Ok, maybe not a castle. It is somewhere between villa and a castle in my puny European eyes; it is, however, considered a rather small family house here among the Kuwaitis. Angle of view, origin of upbringing? Maybe. Nonetheless, it’s a house, it’s big enough for all of us, it is our home (well, maybe. ‘Bu Abbas is still deciding whether to move in or not once it’s done.) It’s got all the space and convenience we could muster up ourselves – and order the architect around to conform to it. True, there are some changes. Some are fine, some might be an improvement even; some made me a bit sad (like cutting off the terrace on side and a nice feature of arches in there due to an unspoken municipality law nobody bothered to mention – until it was about to be built.)
But; it stands, alhamdulilah. From sand and heat, I present you with the black skeleton of our house.
(Excuse the quality of the pictures. Those are taken mainly as a documentary for my husband and I’ve just decided to slap them here, compositions and even horizon aside.)
I am quite happy how this is panning out, although not fully according to our wishes and desires (some changes were made on the building after all, but oh well… and it’s still a remote location deep in the desert at the moment, with really no life besides some camel herders at all. There’s a holiday resort closeby, maybe that will bring some life in it. I hope.)
I certainly wouldn’t mind living there!