Author: Um Abbas

The Case of Potatoes

For the past several weeks of my 2in1 period of life with nr.2 addition to the family I seem to be rather craving one basic (Czech) nutritive – potatoes. Usually boiled, but in any case, I need them. I like rice, don’t get me wrong, but seriously, the amount of rice consumed in Kuwait is just way too much! I was born and raised in a potato country and as such I believe irreversibly in the power of a raw potato (good for your bones, my grandma used to say. True, she used to say fresh yeast is good for skin too – which probably is considering the heaps of vit. B contained in it – but my joy of eating that was much, much less visible.), and I believe that potatoes contain a lot of vitamins and minerals and generally stuff your average mid-European body needs for it’s survival and hence my insane craving for them in the third trimester is actually easily explainable – back to the roots, back to the healthy body with true balanced diet!
Well, whatever it is forcing me to eat ‘tatoes; Abbas maybe, considering how skillfully he made me eat a bunch of steaks – and still want them – although I am normally red-meat non-eater; today’s lunch for me is decided.
Škubánky!
[fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][pr.:shkoobahnkee] (Or you prefer to call it kucmouch? [pr.:cootsmokh])


It’s a sort of potato boiled balls with flour mashed together and that ripped apart with a spoon dipped in butter (or lard), served with whatever you prefer – sweet with powder sugar and ground poppy seeds and a spoon of butter over it, or a certain kind of hard quark (curd) which I reckon I can’t really describe unless you are raised in Czech, or salty variant with salt and pickles, or bacon – in which case you can also dry/lard fry the potato mash.
It’s rather versatile and very cheap when it comes to materials needed for cooking – just butter, potatoes, flour, water and something to add as finishing as mentioned above, and it’s a traditional Czech meal, which I believe was also widely sported during both WWs in my country – or so said both of my grandmothers.
I believe my Kuwaiti (read: harees, yareesh, maraaq and machboos raised husband) will once again wonder what’s so wrong with his wife, that she cooks something which looks so stomach unfriendly and weird – but hey, not as if harees looks delicious on the first glance!

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The Kuwait Constitution Articles 35 and 36

Article 35 of Kuwait constitution: Freedom of belief is absolute. The country protects all religions symbols.

Article 36 of Kuwait constitution: Freedom of expression is protected. Every person has that right in speaking, writing, or any method.

LWDLIK – So why is the building of churches being curtailed? Why are art exhibitions stopped? Why is the death penalty for blasphemy being introduced? Something much more serious is at hand: The challenging of the constitution – the very basis of law and protection of the people.

Related articles outside blog:
Kuwait must stop introduction of death penalty for blasphemy – Amendment massive step backwards: Amnesty
Assembly nods to death penalty for blasphemy – MPs press govt over laid-off Kuwaitis
Muslim Brotherhood plans to take over Kuwait by 2013: Khalfan
Christians face shortage of churches in Kuwait – Easter celebrated around the country
Art exhibit raided, gallery closed down
Artist ‘more determined’ after ban
Kuwait DSLR Camera Ban Now in Effect

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First Real Crochet

I’ve finally managed to crochet something of shape, colour and even representable to the world. I’ve followed a pattern for the soles of the shoes, but the rest is my own doing, and I am even quite satisfied with the result. Had to write it down on paper while crocheting, so I won’t forget the pattern for the second shoe after I finish the first one.



I just hope it will be in the right size for coming home from hospital with – inshallah – Abbas. (And pink version for the little girl my sister in law is expecting just few days after me.)

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… and 38

…which is, supposedly, the temperature in shade (in Celsius) we’ve reached today. Well yay (nay), it’s 8th of April, and I am not prepared to get barbecued yet!
Yesterday I’ve optimistically opened the nice, rounded window in my room to get some fresh air for the morning, and equally quickly I’ve shut it back, as instead of some, at least little bit, refreshing air, I’ve got a heat slap. Big time.


April is the month of storms in Kuwait which according to my husband means a weather change – or so to say a year time change, and I suppose we could call it a spring, the stormy thing, because it seems to happen when winter ends and summer starts. And we’ve got not real spring here, so let’s call it spring; shall we?
Cats are shading hair as crazy and I don’t blame them, I feel like shading my pants and shirts off me too. I am just so not build for heat.


Often it’s somewhat between dusty and rainy, which creates a rather interesting muddy-in-the-air (picture of my window after one of these inserted above).
Nevertheless, summer is here, inevitably and irreversibly and I can stand on my head and it won’t change a thing about it.


We’ve finished shopping for the nursery, inshallah, and now I am just waiting for a call from Kaifan station to pick up my packages coming from UK, Turkey and Czech, containing just a little bit more for the baby, clothes and diapers mainly. Aaaand yes. I actually do blog about diapers. And I fear it’s going to get worse.
When we arrived from the second wave of baby shopping my husband looked like a true Kuwaiti man, with a balcony puckering his lips, desperate face, empty wallet, dozens of bags hanging in his hands, and with a smiling, content wife nearly jumping a step behind him. (Photo of how relaxed can a man be after one big shopping is below).


Aaaand yes – I am ruining my husband’s bank account. No better reason than preparing for the bundle of joy, right? (I have this feeling that this is just a sarcasm used by childless people, really.)

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39

…days to go – supposedly, at least that’s what my Lilypie sticker says that it’s left to the 40 week mark. I’ve been dipping into nesting reflex recently which resulted in me sending my husband out on an errand to hunt some crochet hook and yarn, so I can practice a bit before my real crocheting order comes around – which, so far, doesn’t seem to. I blame Easter, busy postal services and so on. The taste to crochet is blamed on nesting reflex.
I’ve managed to hook up my first creation which, amusingly, turned out in a shape of a newborn hat. Wonder why, don’t you?

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Počítání (na žebra)

Já vím, já vím. Počítat týdny do porodu je to samé jako sedět na nudné přednášce někde v aule gymnázia a pohledem sledovat tikání nástěnných hodin; možná i ve snaze vteřinovku trošku, malilinko posunout a uspíšit, než člověk nudou lekne nebo začne velmi neelegantně a nahlas pochrupovat.
Nic nenadělám, počítám, hlavně když se malý všelijak točí, kroutí a na břiše mi dělá mimozemsky vypadající vybouleniny. Vybouleniny bolí, neb je dělá ostrými údy. A já jsem, koneckonců, ve stavu konstantní paranoie, že se něco stane, že se něco podělá, stejně jako v předchozích pokusech, a vůbec, už by mohl být květen, stihomam by mohl poodejít a posečkat na dalšího člověka jako já. A manžel by si oddychl, že skutečně neobsahuji ani predátora, ani aliena, a možná se mému pupku projednou zas přestal obloukem vyhýbat (s velmi vyšinutým výrazem v tváři, přinejmenším.)
Na druhou stranu, není nad to si užít těch pár posledních týdnů jakéhos takéhos spánku a klidu, než mi hlava pukne z breku a špinavých plín – v případě, že se sem dostanou, pokud celníci přestanou konečně stávkovat. Kdo vlastně stávkuje v Kuvajtu, heh? Stát má jako jediný, co znám, státní neschodek, alébrž výdělek či jak se tomu říká, když se peníze v zemi vydělávají; nejsou tu daně, a platy jsou, inu, dá se říct i slušné. Pro rodilé Kuvajťany samosebou, pro expatrioty pravděpodobně dost na to, aby sem za prací jezdili v prvé řadě. Čímž samosebou netvrdím, že je to tu samé sedmikrásky.

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