Tag: UK

… 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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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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Bulgarian Heaters

Indeed, and they seem to be favoured over the Chinese ones here. No blame, I have goose bombs whenever I read or hear Made in China unless it counts for more than few thousand years old; but Kuwaiti people seem to have this other obsession and that is “What is from Europe, is always best / most chic / most in / reliably working!”. Now, I can’t say it’s not, and in many cases it will still probably be better option over anything made in China in the recent years.
But when we were roaming the souks for an oil heater I was surprised by the “Bulgarian, Bulgarian, buy, buy!” attitude of some shop assistants, to be honest. When I was faced with the choice of Chinese heater vs. Bulgarian one, I was really surprised as both options seemed rather crazy to me – not to the others, though!
Well, we’ve got ourselves a small, portable (Bulgarian) heater now, which is used most of the day but mainly in our bedroom. So spoiled, we are now. The room temperature hits 20 degrees and we go all bonkers with pullovers, fluffy socks, hot teas and a heater turned on the higher level.



Over the day when hubby’s at work and kiddo at school I steal the small warmth provider for my room and tug in a blanket with green tea (or milk with coffee, formerly known as coffee with milk, but due to the small inhabitant prohibited as alcohol in Kuwait now, by my husband mainly) and a book. I’m getting much better with my speed of reading in English though, sadly.
Meaning I can read one book in a day – meaning I need a lot of books to keep myself busy and that’s a lot of trips to Virgin store and a lot of KDs spent on printed paper and all that hassle my beloved half hates so much. On the other hand I’m glad my English isn’t so rusty just yet, under the influence of arabized English of Kuwait and me being all but a good student.

Random evenings are now filled with either the classical heater-book-iPod-PC-TV laziness, or hussainiyah visits for religious lessons on the event of Ashura and eventually the whole month of Muharram. Dori loves it, not for the mourning, but for the fact that to keep her silent and busy she can borrow my old – and long time broken – Tamagotchi. Soon to be hers, as soon as my new toy comes!
Yes, I’m quite playful, sometimes. But the EMS from Japan is not cooperating with me, and with the sorry state of Kuwait postal service I’ll be glad to get it this year and uncut, ungutted and working, even. Hope never dies! Oh wait, was that love?
Nevermind, let’s hope my present to myself will arrive in tact and soon! Off to hussainiyah now.

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Let It Snow!

It kept on snowing throughout the night and this is what we have woken up into. It actually managed to survive the whole day, and some a bit snow-crazy english people took slides and went to try to slide on the poor grass in the park; when it didn’t go well, they just moved on the actual path and nicely slided it till ice for all the normal people who wanted to walk and not on the grass… Newcastle seems to go quite mad whenever any snow appears as it is not much common in here (maximally few days during the winter), so when the snow actually lands, all the families and kids and youth flood out of the homes and head towards all possible parks, green and flat areas and try to slide down, no matter how short, bumpy and green the thing is. That’s some spirit! (But I hear the grass crying, though.)

Heaton under Snow, Newcastle Upon Tyne

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