The Summer Slow Down

Here the summer term ends in a quick-quick-slow pace. Teaching teaching teaching, followed by half days (where the pupils only come in until lunch time) then time to mark assessments, write reports and pack up the classrooms with no pupils for the last few days. It is quite an anticlimax in lots of way. No real end of year concerts or parties...it will just be the end of a year.

We have been lucky this year with the heat. It only recently got hot hot. The type of heat where your eyes hurt when you walk outside. Where you feel your skin prickle. Where you will sweat no matter what you wear. Teachers stagger round the playground, eyeballs sweating, clutching a bottle of water, reminding pupils that the skipping ropes are not weapons, counting down every minute.

By the time I leave the circus school, the roads are emptying. Everyone wanting to rush home to find refuge from the heat in their cool houses and apartments. The roads are once again turned into race tracks (just like during Ramadan), not wanting to stay out one moment more than necessary. Time for lunch and a siesta.

Facebook is full of daily weather updates. Not a surprise, but neither is the heat. It is a desert after all. Yet as soon as the gauge hits the 40s, we turn to British ways and comment on it endlessly.

I am still running. But my buddy are back to 4:50 am runs or short evening sessions. It makes training for anything challenging. We tried a longer evening run this week, but after 35 minutes I was broken. I spent the rest of the night lying in my underwear on the cool tiled floor of the apartment. Next year I WILL join that overly priced health club...even if I use it on dusty, hot days it will be value for money!

Less than two weeks and I'll be on a big plane again. I'll be heading back to Scotland for a bit, then I am off to Western Canada; for hikes, runs by a lake (I've never been...just picturing it!) and a special wedding.

PS- Today, it was announced, Kuwait was the hottest country in the world (yep,my car read 50 degrees Celsius..it said 51 at one point!). Good job there is a lot of oil and money, as there are not many other reasons to be here. Now the summer exodus begins!

White Noise in the Sandpit

Traveling makes writers of us all. We make memories and commit them to mind, if only to retell them on a postcard.

Even a short 45 minute flight to a neighbouring Gulf state is inspiring, making me a bit more wide eyed once more.

This was certainly the case when I popped over to Bahrain recently.

Apart from the usual pre-race nerves that makes my mind noisy with advice on everything from my morning routine to my self-doubt for the run, there was the welcome noise from outside; the sounds of night crickets flirting with one another.

I no longer felt like I was in the sandpit. Not my sandpit anyway.

I used to write about the African night, that brought the outdoors in (this is always a bit more intense on safari...like in Tsavo!). The screeching of the hyraxes, or Coco, 'my' guard dog, barking after a wild cat in the tree, or the chatter from the askari hut.

Now, the sounds that I fall to sleep to are of the local boys (who seem to be on a year-long holiday from school) playing football late into the night on a piece of dirt-sand that is used as a car-park. This, thankfully, is no longer punctuated by the fireworks or air-gun rifles that were available at Eid and lingered long after the holiday! Construction is always taking place. Through the night the sound of cranes, trucks and hammering...somewhere. Rubbish is being collected. Trucks are reversing. Horns beep. Bikes and cars race. Brakes screech. Oh, and then it is prayer time again. The mosque, that I can see through my window reminds my neighbours that it time to worship Allah (this is not a gentle reminder, more of a bucket of water poured on your head,with the drill sergeant shouting, "GET OUT OF BED!!!"), to me, it is a sign that a new day is here...but not just yet...5 more minutes or so.

It is not a peaceful place to drift off to sleep, but after a while, the noise that keeps you awake becomes familiar...like everything in the place that you live. My writing seems to reflect this recently, at a loss of how to report on the unusual, tending to recount the mundane.

I have such talented friends, who write about the region with more of a flair. If you are interested, check out these blogs.

Life in a Dust Storm - a great story teller (I actually want to retell some from dinner the other night), everything from being a POW to good old rants about low-cost airlines.

Sand in my Teacup - if we all gang-up on her, we may get her to write more!

Yalla Bo - an athletic idol of mine writes too!



Happy reading.

Same same, but different

At a glance the Gulf States in the region all seem pretty much the same, apart from a few obvious differences in alcohol laws.

But really, each little Gulf state is so different. There is such a different vibe when entering the countries; some more relaxed than others, the Nationals happier, some more arrogant, others more competitive perhaps. (It is harder to answer the question of 'why' it is like this, but a lot, I think, comes down to money and oil.)

(I have written the next two sentences about six times and deleted them, as really, it is quite hard to explain how they are different, without using the word 'different' again and again. So...I'm going to give you a wee example.)

My friend and I arrived in Bahrain in the evening. As it was coming up to the 14th February and the anniversary of the protests at the Pearl Roundabout, there was a wee bit of waiting to do while they did background checks to see if I was a journalist. I got the all clear (blog writing obviously does not count..ha!) and off we went.
We decided to get a taxi, leaving our friends (that we were staying with) more time fluff up the pillows and leave sweets on our beds (no joke) !!
The Bahraini taxi driver was all smiles,  welcoming us to his car and his country. I was explaining how I too am a Bahraini (am not really- but it is my country of birth) anyhow...
the banter in English continues and when we stopped at the first set of traffic lights, the driver takes out two small clean cups and offers us some tea for the journey.

Tea!

I had to ask him if I could take a photo. He laughed and agreed. Ehh, this would not have happened in a taxi in Kuwait!
My friend and I had been outside the airport for 3 minutes and we loved it. We knew it was going to be a great weekend and it was.

Then...jump forward to arriving back in Kuwait. (Quite depressing at the best of times). I was arriving on a different flight from all of my friends. I considered hanging around at the airport to get a lift, but I was so shattered and only thinking about my bed, so jumped into an airport taxi (something my friend Kirsten has forbidden me to do!).

The taxi smelt of stale cigarettes and had burns in the seats. The driver spoke no English (pretty much everyone in Kuwait speaks English, apart from those with jobs in the ministries or at the airport it seems) so I bumbled through my instructions in Arabic, asking him to drive slowly-slowly.
We got on the way, zooming down the expressway (no notice was given to my earlier instructions) and suddenly we had pulled into the side of the road with cars screeching past at 120km per hour. I thought we had ran out of fuel (this is more likely to happen in Uganda than in a land floating on oil...but still)-but no, my driver had gotten out the car to face Mecca and pray.

Fine. Who am I to judge? Although...wasn't that happy about the cars careering past me.

Anyhow- my Arabic is obviously not quite up to scratch, or maybe it was the fact the driver was busy talking on his mobile and that was the reason we missed my turning and ended up with a 10 minute diversion.

I fell out of the taxi when it reached my apartment (after flying over speed bumps and sharging through roundabouts) and vowed never do get in an airport taxi again.


Welcome back to Kuwait!

Bahrain Marathon Relay

After a few too many drinks with my friends in Dubai a couple of weeks ago, we decided to sign up for the Bahrain Marathon Relay. My buddy Kirsten and I were the sensible ones out of the group and decided to do split the marathon between the two of us, so we both did 21 km...a few of the crazies did the full.

It was such a fantastic, low-key event. The support among all the runners on the loop course was brilliant and I hope to do it again next year.

 

Three of my friends were leaders in their field (yes-I have amazing friends!)-the trophies were presented by Brent (above) who was made Bahrain his 199th marathon! 199! Inspiring stuff!

 

The split times haven't been published yet (and as I still have no watch, I just tried to enjoy the run and listened to my body) so I don't know my half marathon time- but together our time was 4 hours and 21-pretty chuffed-this meant that the 14 hours of drinking that followed was definitely deserved! Right!?


PS- I'll tell you more about my wee trip to Bahrain, my country of birth another night...but tonight is a night for rest and recovery!

All about the bling!

So..this was what it was all for...

 

The celebrating helped relax my muscles, but it was still hard to keep my eyes open the night of the run!

We booked the perfect restaurant to celebrate by the Dubai Fountains, where a special light and fire show was on. We ate haggis to celebrate Burns night and completing the marathon and we proudly wore our medals all weekend.

Pretty much perfect!

I did it!

 

 

I am just back from one of my favourite weekends away ever! I completed my first marathon and spent the rest of the time celebrating!

It wasn't easy (surprise!!), even with months of training, but my running buddy helped me get through it. We had a very foggy start in Dubai, but by the end of our long run, I had some very impressive tan lines...the back of my legs are quite hilarious! I am looking forward to a cooler run in Seville.

A few kilometers in the 30s were the worse, but actually, I enjoyed most of it, I really did. We met some great people along the way and the expat crowds were very supportive.

It is all pretty much a blur. The 5 hours and 17 minutes (Yes, it took me that long...but I don't care!!) went by pretty quickly!! Really!

My medal has hardly been off my neck since...I even wore it at school today!



PS- My Internet is too slow tonight to upload any photos of the bling! I'll post them soon!

The Las Vegas of the Middle East

So...going back a few days...I recovered from my wee trip to Dubai and just enjoyed a couple of quiet days in Kuwait for the rest of my Eid break.

I have visited Dubai three times previously and although I have had lots of fun every time I go (thanks go largely to the Irish Village for that...remember....I live in a dry country (dry...dry...no alcohol people...not a drop...cough cough), but even still, I have never been overly enamoured with the Dubai.



This time though, I was pretty much blown away by Dubai. If there was ever an icon of the shiny city-this could be it. Coming from Kuwait, a place built on oil and money but, lets be honest, quite an ugly place to live in, to go to Dubai, where roads, buildings, parks and green spaces are planned and where things just seem to 'work'. It is so much more 'civilsed'. It is hard to explain, but there just seems to be more respect by the people that live in the emirate than there does here.

There are air conditioned bus stops, a high tech metro system, road signs (road signs everyone! Signs before the junction you were supposed to take!), police men doing their job (!)...what can I say. I was blown away.



Fine, Dubai is in a still climbing out of the dark hole of recession, even with the help of a $20 billion 'get out of jail' bail out from Abu Dhabi. (Factoid-In 2011 over 2500 expats left Dubai every month, many leaving debts behind and cars unsold at the airport with keys in the ignition). There is a long way to go before the country is financially stable once again, but when people are wanting to spend, Dubai is ready and waiting. Ready and waiting I tell you, with smiles as they stamp your passport and shiny white gloves to help take your suitcases.

During Eid, Dad treated me to birthday champagne (and a martini or two) from a fancy-smancy bar in a fancy-smancy hotel, with views of the Burj Dubai Khalifa and the Dubai Fountain. We weren't the only ones around that area though. When it was time to go, literally hundreds of people were waiting for taxis. But rather than having to sharpen our elbows, the taxi queue was organised with military precision, security patrolled the lines to make sure there was no queue jumping (I know, amazing!),  free bottles of water were handed out and the line filtered down until it was our turn for a taxi. Dad and I got in the taxi a little lost for words. (And he does not get impressed with much, but I think I made him look at Dubai in a whole new light!)



The crowds at the Dubai Fountain

Dad in a Disney shot!

Yep-it was pretty great. You should check out this very funny post on the nutstopolis, considering the writer doesn't live there, they pretty much got it in the bag.

Eid Mubarak

I am just back from spending Eid in Dubai, visiting my dad and having an early birthday celebration (basically just a wee excuse to leave Kuwait and travel again, Megan! )

 

 

After stocking up in products from the 'non-muslim' section of the supermarket (mmm-pooorrk!) and having a drink (or twenty), I need to have a healthy week. I got up for a 16km run this morning. Now I only have enough energy to unpack my bag between naps!