Tag Archives: tourists

(Quality) Family Time

As my parents’ departure closes upon us with a lightning speed, we’ve sped up a bit of the leisure-y tempo in exploring what Kuwait has to offer to a pair of foreigners a.k.a. tourists.
We’ve visited the awesome Beit Al Sadu (I’m saying awesome, because I had the urge to visit that place since ever I’ve got to know about it, and that’s quite long), with traditional Bedouin weaving, exposition, even a weaver (women, by the way!) present and kind enough to Dori to explain to her some basics of the complicated red weavings, including spinning own yarn from sheeps, goats and camels and offering us the possibility to enlist her in appropriate lessons for it. It’d be very good for her as she got zero tolerance and patience and handicrafts are just great for teaching that (in my opinion, at least), but she wouldn’t last long and we don’t have the resources at the moment anyways. Hi, Maryam.
But maybe more than the flickery interest of my daughter in the sadu techniques, I would love to give it a try one day. Since I’ve gone through felting, needle and wet, and now crochet and even basic knit (Thanks, mom! Finally I get the two needle crochet-like craft.), weaving, and on top of it traditional Kuwaiti style, would be a great addition to it. One day, without belly. Perhaps.
We’ve visited National Museum today as well, with a little dizzying experience for me in the planetarium, but hey, how fantastic it is to watch stuff about universe. My favourites are always black holes. Fascinating stuff, really. No sarcasm intended.
Abbas was difficult as always and made my husband miserable till we reached our usual Tuesday lunch at my in laws, where he literally adores the garden space, running around, watching chickens and playing football and handball. Though his cousin made it a little miserable for him today, as he’s a little shy boy and doesn’t like to fight for toys. Yet. He will be taught, soon. I promise.
I’ve had camera on my hands and plenty of time, so I’ve snapped away a huge bunch of completely useless pictures (nearly 6GB of them on my memory card, but my excuse is that RAW takes well over 20MB per picture), but some came out nice, so let the photo spam begin.
The only downfall of this week is that my parents leave on Friday already, and top that around 1 am, so I won’t be able to even go with them to the airport. Kids sleeping at home alone, (=) fires, knives, electricity, bleeding noses and worse, you know that stuff.
Only two days left than; my daughter is going to be direly disappointed and already slacking at school due to her granddad and grandma being here and seeing us after a year, she’s got exams next week. Disaster approaching for sure, I’m telling you.
And top to that, we got not so joyful news at the last ultrasound check for Maryam, though not entirely bad either, true. At least she started to finally chubby up a bit, for I was scolded that she’s too small for dates before.

 

Springlicious

Well, this is about to be the end of my visit of Czech, I managed – under a handful of stress – to get the stamping done with the last one happening like in an American movie, in the last minutes possible. But done, nevertheless. I have prayed, for the first time in my life, for the taxi driver I’ve picked up on Wenceslas Square to actually behave like a taxi driver – cut in front of others, run over slow walking people, go against the flow so to say, because I was in a dire hurry to get to the embassy before the counsellor casually walks out for the Friday night and leaves me with desperation and things undone standing in front of the closed building. I assume he understood my time limits from me nervously checking my Blackberry every 30 seconds for time, especially when we got stuck in a traffic jam (all right, he didn’t go over the walk path in that case), but he cut the road to the embassy building and went in wrong direction and over red lights just to get there. I swallowed my heart by then, but hey – the stamp is there, on the list. He also made me say “Sweet Jesus” after asking for the fare money ’cause he honestly and completely truly ripped the feathers of my chicken butt (almost 2 KWD a kilometre). He laughed, probably didn’t think a Muslim girl would say that.
Today I’ve finally got some time to get out on the well known clear and fresh air of the region I’m residing in, and snap some very quick pictures on the walk.
It’s right after winter so the nature is defrosting with occasional frost over the night still and some hoarfrost over here and there, but the smell indicates the spring coming, unstoppably.
Me and my mum strolled over the routes we used to take when I was younger, and reminisced a little, and wondered how much things changed in the past few years I haven’t been around the Czech Highlands much. Trees torn down for wood and not replaced, fields widened, roads disappeared, water gone dark and dirty from seasoning tourists swimming all pickled in creams and factors and perfumes, letting the water wash it off and keep it. From azure blue, transparent water in a past quarry I used to swim almost alone years ago, to dark blue, petroleum reminding liquid I wouldn’t touch with my bare foot now. God knows, it might dissolve me. Tax for civilization (read: city people and their trendy magazines) discovering the odds and ends only few kids and villagers used to know about in here.


The castle and museum in Kamenice nad Lipou, Czech Republic

In the fields beyond the little town

The long abandoned (and tourist found) flooded granite quarry

Tomorrow by afternoon I’ll be boarding a plane to Dubai again and hopefully arrive safely, as well on the second flight to Kuwait City. It’s spring there too, all right, with about 20 degrees difference between here and there, so lets see – it took me just a bit to get accustomed to the cold breeze in here again; but I’m afraid that as a winter lover I’ll have it harder getting back to the heat rails.
But hubby mentioned some trip to the sea so maybe I’ll just drop the heats behind my back and enjoy the endless blue amounts of salty water. We’ll see.


Also, I would like to thank to Míša a.k.a. Velchi for her superb hospitality and food and roof she’d share with me during my struggles in the stamp war, Prague fighting line. Delicious soup and scones and fun chat, thanks a lot! Hope to meet you again :)