home

tonight i fly home--horray! kuwait's been great but i'm definitely ready to come home to the land of cheap coffee (and bollo's, of course!), family and friends. shukran (thanks in arabic) for all your emails, skype calls, and love this summer. i cannot wait to see you!

balconies

there's two downsides to vacationing (or holiday as they say over here) in cyprus alone. the first, no one to apply sunblock to your back (and my double-jointed arms still couldn't do the job) and the second, there's no one else in the room when you lock yourself out on the balcony. lets start with number two. 

for a budget hotel, i had a pretty sweet room, and view of the sea (picture is a view from balcony). before bed each night i'd sit on the balcony for a few minutes. logically, of course, i would shut the sliding glass door all the way. logically, of course, this led to me locking myself out. i couldn't have picked a better time: 11 pm on a tuesday. what to do? option one--spend the night on the balcony,  but then what in the morning? option two--climb over, and around the building i might add, to my neighbor's balcony. i chose option two. 

i am a bit clumsy, if you didn't know. this makes my little journey around the third story of a building all the more scary. i took a few deep breaths, and around i went. success. but now i found myself on my neighbor's balcony. no idea who these people are. i knocked softly. no answer. knocked harder. a man in his late 60s approached the door. i'd be a bit freaked out too--someone appearing on my balcony so late in the evening. i tried to explain to him i locked myself out and needed to come through his room. problem was, he only spoke greek, and i, only english. through a series of hand gestures i somehow convinced the nice man to let me in. 

crisis averted? well, not quite. so then i ventured down to the reception, told the attendant what happened. surely he has a master key. problem number two--when i locked my door i left the key in the door (translation: his master key won't work.) now what? knock on the neighbor's door again, climb to my balcony, and attempt to break into my room. i let him do this solo. after a few minutes, successful break in. 

i'd like to say i'm shocked by these chain of events, but i'm not. i'm just impressed with myself i didn't fall, especially after two glasses of wine. 

finished

i am done. school finished yesterday (here's a picture from class),  headed to cyprus tomorrow, and will be stateside in ten days. i'm having flashbacks of returning from oakland--trying to explain an experience that really, well, cannot be explained. it must be experienced. in short, kuwait has taught me this: normal is relative. we truly are products of our environment! perhaps as a graduate student in sociology i should have already known this. and i did,  intuitively, but not personally. it's similar to my experiences living in oakland: it's one thing to study poor people (as sociologists love to do), it's a completely different experience to live and work with poor people. 

ethnocentrism is the fancy sociological term which means the tendency to view, experience and evaluate the world from one's own cultural perspective. in other words, conceptions of right, wrong, and normal are socially and culturally constructed: they are relative, and thus, are not consistent across all cultures. but...but... some of you may be saying. some things are just wrong and others are just right. perhaps. 

after deciding to come to kuwait this summer the initial question i received from most was this: are you going to have to cover (i.e. wear a hijab)? nothing wrong with the question. but why was it even a question? because it's not normal (and we can debate that meaning some other time) for women in the united states to cover. admittedly when i first arrived in kuwait i probably stared a bit too much, especially at women who were fully covered wearing a burka. but now, i pass them just about everyday and don't look twice. it's become normal. 

i leave you with this: "travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime."- mark twain

oppressed?

tuesday night the women meet. they number about twenty. they convene in the basement of one woman's house and discuss  relevant issues, islam, etc . this tuesday was special: it was imam husain's birthday (the grandson of the prophet muhammed) and we celebrated. different women read in both arabic and english stories about imam husain's birth, life, and death. at designated points throughout the reading we threw candy to celebrate his life (insert chaos of halloween and children scavaging for as much candy as possible.) after the meeting, there was, of course, more food. 

earlier in the evening, amnah (my student who i went to the meeting with), introduced me to her friends as her anthropology professor (good thing i was wearing the shortest skirt i have in kuwait--to my knees--and hadn't had time to change prior to the meeting.) many women joked with me, "i hope you're not taking notes or observing us." afterall, no one likes to be a subject. 

after the meeting i found myself chatting in a corner with amnah. i just came out with it. i said, "do you know that a lot of people in the united states would look at this group of women and see them as oppressed?" (all women were wearing at least a hijab and many wore an abaya--i was the only "non-covered" woman there.) amnah then made an excellent point: in the west we always talk about it doesn't matter what you wear (if women chose to dress scantily clad or whatever), but all of a sudden when the women cover it matters--what a contradiction! in kuwait most women chose to cover; in other words, its not required. i asked amnah if she ever thought of taking off her hijab. she said she did. she somewhat misses the attention she received when she didn't cover ( if a woman wears a hijab she also is covered from wrist to ankle). but, most importantly, she tells me, she wears it because she wants to show people its no indication of her intelligence or ability. 

her eyes teared up. "i hate it. i hate that people think that because i wear a hijab i am stupid, or i am naieve, or that i won't get certain jokes or don't listen to certain music. it's not true." i responded, "yeah, it's almost like the scarf is symbolic for how people then perceive your life: sheltered, restricted, covered." and this is exactly why amnah refuses to take off her scarf. 

and so, just as we do not like to be judged on our appearance, neither do women in kuwait. are some women oppressed here? without a doubt. but i'm not so sure, anymore, its much different than anywhere else. 

today

eighteen years ago today iraq invaded kuwait. remnants of the invasion still exist--abandoned buildings, photographs of destruction, liberation tower (signifying the end of iraqi occupation--photo), and a country of people who lived through unimaginable war. 

my favorite part about kuwait--the people. well, there is one in particular: her name is mona. i ask mona questions about islam, kuwaiti history and the infiltration of american culture and she asks me why people in america live in self-created prisons, do not know their neighbors/family, and work such long hours. 

today mona and i went to the gillies of kuwait for some delicious lentil soup. driving to lunch we passed another fast food chain, this time mcdonald's, with prime real estate overlooking the gulf. i told mona i am used to really nice restaurants on the water, not mcdonald's. fast food is everywhere in kuwait. i asked mona when the fast food infiltration began--pre or post war.  she thought for a second, and said aloud, "well the invasion was august 2, 1990 and i think it was after that." august 2--that's today. 

conversation shifted. i asked mona if she minded telling me why her family stayed through the invasion when so many left. mona is palistinean. she told me what's the difference: war there, war in kuwait. why leave my home here? what can i say to that? i then asked her about the overall sentiment of kuwait when saddam was killed. her response, "why did the americans decide?" what you may also not know is saddam was killed on the eve of one of the most important muslim holidays, eid ul-adha.

the obvious question, are things better? i don't think anyone would argue the occupation had to end. perhaps the way it did and who decided is up for debate. 

workers rights

check out this article. i will not comment on a public blog about this--i could get myself in trouble. you probably know how i feel about the situation though. (fyi: 1 KD = $3.78)

here's other articles about the situation:

kuwait times

middle east times

gender

well it's about time. i bet you thought this was going to be one of my first posts--me too. but this whole gender thing isn't so simple.

last night as i was laying in bed  trying to fall asleep this is what i thought about: how can i most accurately convey how gender operates in kuwait (isn't that what you think about before you fall asleep?). the closest, albeit rough, parallel i came up with was de jure and de facto segregation. if you need a little civil rights history brush up, de jure segregation was segregation by law (separate water fountains, bathrooms, schools, etc.) after de jure segregation was outlawed a new form of segregation emerged; this was de facto. while de facto segregation is not ordained by law it still occurs in practice (generally racially homogenous schools, neighborhoods, etc.). what we have in kuwait is de jure segregation, in the united states, de facto. 

lets talk about kuwait first. gender segregation is ordained by law. i teach an all female class not because no male students wanted to enroll but because the university must adhere to the law that does not prohibit teaching co-ed classes (unless there's a divider separating male/female students.)  in kuwait there are also gender segregated spaces for saloons (which are super-popular), dining facilities, and some apartment complexes.  some, not all, women here wear  a hijab (head scarf) or a burka (full black outfit covering the body, head, and face.) some men wear dishdashas (long white robes). many wear neither. 

after six brief weeks in kuwait, i haven't arrived at any grand conclusions (nor would it probably be fair to do so.) again, me fumbling for words to describe something so complicated, it's just as if in kuwait, women know their place and men know theirs. 

ok, united states, you're up next. we have all these anti-discrimination laws and such which supposedly protect us from a lot of the stuff i'm referencing about kuwait. it's illegal to discriminate on the basis of gender in the us, not in kuwait. but, brace yourself, gender discrimination still occurs in the us! despite the equal pay act of 1963 white women make about 75 cents for every dollar a white man makes for the exact same job (and if you're a black or latino woman you make even less!). my students in kuwait couldn't believe this--in the united states, really? yep. 

which is better? i don't know. is it better to not be permitted to certain spaces solely based on gender or to have the illusion you have equal opportunity when in fact you don't? 

kuwait is changing though. women are breaking out of stereotypical feminine roles, challenging spaces, and demanding equality. and, shhhh, i think i've even met some feminists too. 

(below is a sign posted around campus from the anti-segregation committee).

israel-palestine

i raised my arms, shielded my face and exclaimed, "don't hurt me." they laughed. 

the topic in class today: marriage and the family. we discussed the differences between endogamy (marrying within your own race, class, religion, etc) and exogamy (marrying outside.) today was an especially tangental day for class discussion. i didn't help the matter any. in giving an example of exogamy i said, its like if i were to marry a muslim man. good one meredith. 

some of the students in the class already knew i was a christian, that's why this example semi-worked. others found out today. then somehow discussion shifted to what my family would think of such a marriage (your family's approval for marriage in kuwait is a necessity and not always easy to come by.) i said they would probably be alright with it. "but you're christian, ms. meredith." i replied, "yeah, but my family isn't." "oh, well then what are they?" another asked. okay, decision time. take the p.c. route or the truth. i went with the truth. 

so, my dad's family is actually jewish. and that is when i raised my arms, shielded my face and exclaimed, "don't hurt me." the whole class laughed. so you are christian but your dad's family and heritage are jewish? correct. and now you are probably thinking, "and you are teaching in a muslim country?" also correct. 

in case you didn't know the battle between israel and palestine is a big deal in this part of the world. there's a fair number of palestinians in kuwait and some in my class. while being jewish should not be confused with being israeli, it certainly isn't the other side either. (as a brief aside: i know most of you reading this live in the united states. and the us unswervingly supports israel in this conflict. but there's another side that i've learned about this summer. i'd really encourage you to do the same; it's not all as the media says. shocker.)

so why then did i say it? because i had to. i think my students know me fairly well by now. they hopefully know i respect their culture and religion and enjoy their company. but they need to see the other side. we all do! i am not israeli, or some may say not even truly jewish, but in some respect i am someone different. if you like, it's a little application of a social psychological principle called the contact hypothesis (stereotypes and prejudice decrease with contact. when we get to know people our assumptions about people "like them" change.) and you know what? nothing happened. we have reached a point, i believe, where we know one another well enough to be able to recognize our differences. and i think we're all ok with that. 

*disclaimer: i'm not saying since i'm jewish i side with israel. thank you. 

people

i think that's my favorite part about traveling. i enjoy a beautiful beach or a nice hike just about as much as anyone (and surprisingly found out i actually like historical stuff too-i.e. egypt), but i enjoy people more. i'm afraid that when most of us travel we do so in seclusion. we may travel with our friends or family, but rarely do we engage in meaningful conversation with others, especially locals. but the middle east is a culture of hospitality, not a culture of isolation so many of us are familiar with. 

neil and i just finished having turkish coffee (which i like to describe as espresso on steroids) with our new friend faisal. apparently the airport in luxor isn't too busy at 3 am, when we were scheduled to fly back  from egypt to kuwait. so there we were in an empty airport trying to keep our eyes open. then this tall, thin man takes a seat next to us. i'm not even sure how the conversation began but it lasted a good 90 minutes. as we boarded the plane we took our respective seats (neil and i in front because we're americans--read the airport post for more info on that) we agreed to meet after the flight and share a taxi home. 

i know some of you are thinking, what!? you just met this man and now you are going to share a taxi with him at 6 am? and then you are telling me that you just had this same man over to your apartment for coffee? have you lost your mind!? perhaps. 

coffee was great. faisal is quite the chatter, eager to share with neil and i about his family, his dreams, his experiences. in the midst of conversation i brought up the fact that people in the united states would think we're crazy for doing this. faisal agreed. 

but here's the thing. we all complain about our 'busy lives' and yet we never slow down. this is where the united states definitely has it backwards. we probably haven't even had coffee with the person who lives next door. 

airports

love to travel. hate to get there. our recent trip to luxor, egypt proved no exception. our flight out was scheduled for a few minutes past midnight. we were in the air a few minutes after one a.m. not too shabby. but lets talk about what happened between our departure for the airport and our eventual arrival in luxor...

neil and i decided it'd be good to leave the hotel around 9 pm. if you know me that means 9 pm, maybe even 8:59 pm, but definitely not 9:01 pm. neil is learning this, slowly. we hailed a cab and made a deal to travel to the airport for a fee of 2.5 KD (around $8.50; there's no official meters in taxi's-just negotiation.) the roads are crowded as usual. and then we pull of at an exit. what!? oh, only to fill up with some gas, of course (you'll be happy to know the driver filled his tank for 2.5 KD.) ok, back on the road. i'm getting ancy. it's almost 10 pm. i hate to be late. signs for the airport are visible. i settle down a bit. we turn into the airport and then a standstill. here we go again. luckily, it takes only a few minutes--the apparent problem--only one entrance into the parking lot. finally inside. 

kuwait's airport is well, to put it politely, could probably use some help from you industrial and human factors engineers. it is inefficient, at best. pretty sure neil and i had our luggage scanned about five times. also pretty sure at none of those times was the worker actually checking the monitor to scan the luggage. we made it through, finally. and then we waited. waited some more. then, a mad dash. 

apparently our gate was moved. this also meant luggage screening number six. ok, fine. we are getting on the plane now. through the gate onto what, that's not a plane, it's a bus. so now we have to be transported via bus to the actual airplane. for most people this would not be a big deal. for me it was a bit uncomfortable. i was one of about three women on the booked flight, and definitely the only western woman. where should i sit on the bus? how do i position myself to not bump into men? to not be offensive? in the back, of course. 

finally, i see it. the airplane in all its gloriousness. neil and i were previously re-seated when we checked in to row 4. i thought nothing of it at the time only to be informed on our flight back to kuwait the reason for our prime seating...we're americans! i began to cry. why exactly, i still cannot explain.  i wrote this in my journal about the whole experience: "i am not sure why it upset me so much but it did. maybe its the assumption that my life is more valuable because of where i come from or maybe its the idea i come from a country people don't want to mess with." 

we arrived safely in luxor, egypt to go through the joy which all you fellow world-travelers know as customs. we were finally picked up by ali, our little tour-guide, hotel worker, smooth talking hustler. we finally arrived. 

no, i haven't forgotten about the blog :). i know it's been almost a week since i posted. neil and i just visited egypt this past weekend so i'm trying to catch up on work, life, sleep, etc. hope to post some fun stories from our trip in the next few days.

four times

four. that's how many times larger the average carbon footprint of a kuwaiti is than an american! and lets be honest, it's not like americans are world-wide environmental leaders. the only difference is kuwait's small population (3.5 million) makes such a footprint less impactful, relatively speaking.  

i don't know why i'm shocked. i shouldn't be. gas is cheap, people drive suv's (every night men are employed to hose sand off the suv's.) each item of produce at the grocery is bagged separately. to-go cups are automatically given at coffee shops. i have yet to see recycling for plastic although everyone drinks bottled water. recycling for other products is not much better. people litter as if the street is their trash can. 

perhaps that's why when i see graffiti like this my heart rejoices. 

 

enfj

(be forewarned this entry is a bit more "cheer up emo kid")


enfj. yep, that's me. well, according to the myers-briggs type indicator it is. who knows how much stock we should actually put into these sorts of tests that tell us who we are and what we should be doing in life. but the 'e' stands for extraverted and i know that part is true.

that 'e' part is actually probably one of the most difficult things about being in kuwait (or any new place for that matter.) being extraverted means not only do i enjoy life best when i spend it with others, but that my energy actually comes from it. it is currently saturday at 6 pm and i have not left my apartment. i think my skin is crawling. right next door is neil who is happily journaling, reading, blogging, and doing other miscelaneous tasks. i just stopped by about an hour ago and neil looked at his watch in disbelief at where the day had gone. i looked at mine and wondered how much more was left.


i am enjoying kuwait, don't misunderstand me. the combination of the stifling heat, loneliness, and procrastination on prelims/dissertation just isn't the best combination sometimes. its days like this i wish i were an introvert.

coffee

its been a sad month in my life. in addition to coping with my bollo's withdrawal i have resorted to drinking instant coffee. sick, i know! perhaps this is a true mark of an addict, willing to feed her habit any way she can. my apartment is spacious, nicely decorated, and comfy but there's one thing missing: a coffee maker (ugh, i knew i should have packed my french press. yes, i seriously was planning on it.) so my morning coffee fix now consists of some maxwell house grounds, a little hot water, splenda, and some heat-treated milk. tastes about as good as it sounds. 

my only reprieve is that coffee shops are about as common as malls around here (translation: at least one per block.) there's no drip coffee like we're used to in the states. regular coffee is an americano. columbus cafe calls regular coffee 'american coffee.' i find this humorous (columbus cafe, american coffee...you following?)

i spend most afternoons in a coffee shop. not much has changed in that regard. i probably spend equally as much time observing as i do attempting work. so for all you coffee shop kids out there, here's some things i've observed.

1. most coffee chains are from the united states or canada. almost all coffee shops are chains. starbucks wins. 

2. there is little/no fair trade or organic coffee movement here. one coffee shop (costa coffee) uses rainforest alliance coffee but doesn't advertise. 

3. no one drinks straight coffee. frozen drinks are the most popular (i guess this makes sense given the heat.) 

4. most coffee shops put your beverage in a to-go cup. there's no mug option. 

5. customers leave their empty cups on the table. an employee cleans up (not unique to coffee shops though.)

6. the artificial sweetener of choice is sweet-n-low not splenda. 

7. there's a smoking section in coffee shops. 

8. no free internet. 

9. you must ask for milk. it's too hot to keep it on the counter. 

10. coffee is expensive! anywhere between $4-$7 per beverage. 

for those of you in the 'burg please patronize bollo's for me. i miss it. 

band-aids

 "you see this band-aid right here? you see how it is fleshed colored and just happens to match my skin? well this is an example of what we call white privilege." 

we've finally gotten to the good stuff in class. the stuff most people find depressing. the stuff i love. you know, social inequality, oppression, privilege and the like. yesterday we talked about privilege. privilege is defined as unearned favor one group has over another. the thing with privilege is it's unearned. that means it's not your fault. guilt is not productive. what you do with your privilege, however, is your responsibility. ok, clearly a tangible example was needed. 

then i remembered my toe. number 46 in peggy mcintosh's white privilege checklist: i can chose blemish cover or bandages in 'flesh' color and have them more or less match my skin. the desks in the classroom are light colored wood contrasted with black metal (or something.) "you see, if i had darker skin a band-aid on my skin would look more like this." a student responded, "but that's not fair. why should it match only your skin?" exactly! 

and there it was, my little soap box. i stepped right up and began sharing that some of my african-american friends will be followed in stores only because they're african american. the cashier won't place money in their hands because they don't want to touch them. and then it was onto the fact that in the united states women only make about three-quarters as much as men for the exact same job (and that's for white women; it decreases with african-americans and latinos.) initial class response:"really? i would have never thought that still happens in the united states." 

sometimes i'm not sure what my role is here. instructor of cultural anthropology or demistifier of american equality. 

28

nope. never would have imagined it. when i was a kid i thought 28 meant marriage, a house, and possibly a child (please note i had no visions of work, even as a child.) what it means is graduate school, coffee shops, and a summer in kuwait. 

birthday number 28 began the evening before out with three of my students (two marayams and amnah.) first stop, the souk (a market where you can buy more traditional kuwaiti goods.) good thing i was with some ladies who are skilled in bargaining. i walked away with some muslim prayer beads and a traditional dress kuwaiti women wear to weddings. sweet. from the souk it  was off to the mall (do you see a trend here?), but not without a little detour. during the detour we passed marayam's house. i wasn't sure which house was hers so i decided to ask. marayam responded, "there on the left." my immediate response, "all of it?" the whole car erupted in laughter. yes meredith, all of it! i quickly tried to correct my err and said i know some people live in flats so i wasn't sure if you were showing us the building or your house. oh, make no mistake, it was the entire house. i'm guessing 6,000 square feet. minimum. 

kuwait should not merely be known for its oil. it should be known for its malls. they're on every block and i'm not exaggerating. our mall of choice for the evening, the mall to be seen at in kuwait, the avenues (once completed the avenues will be over 577,000 square feet with over 15 starbucks alone!) some of you have asked me if i think i could ever live in kuwait long-term. i think so, assuming i could find some alternative source of entertainment besides conspicuous consumption.

 

dinner was yummy. spending time with the girls was even better. who knows, maybe i'll spend number 29 in kuwait too. 

the nod

i just got it. i was out for a run on the boardwalk and there it was again. the nod. i've received the nod in the coffee shop, grocery store, and mall. it's the "hey, you're familiar nod." not familiar as in i know you from somewhere, but more of the you aren't from around here either nod. but the nod isn't unique to kuwait. the nod is cross-cultural and normally occurs in situations when one finds themselves in unfamiliar territory (or so it appears.)

if you want to get all academic about it it's called homophily (you can even check out this great book all about it.) essentially, most people like situations and faces that are familiar to them. the thing is we normally don't notice this since most people around us are similar. it's when we're around others that don't resemble us racially, culturally, gender etc., that we become congnizant of said difference. hence, the nod. the end.


(here's a few pics for those not on facebook. we took a little trip to the desert today. right behind me is the boarder to iraq. apparently it was too hot for the camels today too.)

sorry to disappoint

it's just not that different in kuwait. today i told neil i just didn't feel like blogging much lately (you may have noticed.) his response, there's really nothing to blog about. that's the truth. i know there's some biggies i haven't touched yet, and don't worry, i will. but the truth is life here is no different than life where you are. 

the other night was movie night. how fitting the movie of choice was "syriana." i know we all don't believe everything the media tells us, but if we did, here are some of the messages we would receive from syriana: all  muslim women wear a burka and walk five feet behind men,  all muslim men wear dishdasha's, the persian gulf is a mass of undistinguishable countries, muslims are religious fanatics, the middle east is not modernized. in other words, the opposite of the united states. 

the longer i am in kuwait the more i'm convinced it's the same. different geography, different religion, different politics, same human experience. in class today we talked about how language helps us understand cultures. i decided to "go there" and brought up a study that found israeli students who learned arabic had more favorable attitudes towards arabs than those who did not learn arabic. makes sense, right? did you know the united states is the only country in the world where you can receive a college diploma and not learn another language? you connect the dots. 

driving

remember when you first got your driver's license and your friends would say things like, "stop signs with white outlines are optional," and for the geometry lovers, "stop signs shaped like octagons are also optional"? if you lived in kuwait those little jokes wouldn't apply. first, there are very few stop signs. second, stop signs are always optional.

every day i risk my life, and not in the way you may think. crossing the street. where few stop signs abound, traffic circles abound all the more (please don't be fooled, there are four-way intersections, like the one by my apartment that have neither.) seem like a good substitution? wrong again. traffic circles are tricky, especially when traffic lanes are obsolete.

imagine this. you are walking home from school in at least 110 degree heat (neil likes to remind me we're in the desert and this should come as no surprise. it doesn't, but it's still hot.) you have just passed the kuwait karate federation, the landmark which signifies the end is in sight. and then you hit it. that intersection with no stop signs, no traffic circles, and cars coming from literally every direction. who has the right of way? no one? every one? surely not the pedestrian. you wait on the corner. a taxi honks asking if you need a ride. you think, "yeah, across the street." finally, a break in traffic. there's your chance. you're about to go for it. then what!? where did that car come from? still on the corner. waiting.

drivers in kuwait are acutally quite good. not in the organized two-lane fashion we all may be used to, but in the, how are there not more accidents kind of way. apparently one explanation for aforementioned driving is something called wasta, or influence. please remember kuwait is an extremely rich country. rich in a way i think few of us, myself included, can really understand. for starters, kuwait has oil (which makes gas about 0.85 cents/gallon!) so, wasta, i guess it works similarly across the board. people with power and money get things. in kuwait one of those things is a driver's license. no questions asked, no test required.

the whole being rich thing also means people drive ridiculously expensive cars. ridiculously fast. i've seen about five honda's here, no joke. it's brand new bmw, jaguar, mercedes, and land rover's galore (ugh, i have never seen so many suv's!) and that's just the low to moderate end. so, right now i'm thinking about walking home. only problem is i'll have to face everything i just told you about.

2Pac

2Pac is alive! i swear. i saw him last night at marina mall. i bet no one thought he'd be hiding out in kuwait. alright, so maybe 2Pac really is dead (RIP 2Pac), but he lives on in kuwait. last night neil and i were at the mall (yes, my dream, friday night at the mall--this shall be discussed in a later post) and out walks 2Pac and his entourage from the virgin mega store. 2Pac was just as i remembered- bandana tied around his bald head, jewelry, jersey (someone should have reminded 2Pac he represented oakland, not san fran, since he was wearing the wrong team jersey). he was a little shorter and took out the nose ring, but i still knew it was him. 

hip hop is global. i know this. i have even read this book all about it. but when i see hip hop culture in kuwait it fascinates me. there's a group of guys who congregate along the gulf showing off their nice purple, orange, and green low riders. there's another group who breakdances beside the skate park. there's this store, homies. and of course, there's 2Pac. i'm not sure what all this means quite yet. maybe i'll see Biggie at the mall next time and he'll clue me in. 

love/hate

so goes my relationship with cities. the city itself, love. myself in a city, hate. i should probably tell you that the two cities (and i'm not talking about the 'burbs) i've actually lived in are oakland, california and salmiya, kuwait. both places i clearly don't belong. not in the no one wants you here sort of way (well, maybe that too), but in the, you clearly are not from here one. but those are the places i love to be, the ones where i don't belong (some sociologist should really study this.) 

oakland introduced me to that intial city toughness. the one where you walk down the street with a purpose, even if you don't have one. the toughness that says don't mess with me, i know where i'm going. this toughness requires a constant awareness of surroundings, a head held high, and a moderate pace indicative of neither meandering nor high-tailing it out of the neighborhood. kuwait's toughness is different. i still walk with that don't mess with me, i know where i am going persona, but my head faces the pavement.

one of my first days in kuwait i had lunch with my division head. she mentioned there were a lot of pot holes in the sidewalks and i should watch out for them (this is true, by the way.) perhaps, as neil suggested, what she was really giving me was advice on was how to walk as a woman. my head facing downward, as to avoid eye contact, especially with men. walking to school this morning i realized i was doing just that. unconsciously. walking with neil last night my head was high. alone. down. with a man. high. so the part about myself i hate in cities? i'm not myself at all.

so tell me...

a little bit about yourself. your family background. if/how your culture has shaped who you are. i thought this would be a good first assignment for any anthropology class. wrong. perhaps in the united states, but not so much in kuwait. in the united states most people are just waiting for the opportunity to talk about themselves. they might act like they aren't, but all you have to do is ask and the floodgates open. it's different in kuwait. it's not about the individual at all. it's about community. family. to ask a student to talk about themselves is literally a foreign concept. to ask them about their family, their heritage, is an honor.

i know very little about my cultural heritage. the part i do know, the jewish part, i spent much of my life denying. in kuwait your cultural heritage is something you are proud of. one beautiful thing about kuwait is the sheer diversity. while the majority of people living here are arab, most are not kuwaiti citizens (which is a story for another time.) they may be from saudi arabia, lebanon, palestine, jordan. so, even within this small country there is so much diversity. and we all know that makes me happy.

i think the autoethnography helped me more than the students. most seem to have a firm grasp on who they are, where they came from, and why that matters. i am only beginning to learn.

the grocery

i've never liked grocery stores. ever. as a child i used to beg my mom to let me to stay home when the list of errands included grocery shopping. at the very least, i asked to wait in the car. my disdain for grocery stores has not diminished with age (one exception is my love for trader joe's. for one explanation check this out). but food is important, and not just for the obvious reasons. food gives us clues into cultures, into people's lives. 

in the united states i love to look at my grocery receipt and see how much i saved with my kroger plus card (don't worry, i do realize they hike up the prices only to reduce them.) there's no such savings here in kuwait. but what there is, what i am fascinated by, is the country of origin specified on all items of produce and other deli selections. the past few weeks in kuwait i purchased carrots from australia, pears from china, lettuce from jordan, feta cheese from saudi arabia, oranges from africa (no country specified) and overpriced celery from the united states (which i mistakenly thought would be a cheap purchase-about $6.) to my recollection, in the united states an item is advertised by its classification, such as red grapes, and on the bag the country of origin is then specified. in kuwait each of these products is specifically advertised and documented on the receipt by country of origin. what does this mean? 

i am going to amend my previous statement. food says a lot about cultures, but so does the grocery store. for instance, in kuwait, rather than weighing produce at checkout, there is an attendant who weighs and prices all items in the produce section. this, however, means all produce must be bagged separately only to be bagged with about three other items in an additional bag at checkout. customer service in kuwait is great (so great, in fact, if you want fast food, you don't even have to wait in a drive-thru line; you can order fast food to be delivered directly to your house!) the concern for the environment, however, not so much. (fyi: i realize some, or most of you may already bag your produce at the grocery. it's not mandatory. my cucumbers don't need a separate bag. in kuwait they do.) 

i should mention, however, the food is delicious. here's a picture of some of my favorite items i picked up today-pita, hummus, tabouli, and stuffed grape leaves. the not so fun part of all of grocery shopping in kuwait...transporting the food home. it usually involves a backpack (which unfortunately today was already full with a laptop and books) and a twenty minute walk home. thanks to my time in oakland i am no stranger to little stroll home from the grocery. but today neil and i were, i believe he called it, sweaty betty's by the time we arrived home. perhaps next time we'll take a cab. 

what a long strange day its been

sometimes i am stubborn. okay, a lot of times. lets take today for instance. most people try to avoid being outside between the hours of 12 pm and 5 pm because it is just too hot. not this girl. when she decides she wants to go to the coffee shop, she goes. 120 degree heat won't stop her. at approximately 12:20 pm i leave my apartment in search of a coffee shop. my walk should take about 15 minutes door to door. at about minute 11 of my walk i cut through this parking lot of a car dealership (the same one i cut through every day on the way to school). i see a man pull up in a car. i think  to myself, oh gosh, i am not dealing with this. i keep walking. he's shouting out the window, "ma'am, ma'am." i finally turn to acknowledge him and he responds, "ma'am it is too hot to be walking. may i give you a ride somewhere?"  i politely decline and tell him i was just headed to the university less than a block away (not exactly true but it seemed like a good response on the spot). my mom taught me not to take candy from strangers so i thought i probably shouldn't take rides from them either. 120 degrees or not. 

but the highlight of the day was yet to come. this evening i hung out with my favorite family in kuwait. it's my friend adnan's family and they have taken exceptional care of me ever since i arrived. we spent the evening at the scientific center. while mona (adnan's mother) and i were walking through the aquarium an indian woman approached me and asked if i would take a picture. i said yes assuming she wanted me to take a picture of her family. wrong. she wanted to take a picture with me. then her mother joined in for another picture and before i knew it we were taking a family photo and there was my face amongst a sea of unknown. 

i was confused. what just happened? why me? did she want a picture with an american? someone who was white? i don't know. as uncomfortable as i felt i stood there for three photos posing as if i were reunited with old friends. i wonder, if in some very miniscule way, this is how other people feel. you know, the ones we sometimes like to take pictures of because we think they look "exotic" or "different." they pose politely because they don't know what else to do and then walk away wondering what makes you think they're so different in the first place.  

marriage

nope, not my own. but the other day in the women's section of cultural anthropology i learned a lot about the history of kuwaiti marriages. i asked students to think of particular areas we could study to better understand the way a society operates. the first response: marriage. then i learned  a bit more. 

back in the day (and i'm not sure how far back) this is how arranged marriages in kuwait worked. the mother of a young woman would take a picture of her daughter to the mother of a young man. once the mother of the young man had a few options she would choose a woman suitable for her son. after the mother made her selection she would inform her husband. when both mother and father of the young groom agreed upon a bride for their son the marriage was arranged. bride and groom met on their wedding day. 

ok meredith, and the  big deal is...? it was the mothers, not the fathers, who arranged the marriages! it was the women who, if you will, held the power. those of you who are married and are from the united states may have experienced the converse. while your marriage may not have been arranged, if you are the male you may have sought the blessing of the bride's father, and if you are the woman, perhaps your husband asked your father for his  'approval' before proposing. 

and so, the lesson of the day: things are not always as they appear. 

facing yourself

school started today. neil and i decided we should celebrate, or more likely, reward ourselves, and get a cup of coffee after class. well, actually, neil bought the coffee since he lost a bet for one dinar last night (the dinar is the kuwaiti currency, it's about $3.75 USD and the cost of a cup of coffee here). i've been in kuwait a week now and can't help but recognize the similarities and differences between kuwaiti and united states cultures. probably the most recognizable difference is dress. while some women and men cover (whether their head or their entire dress), others do not (and for those wondering, no, i don't cover). but the similarities are striking. there are coffee shops on virtually every block (especially the status symbol that is starbucks), malls galore (here they're especially expensive and high end), teenagers walking in excessively large packs, people going to the grocery store after work, and families living their daily lives.

why then this imagery that the middle east (as if it was one country, like africa is often spoken about) is so different? neil kindly pointed out to me that sometimes when i make observations i use adjectives such as weird or different, rather than new or interesting. ouch. tomorrow i have to go into a classroom of women and men (classrooms are sex separated in accordance with islamic law) and teach them about ethnocentrism and cultural relativism. and what have i just done? meredith, the one who loves to study and learn about other cultures has fallen into the trap of using my culture and experiences as the basis for comparison. this is hard to admit, but good to share.

all this to say for those of you who are worried about me, please don't be. i am fine and i am safe. actually, i am better than fine. i have never met more hospitable and kind people than i have in kuwait this past week! plus, take a look at these pics. how could i not love living and working in such a beautiful place?

dishes.

i've always wanted to be one of the cool kids who could stay up to the wee hours of the morning and then slept half the day away. thanks to a seven hour time change, i am now that person (well, at least the one who sleeps half the day away). since arriving in kuwait i haven't been able to fall asleep before 3 am or drag myself out of bed before noon. today, i vowed, this would change. school starts wednesday and i probably need to work on practical things, like a syllabus and making sure i can wake up for my 10 am class. today i was out the door a little after 9 am.

my early morning had a few unintended consequences, one being i didn't wash the dirty dishes in the sink. when i returned home this afternoon i entered the kitchen and i was perplexed. where did my dishes go? and what about that massive white cutting board? i checked the cabinets, the drawers. nothing. hmmm. then i looked above the sink, saw the cutting board drying, and realized the housekeeper cleaned my dishes, put them away, and left the board out to dry. WHAT!?! i am semi-okay with someone cleaning my "luxury serviced apartment" and making my bed (although this happens daily which is completely unnecessary), but doing my dishes is just too much.

i tried to do my homework before coming to kuwait. one of the pieces i read said westerners often have difficulty comprehending and receiving the service work of foreign nationals. guess i'm one of those people. you say, how is this any different than in the states? aren't service workers in the states comprised largely of latino immigrants, blacks, and women? yes, you are absolutely correct. i can't seem to find the exact words i'm searching for. it is similar, yet different. birthright and nationality automatically determine social class here. there is little, if any, upward mobility. it's pretty much a caste system.

across from our apartment building there is a rundown building where some foreign nationals live. i pass this building walking to and from school and have a view of the building from my balcony. today, an old bus with no air conditioning was parked outside jammed packed with southeast asian and indian women. are these the same women who clean my apartment and do my dishes?

today my heart is sad. whether it's kuwait, the mountains of the new river valley, or the streets of oakland, poverty and wealth are such close neighbors. i'm not sure what the answer is, but one thing is for sure, i am going to wake up early enough to do my dishes tomorrow morning.

where am i?

customs and visa issuing in the kuwaiti airport are located adjacent to the food court. i wasn't sure where i was. i saw starbucks, caribou coffee, pizza hut, mcdonalds, burger king, and other "american" fast food chains. really? is this what we have contributed to the world? apparently so. after a brief walking tour of the city yesterday i realized there was more: dunkin donuts, gloria jean's coffee, cinnabon, applebee's, tgi fridays, and both mcdonalds and burger kings with prime real estate overlooking the gulf. this is globalization in action. right now i am listening to the "hit" radio station in kuwait and kanye west's "the good life" is playing (wow, 50 cent just came on). if i didn't know better, i might think i was listening to k 92.i'm not saying that any of this stuff is inherently bad (well maybe all the fast food is), but the presence of "american culture" is staggering.

last night we had the opportunity to go to a mall and hear some traditional drumming (pics below). malls really are the place to be. they are air conditioned, open late, and provide a public environment for teenage flirting (i guess even across cultures some things remain constant). it was a great opportunity to have a glimpse into kuwaiti culture, even at a mall. who knows, perhaps the dollar will get stronger and i may actually go shopping in one of them.

(i've added pics of the drumming last night, my apartment, and the view from my balcony).

i'm here!

just wanted to let you all know that we arrived safely last evening. everyone here has been extremely nice and hospitable trying to get us situated. it's always an adventure trying to navigate a new place, language, and culture. but i think we've done alright so far. we managed to find our way to the american university of kuwait (auk) this morning, and from there, we've been in excellent hands. they're helping us exchange money, find a grocery store, and all the little things you take for granted when your home. perhaps my favorite thing, so far, is the beautiful ocean views (the university is right across the street from the beach). on the agenda for tonight (thursday night is the start of the weekend) is going to hear a little live music with another professor and hopefully a chance to catch up on some of this jet lag. i'm still trying to figure out the internet at the apartment but will hopefully post some pictures soon. much love.

farewell to the 'burg

so, i have officially left the 'burg. it's been a great week: monday dinner with sj squared, a happy birthday to chewie skype call on tuesday, and a farewell celebration at the cellar on wednesday. sometimes it seems a bit silly to me, all of this goodbye stuff. truth is, a lot of people leave blacksburg for the summer, i think that's why it's called a college town. yet this goodbye seems a bit different. for a while i thought people wanted to say goodbye because they weren't sure if i'd return. now i think maybe that's just what friends do.

great news: i managed to pack everything into one checked bag! it came down to the fact that you now have to pay for a second checked bag and i pretty much refuse. plus, i figured, i traveled in europe last summer with only the clothes i could fit in my pack, and a suitcase is much bigger than a pack, so i'll be fine. of course, i'll be in kuwait three times as long as i was in europe, but no need to get caught up in the details.

i fly out tuesday. i am not really scared, just anxious. i'm pretty much what you'd call one of those details-oriented people, and i don't have any. our flight lands wednesday morning and that's about all i know. ok, not true. i know that it will be hot (around 120 degrees) and apparently there's a lot of starbucks and oil in kuwait (and yes, i'm working on a way to bring some back--oil, that is.)

well, hopefully the next time i post will be from kuwait. here's to safe travels and earning lots of frequent flier miles.

june 10.

june 10 is fast approaching. in a little over two weeks i'll be on the longest plane ride of my life...to kuwait (this 20 hour plus trip, no doubt, will be aided by a friendly little amino acid known as tryptophan). since we all know i have not, and would not, join the military, why then would i be spending my summer in kuwait? to teach cultural anthropology at auk, of course. some of you may be wondering how i got myself into this one. yeah, me too...

brief story: end of fall semester the president and dean of auk visit vt. i attend an informal lunch and meet them. my presence signifies mere interest. end of meeting, i take their business cards, and think about applying. maybe. one month passes. then another. two other grad students who attended the meeting submit their applications. they encourage me to do the same. mine remains on my 'to-do' list. i stall. i stall some more. i am hesitant. the new year passes. i've yet to submit. one sunday at bollo's, i send it in. i am faced with the reality this is a real possibility. i am scared. i am a woman. i have a jewish last name. i am american. i want to thrive in uncertainty and fear. i know myself well enough to know that i don't. i am excited. if not now, when? woman. yes. jewish name. yes. american. yes. scared. yes. worth it. yes.

so, june 10, i'm off to kuwait. good news: i'm not going alone. (truth: i wouldn't go alone.) neil, another grad student from that initial lunch meeting, is embarking on this little journey as well. my hope is that this blog will be just one way i can keep you, beloved friends and family, updated on our little kuwaiti adventures.