One thing I love in Kuwait is being able to watch from beyond my lens the plethora of contrasts, and the architecture can demonstrate this very well. From all the glass and chrome skyscrapers, over the symbolical blue and white water reservoirs, to almost crumbling down apartment complexes built 50 years ago. Private versus state buildings, various schools versus foreign funded universities, and so on. The first photograph is a state funded secondary school, under it is one of the palaces of Prince of Kuwait, and than a random house within the city centre. The last picture features a watermelon seller of my choice. Yumm!
Whatever I’ve managed to snatch from car or around. I usually have the wrong lens for these things, like my 77mm today (great for portraits!), whilst the wide angles laid happily at home… well, gotta work with what you’ve got! Since ever I’ve lived here, I’ve christened Kuwait to “country of contrast”, at least architectural, largely due to a lack of restrictions and regulations, so finding a lot of diversity among the houses isn’t a problem – on the contrary, sometimes, the streets are just a big mess! (To the European eye, of course.)
A week flew by, we didn’t do much so far, except informative stuff and some visits to doctors. That includes yesterday’s visit of ER after kiddo got fevers and weird blister no her neck; which resulted in knowing nothing for the rest of the day (the doc said he can’t say anything yet) and today’s quite sure option of chickenpox, as the one weird blister cloned geometrically into dozens and dozens and they’re still coming in bunches like immigrants to a new promised land. So tomorrow’s another doctor, now for powder to cover the spots and hope for Dori not to scratch them bloody. She got – most likely – infected in her build-from-a-box school the last days she was there.
To the highest mountain, Boots!
My old childhood game “Big noses”, made from maple seeds.
View from the “highest mountain” above the town
Castle garden in town
We managed to get out quite nice though and Dori seems to enjoy the nature rather a lot, even gave up on screaming on every bug and fly and spider she sees. She landed heads first in a park and obtained a roughly scratched elbow with a lot of cry, but now carries it as a trophy of her adventures. (I’m small Dora, you’re big Boots.) I’m quite positive she will miss that outing back in Kuwait, although she started to miss her daddy here as well, and is now torn apart between these two options.
Why? Simply because I don’t feel so comfortable with re-adapting to new situations anymore. No, I don’t mean changing the daily schedule, but moving out and in – flat, town, country, life. Within two and half years I’ve got used to the thought that we will reside in Britain for given period of time (three years) and than we will move on to different country and start over somewhere else. Eventually, I will be the one starting over, as for hubby it is just moving back home. But that’s not the issue. As the period of time is almost over (ok, ok, I know I’m freaking out prematurely, it is still few months), my mind randomly wanders to the ends “what will – if will – what if – how to – whyyyyy?” related to moving outta Britain and getting settled in Kuwait. I’ve got, during the time, quite used to that idea though, and my mind have just locked onto it, not much willing to go off the set up route anymore. Not like I really find peace and safety in this moving – it really, widly scares the heck outta me. But, in spite of my stubborn tries never to plan anything or it will get destroyed / smacked down / lifted up and shattered into tiny bitsy pieces, my mind’ve got into those small planning steps such as: I wanna have a pool in the house or I wanna have this or that over there, and generally I’ve just got comfortable with the fact that this is the inevitable future and it’s better to get along than to try to fight the unknown. Right? To add some spice to the life Abood came recently home suggesting he will try to get his PhD. (which I supposse as a good idea), and that might be in Australia. “Australia?!!” – came to my mind, numbing the feeling in my fingers and stopping my brain full of swimming pools and creamy walls of the kuwaiti house we don’t have yet and won’t have for quite some time even if we get to the desert right now; “Australia!”, the completely other end of the world, winter in summer and summer in winter, new people, new town, new life, new adapting? “God, no way!” – that all has been going through my empty head (at the time full of these thoughts). Hubby, probably feeling the overwhelming wave of pure panic eating me inside out, have replied quite promptly: “Or maybe here in Britain,” and it actually have stopped the urge to run around screaming absurdly till my body and lungs go numb; but the soothing power of the word Britain – something familiar, something I’m quite wont to cooperate with and live in, vaporized in few hours and than only one thought kept on repeating in my head – 3 years, new 3 years, I’ll be 28 by than, where’s that Abbas thing and the house and moving and getting used to desert and stuff like that? Where’d it all go?