48 Hours of Fresh Air

Before moving to Kuwait, a teacher at Box Hill College told me that I would spend 90% of my time in Kuwait indoors.  I thought, “She doesn’t know me very well.”  Both Bob and I love fresh air and take every opportunity we can to be outside.  But my teacher friend was right!  The outdoors in Kuwait has not beckoned us often, in part because of the heat and in part because Kuwait is geared towards automobiles and shopping malls, with few sidewalks in our neighborhood.  (We DO live near the beach, where I enjoy a brisk walk a few mornings a week.)

Last week we discovered the true and beautiful out-of-doors in Kuwait.  First, we went north to the Mutlaa Ridge.  We hiked in the desert along the ridge, amazed at the elevation that we had not known existed in Kuwait.  A bonus was juggling with the small watermelon-like fruits we found on the way.

Second, we went south to Wafra Farms, where we had visited last year.  We recalled the hospitality of the man whose farm we happened upon who invited us into his Bedouin tent for tea and a tour of the grounds. 

Third, we went east to Al-Khairan, a resort area on the coast where some of our students have weekend chalets.  We found an isolated place on the beach to set up our tent, on the edge of a welcoming family’s property.  Then for 48 hours we enjoyed simply being outdoors.  Clear blue skies and sun by day with crisp air and a full moon at night—it doesn’t get any better than that.  Bob and our friend Sam found enough wood on the beach to make huge fires both nights.  We had a veritable feast cooked over the fire the first night, and on Night Two, which we hadn’t planned on (but couldn’t resist), we savored the little hummus and bread we had left as well as a cucumber, a tomato, and some fruit.  We played scrabble, read, napped, walked, and explored the sea.  We did what you do at night around a fire—conversed, made music, watched the flames, gazed at the stars.

We came home suntanned and happy to have soaked up two days’ worth of fresh air.  How great it was to discover and experience genuine out-of-doors pleasure in Kuwait.

Under Construction

Bob and I have this notion that construction projects follow us around. No matter where we live, or where we go on holiday, it seems there’s always a bulldozer, jackhammer, or power saw nearby. By nature, we both love silence, spending hours at a time without turning on the radio or CD player, but we now have a joke that we aren't able to sleep without the buzz of a jackhammer.

Not only the noise but also the rubble reminds us that our neighborhood is one big construction project. Like many streets in the neighborhood, the street in front of our spic and span apartment building has been torn up two times since we moved here a few months ago. Apparently, they are putting in water pipes so that all apartment buildings will have direct access instead of depending on the H2O that is pumped in daily by the noisy water trucks. But based on the number of times the streets have been dug up and then covered over only to be dug up again, they must keep getting things wrong. The first time our street was filled in, we got all excited, thinking the street would be paved any day. Now we realize that paving will likely happen long after we leave Kuwait.

In the meantime, we walk around our dusty neighborhood, dodging sand piles and trenches along the way. We trudge 50 meters through the sand to get a taxi from the main street each morning on our way to work. It’s like walking on the beach. I’ve taken to wearing flip flops through the sand, and then changing into my shoes or sandals in the taxi since there is no way to keep your shoes clean.

So it goes in this neighborhood and this country, which is under construction. It’s a little like life, I guess. My life anyway. I’m always working on something, and I don’t always get things right the first time around.