Tag Archives: Dori

Hijab Celebration…

… at Dori’s school. For those of the girls who embraced a scarf. Interesting experience through the eyes of an European for sure!
Please, do forgive me the composition and occasional blur in the foreground (usually caused by front row people tilting in to my frame), ’twas a tid bit crowded and for some (still) fascinating reason, palm-and-bigger-sized smartphones are fine with the vast majority of people at various events, but a conventional camera somehow intimidates and scares – so flashing out my Pentax with proper lens in a Jaffaria school was a bit of an adventure for me. I really don’t think Samsung pics would do it this time.
So, here it goes – girls’ school, girls’ celebration; in Kuwait. By my inconspicuous black box of wonders.
More details on the subject of the celebration later.
Also, I still adore when my husband dresses in dishdasha and ghutra with igal. So smexy! Don’t you think?

Můj dárek sama sobě k narozeninám (Mám začít hledat šediny?)

Jest návštěva, a to prozatím první, mých rodičů zde u nás doma, v Kuvajtu. Zítra je čeká první životní Štědrý Den na písku, o dost blíž rovníku, než je tomu na Vysočině. Zatím se nám nepodařilo sehnat stromek, ale tak, alespoň jsem naháčkovala pár blyštivých hvězdiček na zeď. Provizorium stačí.
Rodičové naštěstí nevypadají, že by jim (narozdíl ode mne) sníh, mráz a tak vůbec nějak chyběly.
Dnes jsme navštívili Mubarakiyu, jež se shledala snad se zájmem a úspěchem; nakoupili pár mikrodárků domů těm nevyvoleným, co na sněhu Vánoce trávit budou, oblékli mého tátu do zimního bishtu, ofotili v přidané tradiční pokrývce hlavy a plácli na FB; kuvajtský čas pak završili tradičním obědem (sic objednaným do klidu domova) v podobě machboos diyay [madžbus dijáj] a zatláskli nakonec kanáfou. To aby ty Vánoce zítra nebyly tak moc domácké.


Jeden z vchodů na tržiště

Křídlo s masem

Nádoby na bukhur

Rybí tržnice

Nalévání olejových parfémů do ozdobných skleniček (po zdatném smlouvání ze strany manžela, vysvětlující “úsměv” prodavače)

Český tatínek v tradičním kuvajtském zimním oděvu pro muže, s pravou ovčí kožešinou zevnitř (Komu to vadí, promine)

Nakupování misbah (růženec muslimů) v jednom z obchůdků na tržnici

A jeden klasický protiva.

Ačkoliv jsme měli hrdinný plán napéci trochu cukroví, špičky a perníčky a vánočku, moc se toho zatím neudělalo, kromě špiček – bez rumu. Zítra se pokusím vrhnout na vánočku, aby se neřeklo, ale také je naplánovaný oběd u tchýně, tož se ještě uvidí. Krom toho nemám při ruce mandle, a do obchodu se mi nechce…
Naši se s tchánovci setkali o víkendu a vše proběhlo zdárně, kromě občasné škytavky v komunikaci, ježto je angličtina všem čtyřem starším mluvčím ne tolik známá; takže občasná konverzace čekoarabskoanglicky musela být rozkódována mnou či manželem. Ale nikdo se nepobil, dokonce ani nehádal, ba co víc, ani nemračil, což považuji za úspěch. Byla by koneckonců škoda, kdyby se rodičové navzájem nesnesli.
Abbás je po očkovaní do obou stehen, včera toho moc, chudák malý, nenachodil, jak ho to bolelo, a dnes byl ještě plačtivý (tedy, kdy on není, je spíš otázkou); ale vyhlídka a pak dlouhé “dai dai”, což je “bye bye”, neboli jít kamkoliv mimo byt, ho uklidnila a i on (nebo právě on?) si procházku na chladném zimním vzduchu užil. Chladném, jakožto okolo 5°C při odchodu a 15°C v poledne.
Děda nám to vůbec komplikuje tím praktikováním dai dai minimálně jednou denně teď. Marjam bude na světě co nevidět, a vedra přijdou pomalu s ní. A já ven v padesáti ve stínu jednoduše nepáchnu, macecha nemacecha.
Teď se ještě zbavit těch náramně spokojených octomilek, které se mi tu vyrojily s guavami, ale s guavami neodešly a otravují a množí se bůhvíkde; a všechno bude v pohodě a klidu, jaký má na svátky být. Jen škoda, že Dori musí jít zítra do školy. Ale jsme v jiné zemi, koneckonců, a vzdělání je nutnost.

I’d Love to Have a Minute to Be Myself, Please…

… so I can finish some of my stuff. Like, uhm, the crocheted blanket I wanted to have finished by December. I am about 90% away from fulfilling that particular goal. Maybe a tad more. Note, that the blanket is supposed to cover a king sized bed.


Abbas, however, disapproves of my idea of spending free time and still – yes, still, darned Velcro baby – hangs on me with all twenty fingers. No space to breathe, that’s how I feel time to time (which forces me to tears and than being upset about how silly I am).
On the other hand, I do enjoy the little hugs he gives me on occasion when he’s particularly happy to see me; usually due to me carrying a bottle of milk; and I do enjoy the cuddle as I know very well this won’t last. Soon in the stores – The Baby Who’s Ashamed of his Mother. But for now, now I am that Milk Goddess to him. And I will remain one for at least six more months.
I still would like to finish my blanket, though.
I mean, is it really that hard and psyché damaging to lay right next to me while I crochet a bit? Well, tell me, is it? I sing to him, talk to him, pass him toys, while trying not to entangle my index fingers in a ball of yarn. (Did I ever mention, how gorgeous the Fishermen’s Wool is? I’d just buy a whole room of them and sleep on them. Just like that. No need to crochet it. One day, when I am rich…)
Sometimes I would just needlessly rage on them kids, and than realize how stupid that is; sleep frustration and feeling pregnant even though I gave birth (now stop that thought, not weight wise, all right?!), like we never parted with Abbas, makes my nerves… melt away. Mostly, I can stop myself from being upright abusive (in a sense of being much harsher in requirements for a “clean” room, “well done” homework, or a “good enough” nap). On occasion, I do explode and insist on goals being met and after that getting frustrated when they aren’t – getting myself in a pretty loop, I can see here from perspective of a well-slept person now (very first night since birth my sticky baby slept from 9pm to 5*30am in his own bed, oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh!). But. That is really not a standard here. Mostly (they come at night, mostly) I am fine. Ask my daughter. Really.
My husband promised me to take me away for a day, after Abbas turns year and a half. I don’t think I will live up to that day in pure sanity, but OK. Effort is what counts.

So, Who’s Gonna Move with Me to Europe?

The end of summer is near, well, at least in Czech and such, not here – here we will enjoy insanely sunny weather for few more months. Even than, it will be sunny. Just not so baking-biscuits-on-a-car hot.
Abbas grew up in strength and voice, that’s for sure (alhamdulilah), went through two rounds of vaccinations already, I went through one attempt to make my husband aware of the risks of that, especially the recent link of MMR vaccine to autism; needless to say unsuccessfully.

1 Month, 1 Week, 1 Day Old

And some tummy time exercises. We still got no fancy blanket or pillow for that as my all attempts to order them online from nearby Mothercare failed in various stages. And hubby hates the shopping roundabout, so got to give it another shot before I chase him off to the Avenues.


Abbas doesn’t favour my attempts to let him stay on his belly so far and manages just few odd moments here and there – much more he prefers to be carried around on a shoulder and looking after our backs. Maybe he will grow up to be a bodyguard?
Dori is still fighting vast amounts of jealousy over the attention given to him, although she doesn’t mind our attention deficit as much as strangers, family and relatives melting over Abbas and letting her out of the picture – it’s hard on her the more that till now she was the princess in the spotlight. But equally she seems to love her new brother and care and defend him. I am hoping that the jealousy will go away soon.
Kuwait is starting to suck now as the heat reached it’s peak and that will last for several weeks, or at least two, three months, before (very) slowly dropping back to bearable levels. It’s 9am and 41 degrees of Celsius in shade now. I am quite sorry for all these people working outside these days, especially when dust storms come into the picture occasionally as well.