“just thinkin’ out loud…”

One of the main reasons I started this blog was to talk about my trip through Kuwait, Jordan, the West Bank (Palestine) and Israel [for the record, I'm still not done typing everything up and publishing it].  Lately, though, the blog has taken a deep dive into the tepid cesspool of crass political commentary.  Funny how priorities change like that…I’m still planning on finishing my writeup of the trip.  Not in the least because, hey, you gotta come up from the depths of the tepid cesspool for a breath of air every now and then (real life notwithstanding).  I also owe FoEME (Jordan) my notes from our conversations and brainstorming at the ‘Amman office.

However, the title of the blog itself hints at a different purpose.  When I started this blog, I also promised myself that I would use it as an outlet for my poetry.  That’s been a difficult promise to fulfill. 

Travelers checks and overseas financial security

Don’t use ‘em.

That’s right.  Use cash instead.  Just take care with your money.  Keep it on you at all times.  The extra insurance of lost or stolen cash is *not* worth the hassle.

“But just what is the hassle?” You might ask.  An excellent question…

Ungodly Hours

…sometime so early that it still feels late…

I soon learned that I could get a nice, strong cross-draft going in my room by opening up both sets of windows during the night.  The downside was, this made all those outside noises louder.  Traffic blairs at all hours.  But even that fades into background noise, unlike my first up-close experience with the Calls to Prayer.

Working Class Arabs

06/22/08

I arrived in Jordan late — at around midnight.  I stepped off the plane, saying goodbye to my plush accommodations of comfortable, roomy seating, gourmet meals, and attentive and plentiful flight attendants.  There was also no recognizable air conditioning in the airport, but it didn’t need it.  The air, although a bit more humid, is much cooler here.  Trees actually dot the countryside.  But the highlight?  Working class Arabs.  Everywhere.  That’s right, folks, the people who work in Jordanian airports are, for the most part, actually Jordanian.  Take that, Kuwait!

Reading Lolita in Tehran…in Kuwait…

On one of our last days in Kuwait, we went out to a (or the) main market place.  It’s basically a web of pedestrian-only streets lined with open shops and booths selling almost any and every type of thing people might ordinarily want to buy (and a few things that people might NOT want to ordinarily buy…).  It was definitely a highlight of my time in Kuwait, and the reason has absolutely nothing to do with what’s for sale.

don’t (…or do) judge a nation by its airport security, pt. 1

Just one more note about privilege — my sister-in-law accompanied me past security in the Kuwaiti airport in June, on my way to Jordan.  It was an interesting circumstance, because technically she wasn’t supposed to do go through security with me.  But she did.  Several times.

behind every fortune…

You know how that saying goes?  Well, I promised [myself] I wouldn’t touch on the [more than questionable] origins of my brother’s father in law’s newly-amassed fortune.  Consider that promise thoroughly broken.  Click here if you have trouble downloading…

“Kuwait: where your car is conveniently your coffin”

1980s Caprice Classic smashed sideways into a light pole on Expressway 30 near Ali Sabah Al Salem, May 12 2005

There were two times during my trip through the middle east when I actually felt unsafe.  Being on or around a road in Kuwait was one of them.  Don’t drive or ride passenger in a car in Kuwait.  It’s tantamount to attempted suicide.  Apparently Kuwait has one of the highest motor vehicle mortality rates in the world.

flattery is the best form of imitation

isn’t that how the saying goes?  at any rate, flattery buys me more time while i get my second post together, which will be up by the end of the week.  perhaps even with pictures added.  for the later post, that depends on whether someone gets me the trip pictures she promised…

triangulation

Yak Skiing

Here’s a blog from someone I met in the Middle East who ended up being an impromptu travel companion for quite some time.  I think it’s safe to say we’re friends now.  I know details about her that she probably doesn’t want me to share publicly, and I’m pretty sure she knows stuff about me that I don’t want her to share publicly.  That’s the definition of a friend, right?

Regardless, the main point is that her writing is much more interesting than mine, it has pictures, and she’s shared some of our collective meanderings through the West Bank and Israel already.  It also happens to buy me some time before I type up and post my next journal entries.