honour in the face of impending warfare with my neighbours, and then proceeded (as always) to compliment my ever-deteriorating Italian (just being polite, I’m sure, which makes it all the sweeter!).

The fact that (female) A is the only person in the world (other than telemarketers) who actually calls me on my home phone, and calls on a regular basis to check in on me and chat, just like my family does.

And then there’s P...and the fact that, whenever I call him to say goodnight and accidentally end up waking him up (which is almost every night!), he doesn’t care that I’ve disturbed his sleep and I can immediately hear the smile in his voice.

Just a few things I thought about tonight while in the library, which calmed me down in the midst of all my multiple levels of stress.

Neighbour Shit: Take 1001

2006-05-09T02:39:00.000+03:00

I'm hesitant to even write about this, because those of you who have been following my blog for the past couple of months will think I'm just lying now. So here's a bit of proof.

I've been sleeping on the couch the past few days and leading up to my exams because it's the only way I know I won't get woken up in the middle of the night by my idiotic neighbours thumping over my bedroom. Well anyway, yesterday morning I woke up at around 8am to the sound of water dripping. It was raining but the sound was too close to be outside, and I realized there was water leaking through my ceiling onto my dining table, and also all over my kitchen counter area. I immediately called Tom, the head maintenance engineer for our building who has become my new best friend. Anyway, he said he'd send someone immediately but to go upstairs in the meantime and see if there was leakage upstairs too. So I knocked on their door and the same guy I've had my confrontations with before answered and I told him I had water leaking and to check the area above my dining room, and he said he couldn't because it was his flatmate's room (the girl who's name the lease is in) and she wasn't around and her door was locked. So I called Tom back and he said to tell him that if they didn't track her down by the time the engineers got there (in like half an hour) they'd have to break her door down to assess the damage immediately. Of course when I relayed the message the guy got all pissy and argumentative, as if I was the one who wanted to break the door down. Anyway, I just responded by saying that Tom said for him to stay home and wait for the engineers and I went back down to my flat. 10 minutes later the guy knocks at my door and says he couldn't get through to the girl, and that he wanted to come in to check how bad the leak was himself because he didn't think it was necessary to knock down her door. I didn't let him in and said the engineers were on their way to do that themselves, and said that there was major leaking and they had to stop it immediately. He kept arguing and making it seem like I was exaggerating the leak and finally I just raised my voice and said "Look, I'm just telling you what Tom said. If you have a problem with it, take it up with him when he gets here." And then he argued back and said "As usual, you're overreacting to everything!" and at that point I just shut the door in his face. He started yelling through the door and finally yelled out "Bitch!" and went upstairs.

Anyway, the engineers came over (not Tom) and turns out the girl was on her way home so they didn't have to break the door down. They checked my flat and then went upstairs and I didn't see them again. A few hours later I called Tom to get an update and also told him about the fight and the profanity, and he told me I should call the landlord's management office (who he works for) and tell them everything. He said that, like the boiler situation that happened last week, this was their fault as well. Apparently they burn incense all the time and keep throwing the sticks out the window onto the drainage area and eventually all their trash blocked the opening for the water to go down and that's what caused the flooding. And he said that last week, because they didn't report that the boiler was leaking until it eventually exploded, what would have been a £100 repair turned into a £500 repair. He sounded like he'd had it with them too - he said they're also totally neglecting the flat (pigs). He told me to speak to someone specific (who I've never spoken to before) and tell him everything from my end because he'd already reported everything to him that was maintenance-related. He said that way, if they know my complaints along with the maintenance problems, chances are they won't renew their lease.

So I called the guy this morning but he was in a meeting and I left a message and my mobile number. Let's wait and see.

Previous posts on neighbours:
February 12, 2006
February 16, 2006
February 18, 2006
March 22, 2006
March 25, 2006
March 29, 2006
April 26, 2006
April 29, 2006

A violating turn

2006-05-08T13:55:00.000+03:00

I wish I had never put a stat counter on my blog. It's opened up a whole new can of worms for me. I originally started this blog to keep my friends and family at home updated on things going on in my life while I'm here in London. For the first few months I seriously did not think more than like six people were reading my posts. Then I gradually started getting comments from people I didn't know, and it got me curious. So I put a counter on my blog and was shocked to see that I get like 50+ unique visitors a day (and plenty are returning). I know that's nothing in comparison to what a lot of you guys out there get, but for me...it just shocked me! Who are all these people? It's hard for me to imagine why people who don't know me would find my posts interesting enough to keep coming back. I mean, I understand to an extent because there are a couple of personal blogs out there of people I don't know personally that I read on a more or less regular basis (you know who you are!) but the difference is, theirs are actually interesting! But anyway, I've actually gotten comfortable with the other members of the Kuwaiti blogger community who I don't actually know who have started visiting - it's obvious where they've come from and I'm fine with that (so don't worry, I'm not complaining about you!).

But the most disconcerting thing of all is seeing where some people are logging in from. I can understand all the Kuwaiti ISP's, and some of the U.S. ones who I know are people who stop in on a regular basis. But today, for example, there is a UK visitor who came in by way of a blogger search for "Kleio" - and they stayed on for quite a bit, navigating around the archives and all. Was this person looking for me in particular? And if so, who the heck are they? I mean, I understand if people click on my link when I comment on someone's blog and come in that way - but this is the first time someone has done a search for my blogger name. I don't know - it feels wierd. I haven't shared my blog with anyone here in London, simply because this is something that I share with my friends and family at home (and if other people come across me that way, so be it) and since I'm writing about my UK life, I prefer not to bring my UK life into it. Maybe it was just a fluke and this person was looking for something else but it just feels...violating in a way. I know it's ridiculous for me to say that since I'm posting on the internet for the world to see and I shouldn't complain, but still. I just find it strange that someone was searching for it - if they were being referred by someone else they would have the link and wouldn't have to search.

I started this blog with a very particular reason in mind, but since it's starting to bother me maybe I should stop. I'll keep an eye on things for a few more days and then see.

Another year

2006-05-07T16:28:00.000+03:00

My Dad was in town for one night on his way to the States, so yesterday I went over to the Heathrow Hilton where he was staying. We had dinner together, hung out and talked and caught up. Then he had booked me my own room at the hotel for the night so I wouldn't have to go back into London. This morning we had breakfast and hung out until he had to go back to the airport and I saw him off at security check.

What a lovely night. I have so much fun with my Dad. We just talk non-stop about all sorts of things. It was so nice seeing him here, and being able to escape from central London for the night. I love staying at hotels. Usually I prefer small, family-run hotels (but CLEAN!), but once in a while there's nothing like staying at a big five-star chain and spoiling yourself. After my Dad went to sleep in his room, I got my books out and actually got quite a bit of studying done. But at the same time I couldn't resist the temptation to order a plate of fries from room service at 1am and watch TV in bed for a bit. (Hey, there was an interview with Keifer Sutherland on - a.k.a. Jack Bauer - I wasn't about to miss that!)

Suffice it to say that when I got onto the train after saying good-bye to my Dad, I felt sad and homesick. Then when I got home, there was a big envelope from my university waiting for me. It was my official acceptance letter into the PhD programme starting in September. I'd already heard from my supervisor last week that I'd been offered a seat in the programme - there wasn't much chance that I wouldn't be admitted since I've been doing well on the MA and have already started working with my supervisor, who makes the final acceptance call. But reading the letter, and having to sign my acceptance of their offer - for some reason it just made me feel strange. I was officially signing myself off to another year here (since the remaining two years I'll be in Kuwait) - alone, away from my Dad and sisters, and away from my P. I know I'm here for a reason, and I do want to be here, doing what I love. But making it official...well it just broke my heart.

I'm off to the library.

Dammit...it's spring!

2006-05-06T05:18:00.000+03:00

The weather has been absolutely gorgeous this week. And it's pissing me off, because I feel trapped indoors, studying for exams! Today was the deadline for all written coursework to be submitted to the university...essays/papers. I finished off all my papers a couple of weeks ago and turned them into the department earlier this week. But there was an alarming number of students who had left things to the last minute. Most of my friends were working like dogs the past few days (and nights) to get theirs done to meet the 4pm deadline today. I just can't understand that. We've known about the May 5 coursework deadline since the start of the year! Some departments have their own fixed deadlines throughout the year, and if you miss those deadlines you lose 2% per day until you submit your work - but the university deadline was today, after which no work will be accepted for evaluation. The history department does not have fixed deadlines and basically all work had to be submitted by the university deadline (i.e. today). I turned in my first round of papers in December/January, and my second round this week. But the majority of students were cramming in their second round of work this week. I could never work like that - under a 72, 48, or even 24 hour truncated deadline. It's insane! I guess that's one of the advantages of taking time off between undergrad and postgrad - you get out of that undergrad "all-nighter" mind-set and budget your time more realistically. The only students I know who planned their time properly have been the "older" students.

And now exams are upon us, and it's so frustrating because, finally, after a long cold winter, spring has finally hit! The sun is out in all its shining glory, and all you feel like doing is sitting in the grass in a tanktop and soaking it in...but then you have to go back into the library after a half-hour study break on the lawn. But this is it...two more weeks. I have never looked forward to anything as much as I am looking forward to May 22. This spring feeling makes me feel happy and giddy. Knowing that in two more weeks I can thoroughly enjoy it is enough motivation to get me through it all.

Off topic, my university has a public art gallery in one of its buildings, and this month there is an exhibition of photographs of Kuwait by Kuwaiti photographers (none that have anything to do with my school). I went to check it out today. It was strange...being in my university, in the middle of my life in London, looking at photos of Kuwait. Artistically, they were OK...as a once-photographer myself (life has sucked all the time I could invest into that part of myself away), they didn't really blow me away. There were one or two that were quite good, but the majority were more or less snapshots with good lighting. Anyway, for me though, they were cool because they momentarily let me escape from my hectic life here and go back home. You had the usual stuff - the Kuwait Towers, dhows, old Kuwaiti houses, etc. But there were also a couple of "modern" Kuwait - which unfortunately were just pictures of shopping malls. But the one that I loved seeing, up there on the wall in my uni, was one of the marina at Souq Sharq, because it showed the yacht that I rented out last year for a surprise party for P's birthday. We cruised up and down the coast for six hours at night, and it was such an amazing time - and everyone who was there, many of whom might be reading this now, agreed that it was one of the best nights they'd ever had in Kuwait. So, for a momentary escape down memory lane, I zoomed into the photo and took a picture of the yacht with my Sony Ericsson so that I could post it for you all here.

(It's not the best quality, since I took it with my phone, but oh well...it did the trick!)

Life

2006-05-03T05:54:00.000+03:00

Don't you love it when you get that same feeling you get when you're going downhill on a rollercoaster - that excitement in the pit of your stomach - just over nothing...over everything?

SIGH

2006-04-29T12:42:00.000+03:00

Two little bits of info to share:

1) I have £1.40 to last me till Tuesday (that's about 700 fils). Literally. (I could have withdrawn from my Kuwaiti credit card except that I just discovered it expired in March and I didn't realize it before to have it renewed while I was home.) Any suggestions on how to make that last? I desperately need laundry detergent to wash my towels (I'm down to the last drop) but at the same time, I need food. Then again, three days of no food could be a good weight loss regiment. I have a bag of pasta so I could keep making penne with olive oil, garlic, and herbs everyday. Maybe I should get a guitar and go sing in the tube station.

2) I came home the other night and noticed some big browish-yellow lines/stains on my ceiling in my bedroom. No water was dripping so I decided not to fret about it for the night because I didn't feel like having another confrontation with my neighbours. Next morning I called my landlord's maintenance guy (who knows me all too well by now) and he said the idiots upstairs had a boiler leak for days and didn't report it - they just kept mopping up the water - until it finally completely burst and flooded the place! B.L.O.O.D.Y-M.O.R.O.N.S. Uhhhh - EVICTION?? Haven't they done enough to get kicked out by now? I can't wait till the girl who's actually on the lease comes back into town - I'm gonna have a loooooong talk with her.

Almost there

2006-04-27T16:18:00.000+03:00

I can't believe I am almost done with the coursework for my MA. I have comprehensive exams starting in about three weeks (three exams in total). Then I'll be independently working on my dissertation for about 3 1/2 months. That's the fun part - I'm really excited to get started on that. In the meantime, all my time is being spent revising and preparing for exams. It's a bit nervewracking because I haven't taken an exam in about six years. The way our exams are structured (three thematic essay questions in three hours - per exam), it is as much about strategy as it is about content. Each exam is worth 50% of the total for that course. That's the scary bit!

Meanwhile, the weather is getting warmer. It's still chilly out but the sun is becoming more visible and the skies are getting bluer. It's the kind of weather where you just want to lay down in the park and read, or sit outside at a café or pub with friends and just blow off the whole afternoon. But, sadly, I can't do either, because the library has become my second home! But I'm looking forward to May 22, the day of my last exam. Only then will I be able to really appreciate London for the glorious city that it really is!

I can't believe I've been living here for nearly a year. It's really gone by fast. Sometimes I catch myself, walking down the street, going to class or whatever, and it hits me: I'm really here - in London - doing my MA/PhD. I had been waiting for this for four years before I finally managed to put my life in Kuwait on pause and get my ass over here. I had gotten so caught up with work and life, that "grad school in London" slowly became that thing that you always know you're gonna do, but the image of yourself actually doing it starts to fade. The longer you wait, the harder it becomes to actually see yourself doing it. So when I actually made the decision to finally get up and go, the process of applying to schools, applying for scholarships, packing up, etc - they all became motions that I was going through without really thinking too much about the actual thing I was doing. And then, suddenly, one day, I looked around and found myself in London. And now, it's nearly a year later, and I'm almost at the end of the first big step.

Life's a funny little thing, isn't it?

It's never gonna end

2006-04-26T00:51:00.000+03:00

Holy crap I think my neighbours are doing karaoke upstairs. It's either that or they have a band playing live. I HATE THEM!!!

Phobias

2006-04-23T05:32:00.000+03:00

I found a list of phobias online (don’t ask why) that gives the proper “scientific” name for an endless number of…umm…legitimate fears. Now, I really don’t think all of these are legitimate fears – the guy must have made some up – but a lot of them either are definitely or at least sound legitimate, so you never know! Otherwise this guy had waaaaay too much free time on his hands! I actually have some of these phobias (some of which I didn’t even know existed in quasi-scientific terms!). Anyway, there are some highlights that I just had to share because they are laugh-out-loud funny. This is all in good humour and I sincerely hope I don’t offend anyone reading this who might actually have one of these fears (if you do have any of the fears below I truly hope that you are seeing somebody about it). Here it goes (the parenthetical comments are my own):

Aibohphobia - Fear of palindromes – not necessarily an actual word; aiboh is not of course Greek or Latin for Palindrome, but is simply intended to make the word itself palindromic. (FYI: a palindrome is a word, phrase, verse, or sentence that reads the same backward or forward.)

Alliumphobia - the abnormal fear of garlic that may extend to a variety of plants characterized by their pungent odor including onions, leeks, chives, and shallots. Allium is the onion genus. (Garlic? What if it comes out of a tube? My sisters will get the joke.)

Allodoxaphobia - Fear of opinions. (I think everyone on our Parliament has this one.)

Anemophobia - Fear of air. (That one’s gotta suck.)

Anthrophobia, Anthophobia - Fear of flowers. (They watched Alice in Wonderland as a kid.)

Arachibutyrophobia - Fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of the mouth. (Yeah, I got this one.)

Atelophobia - Fear of imperfection. (I really do have this one.)

Aulophobia - Fear of flutes. (Hmmmm…maybe someone had a bad experience at band camp.)

Autophobia, Eremophobia, Ermitophibia, Isolophobia, Monophobia - Fear of being alone or fear of oneself. (That’s gotta suck as bad as fear of air. Can you imagine if you had both?)

Bolshephobia - Fear of Bolsheviks. (Hey!)

Bathophobia - Fear of depth. (I know lots of people with this one! They prefer to remain nice and shallow.)

Bibliophobia - Fear of books. (Finally we have a name for our social condition!)

Blennophobia, Myxophobia - Fear of slime. (These were kids who used to be on Nickelodeon in the 1980s.)

Button phobia - Fear of buttons. (Well, when you think about it…they are kind of weird.)

Cacophobia - Fear of ugliness. (Abso-friggin-lutely!)

Cathisophobia, Kathisophobia, Thaasophobia - Fear of sitting. (Thank goodness for Turkish toilets.)

Chelonaphobia - Fear of turtles. (I have that. I really do.)

Chinophobia - Fear of Chinese people, customs, etc. (No comment. Oh, found out my neighbours are Chinese, btw, not Korean.)

Chronophobia - Fear of time. (Jazz Central must have this one.)

Dextrophobia - Fear of objects at the right side of the body. (LOL!)

Dikephobia - Fear of justice. (Another one for our MPs.)

Doxophobia - Fear of expressing opinions or receiving praise. (You got this one if you graduated from the Kuwaiti government school system.)

Euphobia - Fear of hearing good news. (Huh?)

Eurotophobia - Fear of female genitalia. (Sucks if you’re a woman. Sucks if you're a straight man, too.)

Europhobia - Fear of Europe, Europeans, or alternatively, the European Union. (The EU – Hahahahahahahahahaha!!)

Genuphobia - Fear of knees. (Cool. If anyone has a fear of knees please leave me a comment. I’d like to meet you. Seriously.)

Hegelophobia - Fear of Hegel. (Marx must have spent his life looking over his shoulder, waiting for a pissed off Hegel to creep up on him, twist his arm, and yell: “Flip it back! Flip my dialectic back!” That must be where the phobia came from.)

Heresyphobia, Hereiophobia - Fear of challenges to official doctrine or of radical deviation. (Oh geez, we know too many of these to list.)

Levophobia - Fear of things to the left side of the body. (Can you imagine if you had that and dextrophobia? Hee hee hee!)

Papaphobia - Fear of the Pope. (Povero papa!)

Pogonophobia, Pognophobia - Fear of beards. (I HAVE THIS ONE! Stick a mini-dishdasha into the mix and you’ll see me run so fast you’ll develop Tachophobia - Fear of speed.)

That was a nice little study break. Here’s the link for you to play around with. Enjoy! Shall we see if we can come up with some of our own? I'll start - Niqabophobia: Fear of mitnaqbas or people dressed like ninjas.

Back in London

2006-04-22T05:07:00.000+03:00

My flat wasn't robbed, and so far no signs of breeding mice. Whew.

The weather's getting warmer - it was 15˚ today. Went to Sainsbury's without a jacket on. But now that it's night my apartment is chilly but it's not worth turning the heat on because gas prices have been soaring this year so I only turn it on when I absolutely have to.

I slept for one hour the night before I traveled (Thursday night), and then I slept for about two hours on the plane. I got bumped up to World Traveller Plus because my TV wasn't working back in economy. This flight restored my faith in British Airways (I've been having terrible experiences with them in the recent past). Anyway, I was exhausted when I got home and thought I'd sleep for a couple of hours on the couch, wake up around 6pm and then study. Well, I slept at 4pm...and woke up at 1:30am!! Now I need to force myself to go back to sleep so that I don't give myself jetlag.

Well, I'm off to go watch "Curb Your Enthusiasm" on TV and try to fall asleep.

Oh, and I miss Kuwait and all you guys terribly.

Especially my P...

A brief history lesson

2006-04-17T01:24:00.000+03:00

Old Kuwait Town. Photo courtesy of British Petroleum Archives collection.

I love driving and walking around Kuwait City. It's my favourite part of the country. I'm shocked at how many new buildings are coming up in the city - the crane:building ratio is starting to compete with Dubai!

But the new stuff is not what makes me love that part of town so much - it's actually the old buildings that I get so attracted to everytime I drive around. I'm glad that so many of the old original buildings that were on the verge of collapse have finally been renovated - like the nurse's residence near Amiri Hospital and the old American Mission Hospital. I'm hoping that the palaces of Sheikh Khaz'al (behind the British Embassy and new diabetes hospital - the smaller palace of the two is more commonly known as Qasr al-Ghanim) get fixed up as well - they used to be beautiful but have almost completely disintegrated. It's such a shame that our government waits so long before finally deciding to preserve such significant bits of our history. They either tear everything down or wait until it completely falls apart, and then they decide to build a "replica village" to recreate what they tore down or neglected all these years.

There's so much history in Kuwait City that so many people, especially young Kuwaitis, just don't know about. So I'm gonna take a few minutes now to share some random little historical tidbits about Kuwait City (and environs). Many of you might already know some of these, but I'll only include facts that were unknown to at least three people that I have previously shared them with.

* The old Kuwait Town used to be built on a hill, with a gradual incline leading up from the sea toward the soor (old town wall). Both the wall and the hill were leveled after the advent of oil urbanization.
* The sea actually used to reach the first line of houses that are now on the non-sea-side of the Gulf Road (where many old diwaniyas still stand, and where the front gate of the Dickson House is). (I'm surprised at how many people I encounter don't know this!)
* In the old town, the old mudbrick houses built directly along the seafront were usually painted a bright white, and as you went further up the hill towards the desert the walls of the houses became progressively duller, until reaching the houses along the soor which were mostly unpainted and brown (mudbrick). This progression from white paint to brown mudbrick reflected the affluence of the families living inside the town (the most affluent lived on the sea, and so on up the hill).
* Four out of the five original gates of the old town wall are still standing today (the fifth was destroyed during the Iraqi invasion in 1990). Most people drive past at least one of these gates on a regular basis, on the Sheraton round-about (known as Jahra Gate), which many non-Kuwaitis actually think is just some fake monument that was built to beautify the round-about! In fact, the round-about was built because of the gate's position.
* Speaking of which, Jahra used to actually be a beautiful desert oasis. So was Fahaheel.
* In the old Kuwaiti mudbrick houses, it is usually 10˚ cooler when standing in the central courtyard (although it is outdoors), than when standing outside the gates of the house (the walls were built extremely thick to absorb the heat).
* Most old mudbrick houses consist of long and relatively narrow rectangular-shaped rooms of similar width. This is because they always used to use chandal (wooden) beams on the ceilings that were imported from India, all of which were delivered pre-cut into the same size (hence the uniformly narrow width of all rooms). The first house to break this pattern was the Dickson House, formerly the British Political Agency - in the very early 1900s Captain W. Shakespeare, one of the first PA's to Kuwait, added the second storey to the Agency in which he built a large drawing room, that had to have much larger chandal beams custom-made, and which held Kuwait's first ever fireplace (much needed too, as Kuwait's winters used to be freezing in those days!).
* Kuwait's first airport was in Nuzha.
* Ever wonder why, until recently, Kuwait had such strict laws concerning visitor visas? According to Zahra (Dickson) Freeth, in the 1960s, Western hippies used to transit in Kuwait on their way to India, and they used to leave the airport and "hang out" on the streets around town, waiting for their connecting flight. A bunch of free-loving hippies on the streets of a just-barely-modernizing Kuwait...what an interesting image!
* I could go on like this for hours, so I'll end here with a photo. This is of the gate of the old Seif Palace, and this quote was added around 1918. In Arabic it says "Low dammat lighairek ma ittasalat ilaik" which, in my own crude translation, is: "If it was left to others it would not have passed on to you." It has been speculated that this quote alludes to the way Sheikh Mubarak I came to power (I'm not going to enter into controversy here - not yet - not until I am armed with my PhD!). Anyway, of course, the quote will always remain subject to interpretation, and different people have different explanations for it. If you look carefully when driving past you can see the quote from the street, but be careful because you kind of have to crane your neck while simultaneously keeping your eyes on the road!