Blog 25... 2009-2010 London to Kuwait and Dubai
I flew to London on December 14, 2009. My friend Kathie met me at the airport, which was a blessing. The plan was to stay with Kathie and her husband Graham in their tiny flat in Ealing. I did master getting around the city by the Tube, but only because Kathie taught me.
Kathie & Graham | Ealing Neighborhood | Is this English? |
When Kathie, a talented songwriter and singer, lived in Hansville, she met Graham on a blind date. She had been reluctant to go on the date, but she moved to London to live with Graham shortly afterward. It had been more than 6 years since we had seen each other. Their neighborhood was quaint and quiet. I loved seeing what it was like to live in London. As it turned out, I only had one day to tour with Kathie because she came down with a severe case of the flu for most of my stay. Since Graham worked for the BBC, he wasn’t available to play either. Our one day of exploration included a visit to the National Gallery, a London landmark in Trafalgar Square, housing thousands of paintings from the 13th to the 19th centuries. We had fun window shopping and laughed a lot about the simple things that carry different names, like torch for flashlight or posh for rich. The red shoe display at Harrods was hilarious!
National Gallery | Harrods luxury department store | Victoria & Albert Museum |
The next day I ventured into the city solo to South Kensington. First stop was the Victoria and Albert Museum, a treasure trove of global art and design. Since I love textiles, craftsmanship, and cultural traditions, the magnificent galleries of exquisite textiles, costumes, jewelry, furniture and decorative arts spoke to my heart. I was impressed by the Royal Albert Hall and the Albert Memorial in Kensington Gardens. The gilded statue of Prince Albert commissioned by Queen Victoria was sheltered beneath an ornate Gothic canopy. I stopped for a draught of beer at the local pub, The Plough, on my way back to spend the night with Kathie and Graham. I found pub life to be very crowded, loud and animated.
Albert Memorial | Royal Albert Hall | The Plough, an Ealing Pub |
I returned to the Victoria and Albert Museum the next day to focus on the Maharaja exhibit that fascinated me before meeting up with another friend, Georgia. Georgia and Constantine stayed at the Creature Comforts Inn in the fall, and we had become good friends. We met at the ice rink on East Lawn of the Natural History Museum. The ice rink was a well-loved seasonal happening with a large Christmas tree, festive lights and a café bar. Unfortunately, Constantine was also ill and couldn’t join us.
Constantine & Georgia | The seasonal ice rink | Natural History Museum |
We toured the museum’s extensive collections of fossils, minerals, plants and animals for several hours before dining at a nearby Polish restaurant. On the way back to Ealing, I enjoyed the Christmas spirit abounding everywhere. Carnaby Street, a pedestrian shopping street, was a Christmas treat with lights, balloons, and street performers.
Cheery Carnaby Street | In the spirit of Christmas | Holiday carolers |
The following morning, I returned to the Natural History Museum to see an exceptional exhibit: Wildlife Photography of the Year. I spent the rest of the day walking, visiting Hyde Park, the South Bank of the London Eye, with charming Christmas markets and more street performers, crossed London Bridge, listened to Big Ben chime 2 PM, saw Buckingham Palace and so much more.
Holiday Markets | Street performers by the Eye | Big Ben and the Parliament Buildings |
With Kathie still not better, I went to dinner with Graham that night. First, a beer at Duffy’s Pub and then, dinner at Papaya, a Sri Lankan restaurant. Graham announced that he was retiring from the BBC after 23 years. He and Kathie planned to move to the Orkney Islands off the northern tip of Scotland. I was surprised and delighted that they were about to evolve their lives in a new direction. We went to hear the Chorus of Christmas Carols at the Royal Festival Hall,
London’s most famous performing arts venue. Kathie was to be a singer, and she was very disappointed not to be able to perform.
The Chorus of the Christmas Carols at the Royal Festival Hall | Georgia's terraced flat in Streatham Common |
I spent the night with Georgia in her terraced flat in Streatham Common on December 20th, about 6 miles outside of London. She rode her old-fashioned upright bicycle with the classic hamper basket on the handlebars to meet me at the train station, and we walked to her flat through her quaint village. Her flat was the complete opposite of Kathie and Graham’s tiny one. Her flat was huge with high ceilings decorated in an arty, cottage style. We visited Constantine in his little hideaway flat. Since he was feeling much better, we all went to their Film Club holiday party at their friend Pam’s place. There was lively conversation, delicious food with hot mulled wine. We watched the movie P.S., I Love You with Hilary Swank.
On my last day in London, December 21, I had a 10 PM flight to Kuwait. The day was stormy and I decided to go see the newly released Avatar movie in 3D at a lovely art deco theater, the Odeon Theater in Leicester Square, the same theater that hosted Avatar’s global premiere eleven days earlier. I was spellbound! On Georgia’s suggestion, I had lunch at All in One Bar before returning to Kathie and Graham’s flat to pack. It was now a blizzard! Graham insisted that he accompany me to the airport. I was so glad he did. The roads were super slippery and the trains were packed. I worried about his return to Kathie. Meanwhile, flights throughout Europe and the UK were being canceled. Because I was flying to a warmer place, it was possible my flight would be OK. And it was! But we sat on the plane for 4 hours while they repeatedly de-iced the wings before we finally took off.
Top Left: Kuwait City - Top Right: Mubarak in the park by Ali's apartment
Bottom: Ali, an English teacher at the Box Hill College
Arriving in Kuwait was extraordinarily different from the London blizzard I just left. It was sunny and 80 degrees! Ali had planned to meet me, but my late arrival conflicted with a meeting she had to attend. As I left airport security, I spotted a man in full Arabic dress waiting for me with a “Jeri” sign, Mubarak. He entertained me for 3 hours until my Ali was free to join me at her decadent apartment in a high rise with a view of Kuwait Bay on the Persian Gulf. Her huge apartment was furnished in rich tapestries, Persian rugs, chandeliers, and dramatic art. Ali and I have been best friends, twin flames, since the first day of first grade. We feel blessed to have such a close relationship spanning back to 6 years old. We had 18 wonderful days together, something we hadn’t experienced since college days when Ali lived with Jim, my first husband, and me. We visited her Club at the Palms for a belly dancing class, and a Pilates class followed by a steam bath and sauna…heaven!
Every day I ran on the boardwalk across the street from her building on the bay. Afterwards, Ali took me to see her classroom where she taught English at Box Hill College, an Australian school. I joined a group of her colleagues, about 15 of us, for an outing to two private museum collections: first to the main Tareq Rajab Museum with tribal Middle Eastern artifacts and textiles, right up my alley, followed by the Tareq Rajab Museum of Islamic Calligraphy. We lunched with two of her colleagues, Lidiya and Huda, at Kastana, a Lebanese restaurant at the Marina Crescent overlooking all the yachts. They got so excited about my description of Avatar that we went to an afternoon showing. Even though it wasn’t in 3D, I enjoyed it for a second time.
Jeri & Ali at the Tareq Rajab Museum | Jeri, Ali & Huda at Kastana Restaurant at Marina Crescent |
It’s very rare for foreigners to be invited to Kuwait weddings, but Ali had become dear friends to many of her students over the years. I was lucky to be visiting when there was not one, but two wedding parties we planned to attend. These are extravagant affairs requiring evening gowns. Fortunately, Ali’s wardrobe was extensive, and we had fun selecting our outfits. For Ali, dressing up is part of her lifestyle, but this is something unusual for me!
Ali in a romantic gown | Jeri in an elegant gown | Not my normal attire! |
Christmas Eve was very exciting! We started the day by going for a run on the boardwalk, shopped for outfit accessories, lunched at Johnny Rockets, a 1960s-style retro diner, and got ready for the first wedding.
Ali, a Christmas Eve run | Jeri, blissful on the boardwalk | Lunch at Johnny Rockets |
I wish I had photos of the wedding! We arrived at the mansion at 9 p.m., walked in on a red velvet runner to giant granite doors that opened to an elevator taking us to the party room. I was awestruck with the dazzling women and décor. It was all women, about 200, decked out in gorgeous sparkling gowns, exotic makeup, and fantastical hairdos. This dedicated party room had a central dance floor flanked by tiers of benches, and a stage with an elaborate tufted white satin couch. We were greeted by Tahini, the sister of Ali’s former student, Mohamed, from 1995. We climbed up to open seating on the bleachers to watch the women dancing the Kuwaiti wedding dance to the DJ’s selection of Arabic music. This was not free form dancing. Women started at the top of the floor, parading in succession, mostly in pairs or threesomes, in a melodic rhythm two-step with one arm forward beckoning, the other arm down with a shoulder shimmy. Once at the end of the floor, the dancers returned. The women watching from the benches made comments, cheered, and ululated. I was reluctant to perform, but there was no way to refuse the invitation to join in. After a few rounds, I got the rhythm down. I was surrounded by these kind, encouraging, flirtatious women in a frenzy of clapping. Being the only blonde in the room, I was a novelty. I was very honored by their attention and compliments. Back to the benches where we sat with the bride’s cousins, we were constantly served Turkish coffee with cardamom, saffron milk, mango & kiwi smoothies, and delectable chocolates. Hours later, the bride made a dramatic appearance in a puffball of decadent fabric to a sad song lamenting her leaving her family plus, the ups and downs of life. She sat on her couch while the women took turns going to sit beside her for photos and kissed the bride three times on the cheek. We did this as well. Then, in a flurry of activity, the women quickly donned black gowns to completely cover up before the men entered and took their seats. The groom entered first, followed by his attendees, and then the dads. The groom sat by his bride for another photo shoot, and the women danced a new dance, called Khaleegy, that represented riding a horse, galloping several steps on one foot and then the other with a hand stretched out in front and dramatic shaking of their heads. The dancing continued after the bride and groom left. Later at 1 AM, we were summoned to proceed upstairs for an elaborate feast which spanned two opulent, gigantic rooms of marble, granite, chandeliers, rich carpets, and ornate art. After eating, we declined to return to the dancing. We left at 3 a.m. with takeaway boxes stuffed with yummy food.
On Christmas day we relaxed, told stories, ate our leftovers, and then prepared for another gala event, this time leaving at 7 p.m. This was an engagement party hosted by the bride’s mom in yet another mansion that felt like a Hollywood movie set. We arrived with Maryam, the bride’s sister and her aunt. We were greeted by several more of the bride’s aunts and the grandmother of the bride, a wild toothless Bedouin with henna fingertips and palms, called Big Mama. Ali had been the teacher to one of her daughters, Amna, and had been part of this family for seventeen years. She took us in hand into the elevator down to an ornate, almost gaudy grand receiving room where we sat with her going on and on passionately about her life here. Her enthusiasm was contagious. I loved this woman instantly. When she was young, Kuwait was a much poorer country, heavily dependent on pearl diving and trade. Sixty years later, oil had transformed Kuwait from a poor country dependent on pearl diving and trade into one of the wealthiest nations in the world. Her point of concern was what would happen to Kuwait when that resource runs out, predicted to happen in about 2060. Ali, fluent in Farsi, the only language this enchanting Bedouin spoke, translated her conversation for me. Fascinating!
Next, we were ushered into their party room, almost a duplicate of the one last night, and the dancing began, this time with a Bedouin flair. We immediately felt tension in the room. And there was! Neither family approved of the match, which was a love story. It was impossible not to notice the groom’s sister, a tiny, delicate gorgeous woman dressed in a long cherry red sleeveless gown with a see-through mesh middle, and a bustle of mesh roses holding up a train. She wore her long-curled hair off to one side. Her six-year-old daughter wore a red dress with black boots while her seven-year-old son wore classic Muslim attire. He had a difficult time keeping his head piece on his head. They entered the room with other ice queens and maintained the freeze as their grandmothers were wheeled in in wheelchairs. All the grandmothers on both sides wore Bedouin black garments. As the evening wore on, the chill was lifted as the dancing took over. It was much the same as last night’s wedding with the coffee, smoothies, and chocolates, the photo shoot with the bride. The bride looked like the top of a Victorian cake in a pale lavender Edwardian style dress, her hair cascading down in long curlicues, and porcelain skin. On the dance floor, our hostess grabbed me for a photo with her. Once again, I am the blonde foreigner curio. We sat with several of the bride’s aunts, including Amna who was a huge presence, bold as brass, with their girls, about 20-year-olds. These young girls were dressed in scanty dresses, high heels, makeup, and hair done to the max. I had so much fun interacting and dancing with them. Then came the flurry of putting on the gowns and veils as the men were about to enter. The bride and groom sat for the obligatory photos but since this was an engagement party, there was an exchange of rings to photos galore. As soon as they left, gowns were shed and the dancing restarted, including Egyptian style dancing and belly dancing. Our once ice queen in the red dress performed the most amazing belly dance. The buffet feast started at 12:30 a.m., another overwhelming display.
We continued to dance after eating. Our red-gowned lady came to Ali, roping her with her scarf to come belly dance. She was surrounded by clapping women ululating in a frenzy. I was also roped into belly dancing; I almost refused, but those charming 20-year-olds came to me saying, “Come dance with us”. I stuck close to them, mimicking their moves. I was thankful for the belly dancing lessons at Ali’s club. Since the evening’s dance style was more free form, I said to Ali, “Let’s dance our American style”. Because they loved it, taking videos and encouraging us not to stop, we hammed it up! We left at 2 a.m. with more leftovers.
We slept in a little before going to the club for classes and a swim. During a shopping excursion, I found some lovely Moroccan artifacts to bring home for sale at 4Creature Comforts. We had planned dinner with Mohamed, Ali’s former student from 1995, at the Living Room, on a jetty listening to the lapping waves. I used to write letters to Ali about my wild adventures around the world. When she sensed her students’ attention drifting, she would pull out a “Jeri” letter to spice things up. It surprised me that Mohamed felt like he was meeting an old friend because of all the “Jeri” letters he had listened to years ago. I was intrigued to discover Mohamed, once an equestrian jumper, now did 20-mile endurance rides in the desert. To my disappointment, he was off to Morocco the next day or else he would have taken me riding. He was a lawyer for the Kuwait Fund, supervising the release of funds to people in need in developing countries.
Top Left: Shopping in Kuwait led to finding Moroccan artifacts like the water bottle
Top Right: The water bottle
Bottom: Ali, Jeri & Mohamed at the Living Room Restaurant on the bay jetty
We flew to Dubai in the United Arab Emirates on the 30th. In 2009, Dubai had approximately 1.77 million residents, with fewer than 10% being Emiratis. Over 90% were expatriates, many from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and the Philippines. What struck me most was how people from so many different countries and cultures seemed to get along so well, even though the local Emirati population was such a small minority. It was fascinating to experience! One of Ali’s passions was dancing the tango. She had been invited to a private tango party by Eleanor, one of her tango community dancers. Our quaint French villa hotel, Maison d’Hotes, was in a neighborhood of impressive homes with the beach on one side and the Dubai skyline, including the Dubai Tower, on the other side. The tower, soon to be officially named Burj Khalifa, stood 2,717 feet tall. Its grand opening was just five days away. The hotel room was furnished with rich Indian style furniture, luxuriant drapes, Afghan rugs, marble floors, and leather armchairs. There were only 13 rooms in this boutique hotel, each with a different theme.
Maison d'Hotes | Mushroom soup & quiche torte for lunch | Dubai Tower |
On New Year’s Eve, we toured around this unique city. We arrived at the party at 9 p.m., expecting to get back about 5 AM. Eleanor greeted us wearing a stunning short sleeveless turquoise glittery dress, surrounded by cute little dogs. Her home was decorated with abundant crystals and Buddhas. There was a large dance floor in her backyard along with lovely, decorated tables and an enormous buffet catered. We sat with a lively group including Jane, from the Philippines. We bonded, partly because we were the only two who didn’t dance the tango. Watching Ali in her element dance the Argentine tango was a treat. Dancing stopped as we rang in the new year to a splendid blue moon. When the dancing resumed, there was belly dancing, Egyptian dancing and some American style dancing, allowing me to shake a tail feather as well. I was so glad to release the intense year of loss, moving forward into 2010 with joy.
Top Left: Ali's Tango dress - Top Middle: Jeri's party dress - Top Right: Jane & Jeri at the New Year's Eve Tango Party
Bottom: Ali & Jeri ringing in the New Year
We decided to use the hop-on hop-off bus as a taxi for more city exploration on January 1st. We saw Jumeirah Beach Park, where there were two days a week devoted to women only. Then we saw the world’s only 7-star iconic hotel Burj Al Arab shaped like the sail of a dhow. Next, we saw the stunning twin Al Kazim Towers with their distinctive art deco style spires. Dubai was known for its futuristic skyscrapers, luxury lifestyle, manmade islands (Sting owed one), and record-breaking attractions. The Mall of the Emirates had an indoor Ski Dubai with a 280’ hill with five slopes plus the Dubai Snow Park for tobogganing, snow fights, and ice cave exploration! The manmade archipelago in the shape of a Palm, The Palm of Jumeirah, can be seen from space and had been dubbed the 8th wonder of the world. Atlantis, The Palm, the hotel at the Palms, had 44 suites with private pools. The Dubai Aquarium and Underwater Zoo, located in Dubai Mall, had a 150’ shark tunnel with 270-degree glass, the world’s largest tank viewing panel at 107’ wide and 27’ tall, and astounding collections of creatures. Dubai truly was the most over-the-top vacation fantasy place in the world.
Top: Atlantis, The Palm
Middle: The Palm Jumeirah archipelago
Next Middle Left: Jumeirah Beach Park - Next Middle Right: Burj Al Arab Hotel
Bottom: Twin Al Kazim Towers with their distinctive art deco spires
Top: The Mall of the Emirates
Bottom Left: Dubai Aquarium - Bottom Right: Ski Dubai
As we were leaving the Mall of the Emirates, the most extraordinary thing happened: pounding rain in the desert! You could see people frozen in place, just looking up at the sound on the dome roof skylight in awe. We were about to go to the home of Ali’s new Persian tango friends, Mehri and her husband, Mohammed, for dinner. Riding the open-air bus was out of the question. Outside the line for taxis was excessively long. Mehri had her husband rescue us. Their home was on a canal river with a walking path that wound on forever, extensive gardens with some shrubs shaped like animals, sculptures, fountains, and richly decorated in Persian style. Mehri had created a mini feast that was as artful as it was tasty. Mehri was a 70-year-old spitfire of energy!
Top: Dinner at Mehri & Mohammed's home in Dubai
Bottom: Jeri & Ali at their lovely home
Back in Kuwait, we decided to take a ferry to Failaka Island, a living history experience, 12 miles off the bay. We walked to the ferry to get a schedule for a later departure, but when we discovered it was about to leave, we simply jumped aboard. As the only two white passengers, we attracted plenty of friendly attention. First, an Indian couple wanted pictures with me, then four young Pakistani girls bombarded us with questions, and then a group of dressed up Indians invited us to share their lunch. Failaka Island, just off the coast of Kuwait, is an archaeological treasure with over 4,000 years of history. Once home to the ancient Dilmun civilization and later a Greek settlement, the island holds fascinating ruins of temples, fortresses, and villages. In stark contrast are the abandoned, war-damaged homes left behind after Iraq's 1990 invasion of Kuwait, a haunting reminder of the island's more recent history. The island was only 16.6 square miles.
Top Left: The ferry to Failaka Island - Middle Top: The Indian couple - Top Right: The Pakistani girls
Middle: Lunch on the ferry with lovely Indians
Bottom: The bullet-riddled remains of what is believed to be the former National Bank on Failaka
Ali was being courted by Professor Mohammed. He invited us to dinner one night, followed by a fascinating Turkish coffee outside the restaurant. A man ground unroasted coffee beans in a large wooden jar with a pestle while he made rhythmic drumming sounds. On a side table sat two coffee urns and hot coals. He played the flute, part of the coffee tradition, while offering us dates. He gave us fez hats to wear as well.
Ali, Dr Mohammed & Jeri | The Turkish Coffee man | Jeri & Ali in Fez hats |
A few days later, Dr. M invited us on a trip to the desert and his beach house. We drove on endless expanses of hard sand with beach houses called chalets on the left and to the right lines of tents used for weekend use. Bedouin tents were set up in circles of families or tribes as well, using generators to supply power to colorful lights encircling them. At night the vast landscape is dotted with these colorful circles. We drove to the Saudi Arabia border before arriving at his chalet located on a protected waterway. We walked to a restaurant, Winner, for dinner followed by coffee in Route 66 café. He took us for a wild ride in the desert over rough terrain hoping we would see the kangaroo rats and rabbits in the headlights. We talked about desert camel races. The jockeys had always been children. When that became controversial, they used robots instead! I would have loved to have seen that! As we continued back to Kuwait City, we stopped at Al Ahmadi, known as the Oil City, celebrating 75 years in Kuwait. The celebration included an indescribably amazing light show, spanning for miles on all the streets, buildings, trees, and lawns. It was pure magic! Driving away we passed mile after mile of oil rigs of liquid gold with their eternal burning flames, kind of eerie in the dark of night.
Dr. M & Ali at his beach chalet | Dr. M & Ali at Route 66 Cafe | Jeri & Ali at Winners restaurant |
I was at the airport January 8th at 6:30 a.m. when I discovered my British Airways flight was canceled due to a snowy London. After several hours, I was able to rebook with Kuwait Airways on a nonstop flight to Washington, D.C., and on to Seattle. Leaving Ali was heartbreaking after such an extended stay. She left me a voice message saying that Kuwait wasn’t the same without me! After eighteen wonderful days together, we were once again separated by thousands of miles. But friendships like ours have never been measured by distance.
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