Letter to the Prime Minister

Dear Mr. Prime Minister (a.k.a. Your Highness Shaikh Nasser Al-Mohammad Al-Ahmad Al-Sabah),

I've heard good things about you and your character. I'm sure if I were to knew you better, I'd like you a lot.

I think you're quite an accomplished man; a worldly man, if I may. You speak several languages, you've lived in a lot of places. You stood for Kuwait through its harshest time. (Dude, wikipedia says you were the one who did "hunna ilkuwait" from Khafji for the first time. That is awesome!)

Shaikh Nasser, Kuwait was thrilled when you came into office. You were pegged a "reformer" and God knows how much this country needs a political savior.

We applauded you as you took an oath to uphold the constitution. We cringed as you faced a cow-suit crazy Parliament time and time again. We were as frustrated as you probably are at how stalled everything in Kuwait is.

Then things came up, like your failed cabinets. Five cabinets in four years?

Throughout the less than spectacular events, you continued to uphold the constitution and I in turn continued to give you the benefit of the doubt. I cheered you on.

But then MP Al-Molaifi brought up some questions about your Diwan's expenditures and wanted to question you. Instead of clearing your good name and answering the Parliament's questions, you took the less transparent route and sought to have the government resign.

Now the questions have come up a second time and again instead of clearing your name, you seem to favor resigning.

Dear Sir, if there's anything my short 25 years on this planet have taught me it's that running from your problems never works.

I understand that your political ambitions might be driving your "escape". If I could, I'd want to be Amir too, and a potential Amir cannot stand in parliament and be voted "down", believe me, I understand. (I also understand the crazy Ruling family politics involved.)

But you took an oath to uphold the constitution. The constitution says you can absolutely be questioned in parliament. Being a Prime Minister of Kuwait is a job and by constitution, you're accountable to the Kuwaiti people's representatives. Yes the parliament sucks and the MP's are dingbats; but you took an oath.

Your Highness Shaikh Nasser, I'm asking you to set a daring precedent, take the stand, clear your name and respect the contract between us.

Your loving daughter,
G.

P.S. I saw you once on a BBC program, I was probably seven or eight, and you were talking about the liberation and you said, "even the ducks were crying". Also, I'm very proud of you for losing the weight, yay health!

Tug of war: Alzheimer's vs. my memories

As I've grown older, my interest in my grandmother's lives has grown. I'm lucky to have been able to hear a lot of stories from both grandmothers before I lost them over the years.

My maternal grandmother passed away in 2006, having met two of my nephews and attended my brother's wedding.

My paternal grandmother faded slowly over the course of the past decade from Alzheimer's. Today, the disease has left her as helpless as a few month old baby; not aware of her surroundings and immobile.

I'm aware that she technically hasn't left us yet, but to me she has. Her body's still around to touch, kiss and talk to but she isn't.

It's ironic that of my two grandmothers, Alzheimer's took the strongest, most assertive matriarch. She was opinionated, capable, articulate, confident, and demanding of those around her. Even in her last lucid days, she couldn't stand having someone around to help her. To leave someone who took pride in doing everything herself helpless seems especially cruel.

The oldest of five sisters, she got married young, around 14 probably, to a cousin who wasn't much older. With him she moved to a desolate farm area outside Kuwait's walls. Her sisters talk of her year away as being the worst in her life. Soon after giving birth, her husband passed away. Within a few years she was married again to a childless widower in his late 50's probably (my grandfather) who was probably somewhat abusive. My grandfather passed away when the youngest of his seven children was barely a toddler. The second time she was a widowed she was in her late 30's or early 40's with eight children to care for.

She devoted her life to her children, neglecting family, friends, and almost all social obligations. When her children grew older, married, had several children and began moving away, she felt betrayed and voiced her feelings loudly.

Sometimes I wish she can see them now, huddled around her seemingly empty body, talking to her, massaging her hands, feeding her. Not a day goes by without at least two or three of her children coming to see her.

Unlike death, Alzheimer's takes a loved one away slooooooooowly and painfully. First, she was frustrated with her memory, then she was angry at us all the time, then she slowly stopped recognizing us, and now this lifeless yet familiar body has become my grandmother. I'm sorry, she's not. I work hard to remember as she was before she was stolen away by the disease. Remembering stories, talking to my great-Aunt's and my aunts and uncles to make sure that I continue to know her as she was.

As all of us are, my grandmother was a product of her time. Even with all her faults and flaws clear to me now, such as the crazy things she taught me about marriage and social standing, the strict rules she had set for herself and us, the way she chose to live her life as a victim, I still find her to be a remarkable woman.

I'm lucky to have grown up with her as a role model, because she really was a kick-ass woman. I'll admit that whenever my cousins tell me how much I remind them of her, I stand a little taller with pride.



This post has been brought to you by a PostSecret from this week:

To the sender I say, yes I was hurt and felt cheated when my grandmother forgot me; but I'll never forget her and I'll forever be grateful for her involvement in my life.

MIA

Where have I been?

Month-long trial at a company, we'll see how it goes...(2 weeks in)

Still freelancing.

Trying to have a social life.

Let's not forget its still human mating season. (and babies, and death)

Ilshoor shoorik ya yuba: Elections '08

Voting is a big responsibility. (Yes another political post.) Thus my dilemma...

I'm a reformed Islamist, I think that's the only way to label me. I grew up in a big Islamist home but have turned more "progressive"* (or as my mom would say I'm a left-leaning liberal) with every passing year.

I don't want Islamists to rule the Parliament. They're not transparent enough, the have fishy deals with the government, and are bed buddies with too many "breast-fed" bedouins** (say that five times fast). Also I don't see economic development as a major issue for them which I think needs to be a top priority.

I also don't want liberals to rule the Parliament. Although they are much more transparent than Islamists, their ranks include too many Kuwaiti bourgeoisie and they are somewhat out of touch with the people. The more power they have, the bolder the schism between 'within-the-wall Kuwaitis' and 'outside-of-the-wall Kuwaitis'. Another thing is that quite a few of them are too secular for me to be comfortable with.

My initial thoughts were that I'd give half of my four votes to liberals whom I believe share my priorities and the other two votes to either Islamists or independents. A talk with a friend who shares some of my religious/political ideas made me unsure.

"Our parent's generation has fought too hard for you to be supporting hardline liberals," she said. Good point.

In the 60's Kuwaiti women (within-the-walls) were mocked if they chose to cover their hair.
It's a different situation now, over half of Kuwaiti women wear hijab (I heard that somewhere...but I'm not sure how true that it is).

But isn't the pendulum swinging to the other side now? Liberalism is making a comeback. Islamists had their big-break in the 80's and 90's which also saw the death of liberalism in Kuwait. (Liberals were Arab nationalists, post-occupation Kuwait saw the tides turning on them. More like a Tsunami.)

Should I be helping the pendulum swing to a place I'm more comfortable with?

What would that mean on a ballot?

As a Muslim what would be the right thing to do? Vote Islamists although I feel like they've lost the essence of Islam and are power-hungry politicians (not all). Or vote liberal to teach the Islamists a lesson and give them time to restructure their priorities and platform issues; despite lacking morals (again, some not all!).

Decisions, decisions!








* I hate that word. "Progressive". It's so presumptuous.

** "Breast-fed" bedouins are those who are still suckling at the country's teat. And don't ever want to be weaned. Demands include violating diwaniyas, KD 50 allowance...etc... Not all are bedouins actually. (Btw..dissing bedou is my prerogative.)

Keep your chai, I want CHANGE

So I did end up going to a bunch of candidates who I'm definitely not supporting out of familial obligations. Fortunately, it hasn't killed me yet. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten around to visiting the people who I think I may want to vote for to make a decision.

I've been going around visiting family, looking at lists of names...but not really calling anyone because these aren't candidates I'm supporting. Am I being dishonest..?

Somewhat...I guess; but you know what, I'm going in the spirit of supporting family. So I don't feel horrible about it.

In time, when I've actually figured out who exactly I'm supporting, I hope to be able to go wherever I want. Apparently, its still early and people are still organizing themselves (although elections are less than five weeks away!).

Elections + small country + large families = confusing situation for voters.

You know you have siblings when...

1) You can't walk up the stairs with someone behind you without running and looking back.

2) You keep the remote control hidden while you're watching TV, and if you have to leave the living room for any reason you either hide it in a better place or take it with you.

3) Whenever your parent's call your name, you scream "It wasn't me!"

4) The home phone rings right next to you but you won't pick up because it's probably for someone else. (And if you do answer, you always say they're out...afterall if they wanted to be on the phone they should've picked it up themselves.)

5) The bumps on your head are a witness to the many times you were a moving target for whatever game they were playing.

6) You can keep embarrassing stories about each other from the public. You know enough that most of the time no one says anything because it's mutual assured destruction.

7) You find the most creative hiding spots; you know someone's going to snoop.

8) You can eavesdrop on conversations happening two floors down; potential blackmail material.

9) Self-defense classes? who needs those...you mean the rest of the population doesn't know that when you're being attacked you grab on tight and scream with all your might? You learned this before you learned to walk. (And you have the 'locking grip' where no one can take anything from your hands.)

10) You're very skeptical of requests like, "Put your hand over your face..." Your response is always "no way, get away from me..." a.k.a. "wa5er...yoooooma!"

Two boys, a toy store and a national eid

A few days ago, I was at Soug Sharg with TimTim,4, and Jooj,2; as we walked out of the arcades past the toy store the boys begin to beg to go in "to look at the toys only..." (Earlier that day, the boys had National and Liberation Days celebrations at their school and daycare).

Being their evil aunt, I pulled Jooji away and tried to coax TimTim with a "remember when I took you to the big toy store for Eid...? We'll come back when it's Eid to buy toys...today isn't Eid...yallah TimTim."

"Imbella! Ilyoum il3eed ilwa6ani!!" he countered. (Today's the national eid!)

You can't argue with that (or the ginormous puppy eyes). Off we went into the toy store.

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Kuwait celebrates its independence, national day, on February 25th and it's liberation from Saddam's occupation on the 26th.

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If the great weather doesn't get you in a festive mood, this definitely will:

Can you hear me now? Zing!

We're all at the maternity hospital with my sister. My sister in law, who has a six month old son, and me are in the room. A female relative in her early 40's, known for her crass nature, enters the room.

After greeting us all with kisses she settles in (and takes aim).

Relative to sister: Another boy! You'll have to try for a girl sometime soon. (Zing!)
Sister: Allah Kareem; the most important thing is that the baby's healthy al7amdilla.
Relative: No. You have to have a girl. You don't understand how different a daughter is.
(My sister gives me a look, I control my smiles.)

Relative then turns to sister in law: Your baby's how old now?
SIL: Six months.
Relative: Mashallah. You should get pregnant soon. (Zing!) It's better to have children close in age. And you have to have a girl. The house is full of boys, the need a baby girl.
SIL: Inshallah, I'd love a girl...but I don't know, I just went back to work...
Relative (interrupting): What are you waiting for?

I interrupt the conversation by offering some sticky sweet tiny caramel bar and coffee.
Relative (looks up at me): Have you gotten a job yet?
Me: Not yet. Allah Kareem.
Relative: You shouldn't have quit your job; it was a great job.
Me: It's all naseeb.
Relative: What do you have? You're not married. No children. And no job. (ZING!)

I don't respond. My sweet SIL starts talking about our cousin getting engaged diffusing the awkward situation.

The woman went from 0-60 in no time. She spent less than 10 minutes with us because her husband was waiting outside, yet managed to make everyone in the room feel bad in one way or another. That's what I call talent.

Welcome to the circus, Little Man!

Baby Foot
Originally uploaded by KamranM

My sister had her third son yesterday. I haven't seen him yet, since he was born in Al-Sabah's Maternity hospital and they don't allow "stranger" into the nursery. Other than that, the hospital isn't half as bad as the stories you hear.

Only the parents are allowed in the nursery apparently. My sister, who had a c-section yesterday morning, wasn't well enough to go see him, so I thought they'd at least let me go to take a picture for her. The nurse at the nursery wouldn't let me in and refused to take a picture herself (wasn't very compassionate of her).

I received a text message from my brother-in-law this morning. But was greeted by Timtim,4, with a "the doctor tore my Mommy's belly and pulled the baby out" as I walked into my parent's house later in the day. He also said that regardless of what his parents call the baby he's going to call him Bader.

Jooj, 2, who now became a middle-child, told me (at the top of his lungs) with a lot of conviction that baby was not a boy but a girl and he's gonna call her Mohammad. He's just beginning to understand gender and his confusion is cute.

Once she's discharged from the hospital, my sister's going to be moving back to my parent's home with her children and two maids (they're already there) for her 40 day nfas ("incubation period").

It's going to be loud, smelly and chaotic.

If anyone would like to join the circus this is your chance!

There's going to be 14 people including four children under the age of five living in my parents house sharing two television sets and one computer (the number does not include people working in the house).

Let's just say I'm glad I don't live in the same house (I live next door).