Arabian Tales

Ahlan Wahsalan - Welcome to a tale of 2 cities

Kuwait

March 14-15, 2008

There was nothing stopping 2 girls from making 2 unplanned trips with 2 cheap tickets. Then 2 officers held us back at the Kuwait airport looking doubly suspiciously at our online visit VISAs, though I had confirmed the validity of the VISA twice. While my heart rate increased by 20 % thinking we might have to spend 2 nights at Kuwait International Airport we soon got out of trouble smiling at the officers who saw our return ticket of 2 days and let us go.

Ruchira and I were received by our good friend and colleague Fakhruddin who drove us into the city continuously bragging about the modernity of the city, having 10% of the world’s oil reserves for the next 100 years, being one of the world’s richest economies in terms of per capita income etc. The city ha

d good infrastructure, though not half as vibrant or glamourous as Dubai. We were glad not to be stuck in traffic jams. We reached Sunita’s house – our most wonderful host for the weekend and savoured an authentic Punjabi meal in its full glory. After the gup shup and Gulab Jamoons we donned our glares and drove into Gulf Road to see the gallons of water stored in the glorious Kuwait towers. These towers to a large extent define the landmark of the city much like the Emirates towers of Dubai, twin towers of Kuala Lampur etc. Locally known as Dasman and Sharq they are 2 spherical structures mounted on towers 79 metres high and can hold up to 4.5 million gallons of water for local use. Reading Lonely Planet helps.

Taking the elevator up may not be as enchanting as going up the Eiffel towers, however on reaching the top there is a sense of Déjà vu. The towers rotate to give you a panoramic view of the city –that once fought the Iraqis in the Gulf War not so long ago and has fought back to being a thriving economy and sustaining some 3 million people. There is a little telescope and the glass wall points out the important landmarks of the city – Telecom towers, Matrah Souq, Dasman Palace, Port Shwaikh, Seef Palace, National Science Centre etc. Looking down at the infinite Arabian Gulf the waves looked like thin white lines and large container vessels looked like paper boats that we used to sail in little puddles many monsoons ago. Looking down at the mighty ocean I was engulfed with the waves of thought of the minisculity of our existence in front of the infinite ocean pondering over the worthlessness of the insurmountable worries that we drown ourselves in. My friends soon pulled me out of the reverie since we just could not afford to miss the photo op from up there.

We soon descended into the corniche of Kuwait City. It was a pristine walkway - with the gentle drops of water lashing our face, wind running through our hair and the Sun staring down at us. All our attempts at trick photography, trying to look as tall as the towers failed miserably. Its not so much fun to be vertically and photographically challenged.

We then left to the Matrah Souq (pronounced as Soukhhhhh – with the Arabic throat gargle). The major population had deserted the other parts of the city only to make their money at this market place. The place was alive with the odour of traditional spices, fish, meat, fruits and of course the fake Rolex watches and Gucci handbags that come from India and China. We did experiment on some cutting chai at a local coffee shop, but cut our culinary adventures right there.

Next day we were off to National Science Centre, a modest attempt on the part of the government to promote something apart from trade and commerce. We did enjoy seeing the 3D movie and the discovery science centre. The aquarium was the highlight. Looking at Marine life - however little you see of it always gives a sense of how badly we need to preserve the bio diversity on this planet. The sharks, rays, alligators in captivity looked at us woefully through the looking glass.

After briefly driving through the city we landed in a shopping mall for lunch. The mall is a symbol of the Middle East. Beneath the abayas (customary black robe) most women don designer clothes, freshly done make up and grooming befitting that of a princess. I stopped wondering who buys the golden handbags, fluorescent orange sandals and parrot green eye shadow.

We took our backpacks and packed off into the packed Jazeera airlines.

Bahrain

April 4-5, 2008

We slowly understood the funda behind fast cars and decided to go watch the grand Formula 1 Grand Prix at Bahrain. Getting a VISA was easier than drawing money from a queue less ATM. Landing in Bahrain international airport we were gripped by the red of Formula 1 fever. The entire city seemed to be reeling under the speed of readying for the race.

We drove through the arid archipelago of 33 islands and into Manama old souq area where we were booked. The city boasted an impressive architecture, a well spread out and impressive skyline and good roads. After all it was the fastest growing city of the Middle East. If Dubai is the queen of the Middle East, Bahrain can well be termed the Crown Prince. The old souq area was like the Linking Road of Bandra or Avenue Road of Bangalore. It was extremely crowded, dotted with tiny little shops and abuzz with trading activity. A sharp cont

rast to the wide avenues we had left behind. The hotel was by far our worst decision –rickety old aircons that sounded like a truck, squeaky doors that can spook you after a scary movie, musty carpets over which i had a strong urge to spray my entire deodrant bottle and opening the window to hear the endless chatter of jobless men.

Ruch has still not forgiven me for taking her to Annapurna Veg. Restaurant to eat roti and dal - a golden opportunity missed at eating big black hairy lobsters.

After an afternoon siesta we walked into the central city area and headed for Seef Mall. Asking for directions from a Bangladeshi was our second worst decision. All the man glibly said was – Follow me. So we followed for miles through the super highways, jumped over fences, crouched through tunnels and scampered through some deserted desert land, surrounded by heaps of nothingness. We looked like we were practising for the world fast walking competition.

Reaching the mall after one and a half hours on foot was a huge relief. The mall is in the central part of Bahrain and our tempers were cooled off after some chocolate ice cream. We collected our tickets for the Race the following day and decided not to walk back. An evening at the corniche overlooking glitzy Manama city gave us some sound sleep in spite of all the blaring music and snoring aircons.

The following morning we took the bus to the Circuit. The Circuit was sprawled over acres of the desert land. We had to take the bus to move from one stand to another. After much ado we found our seats, we were glad to be saving money and not buying the most expensive seats and to be seated far away from the deafening sound of the race cars. The energy on the circuit was indeed definitely worth it. Work commitments only allowed us to see the practice race; however the whole experience evoked in us an interest in speed.

After the race, we decided to do some sightseeing. Neelay joined in for the sight seeing and had his share of arguing with a cab driver who decided to dump us in the desert if we did not pay up more. The first visit was to something called – Tree of Life. Now we drove hundreds of miles in the desert just to see a big Banyan tree. For all of us from tropical areas braving through the dust and nausea for many miles just to see a tree did not seem exactly exciting.However the point was that this lush tree flourished in between dry, arid climate and with no signs of water or fertility around. On the way we did spot some oil pipelines and took some pictures with scores of camels lounging around.

The Saudi - Bahrain causeway was indeed worth it. It is a highway that connects the 2 countries across the Arabian Gulf. While we had to stop at the border of Saudi Arabia we climbed the tower to see the country from the top. The best view we could get of Saudi Arabia without a burqha. A gorgeous view that remained etched in our mind's reservoir.

The dogs may bark but the caravan moves on.
- Arabic proverb

We were back to number crunching, munching and slumber in office the next day.