To I Do My friend, my neighbour

I had the chance to have a good chat with my friend-neighbour when I went back to Malaysia the other day. That evening she had to rush to the clinic after her youngest boy (Jack's age) had a fall and had a deep gash on his chin. When I got to her house, her gate was not locked and neither was the door. It was sometime after Maghrib. I can hear her son crying in the kitchen. I gave salam and walked in. She looked stress. I am not surprise. She has been maidless for sometime. She works and had to juggle with the kids. (she has three. Exactly like my kids age. All three of them)

I played with her son for a while, while she warmed up dinner and made milk for him. Then we sat. She sighed. She was tired, I can tell. And flustered and frustrated. Then she asked me, how did I do it? How was I able to cope without a maid when I was working before...and even now. She said I seem to be able to cope fine and the house is in order. She is just so stressed out in the weekend with all the kids.

I laughed and asked where did you get this idea that I am in order? That I am okay with the kids? That I don't get stressed out? From the blog?

What you don't read does not mean that it doesn't happen and what I write may not be the total story anyway.

Let me tell you this. The kind of things that I sometime do not like to blog about. Why? Because it open up to the ugliness of being a mother. Particularly, me as a mother. It's not always jolly and jiggly like trifle. It cracks sometimes like the crust of the cake you make.

Now you know about Batrisyia's reading that I seem to be worked up lately. I usually do not like to get myself worked up about the kids' reading and all that. I like reading to them and sometimes point out certain words. All relax and fun and hopefully learn.

But you know as much as I know, that the test she did was nothing, but it sort of dawn on me that she is somehow not at par as what her level should be.

I am a mother. I worry ok.

Then it is Haziq's exam week. The teacher gave some maths exercise. And my oh my. It was difficult. For him. And for me to explain it in the simplest way. It is frustrating. I know it's the missing two months, but still he has to cope.

100 millilitre _____ 1/10 liter

fill either > or < or =

He finds it hard to do this. The 1 litre=1000 millitre, he knows but cannot put the use to the question. And when another question comes in with kg and grams, again he doesn't know.

Worst is english. He nearly failed! He was asked the meaning of "The house slept in the moonlight." from a passage, he couldn't explain it. When asked what is the main idea of the story, he doesn't know. When asked to describe in his own words of something in the passage, he doesn't answer.

This frustrates me, because I don't know how to help him for his coming exam. He is definitely not used to these kind of questions. He was trying to search for the answer in the passage.

I don't know what he has been doing in this one month coming home. I know a new strategy of english needs to be done soon with him. Sigh...I felt terrible. Like I have not been coaching him at all.

These things are in my head all the week. I am tired really.

Last night our water pump went dead on us. We ran out of water and the landlord took his sweet time to come to our urgency.

Last night also Jack made a painting on the wall. I do not like unnecessary paintings on the wall. Some parents can brush it off. I can't! So I was angry at that little boy and ticked his hand. He cried. I was angry.

Last night I had PMS. My body ache. I am tired. I didn't feel like waking up.

This morning Jack threw those hotel shampoos and hit my little toe. It hurt. I swallowed my anger but I did feel like smacking someone. Then the same toe knocked on the hard bed. I cursed the stupid damn house!

Jack also was not sleeping soundly when I wanted to cook and that pissed me off because I had to turn off the fire now and then. I am also worried that I couldn't manage to cook when the kids are home. They are always starving and what to eat immediately.

I am seriously pooped today. My head heavy. I am thinking of what and how to teach my kids.

I vacuumed the house. In between I checked haziq's homework. I read and pointed out to Sya new words.

Then I mopped. The kids were on the skype with my dad.

I opened the main door to clean up the little steps outside.

When done, I wanted to close the door but it was a bit stuck. I was too lazy to check what it was and decided to push harder.

Then came the sound! A wailing Jack!

Oh My God! Oh my God!

I just crushed his fingers. His tiny sweet fingers. The fingers that use to brush my cheek. Caress my breast when he feeds on it. Pinch my nose.

Almost immediately I opened the door and picked him up. Looked at his fingers. One was bleeding and two of it were slightly blue.

He cried and buried himself in my chest.

And at that point, I broke down.

The Silver Lining

It was really difficult to get a new school placement elsewhere for Batrisyia this time around. This was what I fear most. Oh dear. Oh dear.

I went to P@rk H0use. Near to my house. They refuse to even give me a form. Even the waiting list is long, they said.

Then I went to @l-J@zeera International school. Yup! Just like the station. Also near to my house. I am in Q@tar afterall, where the station is located. Nope no more place.

This one. C@mbridge. Near to my house. Also full.

C@mbridge girls. FULL! But they allowed us to put her name in the waiting list. It must be because we took hours to get there. Man! The way they do not have a system for their address and road maps!

Ms. Amyl gave me a number though of another school. Funny. I wondered why I never get this school hit on google. I thought it was so small, it didn't have a web page. But it did. Here.

Anyway you must have figured by now that she is accepted to this school. Alhamdullilah. She was called for an assessment day. She stayed in the class of kids her age for a few hours and did activities with them. Teacher, who is Turkish but speak French fluently, asked her questions, ask her to sing, count, random alphabets and play. Which was easy for any kid. She passed. Hooray!

The thing is, in this school she will be going to reception (pra sekolah) instead of Year 1. No wonder such easy assessment.

I asked them so many times why the difference in the system. They looked at me silly and said we are following Br1tish curriculum. But Haziq's school is also a British school (roll eyes) and Batrsyia is suppose to be in Year 1 there.

I talked to Sya's teacher, and she said by all means go ahead. Eh? You see, the truth is, Sya's class is lagging behind by three months. UH?! A week after Sya came in, her teacher got sick and finally quit teaching. The class was out of teacher for a month. Then came a new one, and Sya left for Malaysia. Apparently even that teacher left. Now the class has even a newer teacher. Which in a way is a blessing because otherwise Batrisyia would be the only one left behind compared to her peers.

But..what three months behind? Should I sue the school?

But that is a blessing really. It would give her more time to adjust to the system. English, reading and all. In the other school (the one who rejected her), would actually be tougher. Look at Haziq's english work. My, I think it is tough and wondered if Haziq doing okay about it.

It's a smaller school as well, thus teacher has more time. And the scoop is they are getting a new principal. The one from the school that I wanted to enrol the kids in the first place. I have met her when I visited that school. I must say I am excited and hope that she would bring in ever better changes to the school.

And ok ok. Since the teacher are giving us list of words that they want the kids to be able to recognise and books to assist them to it, I am paying more attention to her.

But oh Lord! Grant me patience for mine is as thin as an onion's skin.

I am trying to mix phonics and word recognition. For instance today she learned the word "end". After a few repetitions, she can say "end". That's word recognition. Add a "B" in front it would make "bend". I asked her to say the sound of B. That's phonics. So she would go beh, beh, beh and end. She would go beh-end. And together what is it Sya? Instead of saying bend, she said beh-end. I told her bend. She said bend. Tried again, she said beh-end. AAGGGHHhhhhhhhhh!

Of course after a while with lots of shouting, she picked up her momentum. Then she forgot the sound of the letter "b" or "m" or some other supposedly easier stuff. I tell you.

Again Oh Lord! Grant me patience! Bestow me with your blessing of patience.

But I must say she is progressing and seem to pick up the habit of reading anything even during eating. This is perhaps because I ignored the kids during eating and would read the papers. (Even the news of Tun going to Malaysia Kini was in the papers here). Sya reads the milk carton. At least she spells stuff like M-I-L-K. I said milk. Then she looks for more M-I-L-K and shouted MILK!

I see silver lining though.

Can you feel the ray?

Change of Heart..

...is Allah's willing, a blessing.

Once what was thought as a wonderful sense of humour, turned out to be a dry tasteless joke.

The self confidence, once awed, was a mere act of arrogance.

The influential circle that has always lingered, really, are suppressing.

I am glad I married him instead.

A good nine years it has been.

And I Call Myself a Domestic Goddess..

Ever since coming here and embracing this new role as a domestic goddess, I have dutily been checking out a few recipe books. Some that I brought over and some on the net. Too used to technical jargons and units, I must now condition myself with new jargons and units. Like the unit "cup", really how much is 1 "cup" I have many sizes of cup, which one is it? But I have get that one sorted out already. *wink*

Then come the ingredients. Some is beyond my comprehension. Since it is beyond my comprehension, I can't even or dare put what the ingredient is here. I might get it all wrong.

But I have been noticing the adjective to an ingredient termed "ground" something. Like ground ginger, ground cinnamon, ground garlic.

All these while I wondered what does this "ground" suppose to mean. Does it mean fresh? Straight from the ground. Like as in ground the soil? The dirt? Straight plucked from the ground? And I thought this recipe is crazy.

Until of course, yesterday, I chatted with my friend. Take my word, the domestic goddess imposter, this lady is THE domestic goddess, true and true. Hail the Domestic Goddess!

Anyway now I know that ground is actually the past tense of grind!

Errr did I tell you that I am the editor of a newsletter here? *rolls eyes*

I am in trouble

We got to know Mr. Fath virtually. Through the internet before we came here. There were a lot of correspondence about schooling and life here in general. Mr. Fath is now the newly elected president of the Malaysian Q@t@r association.

The other night, Mr. Fath invited us for dinner at his house. We had good dinner. Mrs. Aisy (the wife) is an excellent cook. Ask her tips on the sauce (sempat lagi tu). Mr. Fath is a good host. He was very animated telling us stories of his experience in Hong Kong. Mr. Fath looks chinese you see. And he can speak Cantonese too. He was telling us stories, with Cantonese language inserted, about him arguing with a cab driver in Hong Kong, for him being snobbish. I felt like I was watching the 6 o'clock Cantonese drama. I had good laughs.

Good company, good conversation can actually intoxicate me. And the fact that I felt or I thought I didn't have any better things to do, or I don't know what was going on in my mind, I said to Mr. Fath. Read ok. Read ok. This is when the trouble start brewing.

"Does this association produce newsletter?"

"Well yes. But I have not look at it yet."

"You know. If you need a bit of help with the newsletter, I don't mind giving a helping hand."

That's when the trouble sparked. I said help. I didn't say taking up the whole thing. Ayoooo.

Mr. Fath was appreciative, that night. He'd probably didn't put any thoughts to this at all until I said those explosive help word. And I thought I helped spark a bit of interest.

No news after that until last night, about two weeks after the dinner. He smsed lover asking for my email. He also said that there would be an upcoming event and asked that I put up an invitation card to be circulated.

I was like. Oh I do the card eh? I have no idea how to make an invitation card. I don't even know what software to be used. I was almost panic last night. (But I am thinking colourful small leaves. Brightly coloured with sexy Arabic Fonts but in Roman fonts of course. Who ask them to ask me to do it?)

But if that was not choking enough, today's email is the real killer. Mr. Fath emailed me and please do allow me to quote him, verbatim.

As per our conversation during dinner at my house last time when you stated your interest in getting involved with M@Q Newsletter, the Committee was very pleased to accept your offer for volunteering to be the Editor for our newsletter.

What? Editor?

Swallow that!

Here I am, clueless about publishing. Never write anything worthwhile or whatsoever, let alone become an editor. I only write blogs and very measly at that too.

What have I got myself into?

On the other hand, I am excited. I need help of course. But I am excited all the same. It's like there is something forward to (on top of the piling housework), datelines to rush for and I love pumping adrenalin. OKlah nothing like presentation to mean Board members and nor it provides me with monetory, but I probably will like it.

And also, I should not be too worried. After all not many read the newsletter. I have never read it myself. It's usually distributed to the working people with emails (generally the guys) and they probably don't print it out to be read by the spouse. (ideas coming in here actually. he he)

The thing about me also is sometimes I do have ideas, but I am not tenacious enough to put it together. Sigh. And writing is not exactly my best forte. What is, beats me actually.

But do they not know the stake of taking me in as the editor? Me, the domestic goddess. I would probably change the newsletter to perhaps something like the Vogue magazine: with adverts of sales everywhere> Nine West sales up to 50% ends 30th June. *Picture of knee-high boots* or Cosmo: 69 tips to seduce your lover or Parenting: My daughter's first exam failure. What does the expert say?, Gastronomic: Burnt Bread Pudding is crisply sinful.


If I were to mind map, this is exactly what it would like. Chaotic and bended at certain paths

---

The Malaysian Association of Qatar (MAQ) was established on 14 April 2000 during a visit of Dato' Kadir Sheikh Fadzir, the then Tourism Minister of Malaysia to Doha at the time. The aim of MAQ is to unite the Malaysians living and working in Qatar and to organize social functions and other events. At the same time MAQ aims to promote Malaysia and it's rich cultural heritage.

Olang Kulang Ajaq

Malaysian Pleads Guilty to Credit Card Fraud

A Malaysian national pleaded guilty to five counts of credit card fraud at his second hearing in the criminal court yesterday.

So Soon Teck, a 38-year old cook who entered Q@tar on a visit visa, admitted to possessing and using cloned credit cards, forging signatures and defrauding Atlas Jewellery of QR12,000 worth of goods.

The bench, comprising Justices Salah El Sharif, Mohamed Tawarsi and Dr Usama El Shenawi, set May 29 for judgement and sentencing.

Under Q@tar's new Criminal Code, formulated in 2004, So faces a maximum sentence of five years jail and/ or a fine of QR10,000.

"This is the firsttime we are trying credit card crimes, and also the first time we are trying a Malaysian national in our court," Justice Salah said in his chambers.

He assured that in sentencing, the bench would take into consideration So's guilty plea which had saved the court time and costs.

Asked about the plaster cast on his left forearm, So said he had sustained a fracture when he slipped in the bathroom in D0ha's Central Jail, which he is being held in custody together with six other Malaysians.

So is part of a group of five Malaysian nationals arrested on November 19 last year after the Criminal Investigation and Evidence Department's new Anti-Economic Crimes department (ACD) acted on tip-offs set in motion by a local bank.

The five, who were caught from two locations, had in their possession 165 forged creditcards which, they admitted, they had used to buy goods worth QR296,835 from 11 shops.

---

Berita ini telah disiarkan di akhbar Bahasa Inggeris popular di sini iatu Gu1f T1mes di mukasurat 3 hari ini. Muka surat ketiga I tell you di mana sesetengah suratkhabar mengisahkan cerita-cerita penting sahaja di mukasurat ketiga. Ada juga suratkhabar memaparkan gambar-gambar yang tidak relevan. But still on page 3 with big title fonts.

Either kecurian is just so seldom or a Malaysian stealing is the issu, we can't tell for sure.

Tapi rata-rata warga Malaysia di sini kurang senang dengan berita ini. Our reputation in this country is good. Really really good. Generally people here have the highest respect for Malaysians. (Tapi dia kena tau yang ko Malaysian lah baru dia mau respect. Dia orang ni asyik ingat aku Indonesian maid or Filipino. Boring!!!)

Kulang ajaq punya olang. Kasi busuk nama negala gua aje! Memang cilaka!

Getting Used To

Even now, being this amateur domestic Goddess that I am. I still need to get used to the utensils available to me. Many times there are also periods of getting used to. Trial and error. Particularly when trying something new.

I thought now that coming over here equipped with a house with oven, I could learn up all those cakes that I can't pronounce. Stuffs with ingredients that sounds like microphone or something. Exotic baked dishes that would make me look like Stepford wives.

In my temporary house, yes. The beautiful expensive temporary house.

But this house, they gave me this oven. It doesn't have a mark for the temperature. It's either you turn it on or off or somewhere in the middle. And if you are into baking, most recipes will tell you to mark the gas at certain temperature (ranging 170-190C).

So I thought I should try something that I am good already. So I can set a benchmark for future adventures.

Here it is....



the burnt bread pudding!

But actually I took it out before it got worst. The inside are still good though. And Sya loved the burnt crust.

So you see, you see it's going to be hard for me to learn new things (when it comes to oven). I wouldn't know whether I was wrong or it was the oven's fault.

On hindsight, if anything doesn't turn out right I can always blame it on the oven.

Anything at all.

Norman Hakim and Abby split?
The increasing fuel price?
Global warming?
Bakal guru tak kenal Menteri Pendidikan? (salah siapa? salahkan oven)

Cauliflower

Aku teringat pulak lebih 10 tahun dulu masa aku mula-mula sampai UK. Sesungguhnya aku memang tak tau masak langsung. Hancus! Tak tau masak dan tersangatlah kekoknya pergi dapur.

The first few weeks aku sampai UK tu, aku dan dua lagi member aku, yang semestinya jantan, pergilah rumah a few postgrads. Aku tak ingat pun apa pasal kita orang beround sakan pergi rumah-rumah pakcik PhD tu. Cari rumah aku rasa.

So ada satu time tu kita sampai rumah pakcik PhD tu nak dekat time lumch. Ko taulah kita orang ni kan bujang. Pakcik PhD tu ada family. Rumah pun rupa rumah family. Ada bini, ada anak. Makan pun jenis berhidang. Kiranya macam perfect family setup gitulah. So naturally orang melayu mesti ajak kita makan punya. Memandangkan lagi kami yang baru sampai ni rupa macam orang makan fish and chips dengan kebab aje hari-hari.

So OK we stayed on untuk makan lauk free. Dok sambunglah sembang dengan pakcik PhD. Aku tak sembang pun, member jantan aku tu aje yang sembang. Pakcik PhD rasatak sesuai berborak dengan orang pompuan aku rasa. Bini dia entah pergi mana agaknya.

Sekali pakcik tu bangun sekejap. pergi kencing kot. member jantan aku cakap kat aku.

"Woi! Ko tak pi tolong bini dia kat dapur ke? Bini dia tengah masaklah"

"Oh! Aku kena pi tolong eh? Bukan aku guest ke? Aku nak tolong apa pun aku tak tau. Aku tak geti masaklah"

"Pergi ajele! Tanya dia apa nak buat."

Itulah yang aku ingat. Sesungguhnya masa tu aku tak tau yang walaupun aku guest, sebak-baiknya aku tolong jugaklah dia kat dapur. Particularly dia baru aje start nak masak. Ayoo kalau aku ingat balik memang haru aku waktu tu.

Anyway I went to the kitchen. Muka makcik tu macam lega aje tengok aku masuk dapur. So akutanya dia apa aku boleh buat. She quickly handed me the cauliflowers to cut.

CAULIFLOWERS??!!!! Ayooo aku tak pernah potong itu sayur seumur hidup aku. Mak aku tak pernah masak sayur ni. Ni sayur omputih ni. Macamana nak potong sayur ni? Aggghhhh.

Tapi aku potong ajele. Sebab makcik tu dah potong sikit, aku trylah follow sample dia. Tapi cauliflower tu asyik hancur aje. (sebabnya aku potong kecik sangat. Now I can tell you)

So hari tu semua orang makan cauliflower hancur. Aku sengih ajele.

Man without his woman

I was standing there, outside the gold shop. My eyes roamed around while I hold the two trolleys. One filled with my kids, the other with my groceries. Then I gazed at the overly designed gold arranged on the neck of a headless manequin. But somehow I was brought to look at a few men, perhaps about seven of them, huddling over one man, their friend, holding a bracelet.

One look at them, you can probably tell the kind of work they do. Unruled hair, untidy clothes, skin dry and hard probably exposed to the scorching sun too long. The bracelet man, let's call him that, was looking and admiring at the gold. Asked for approval, which is not really needed, from his friends.

Nod! Nod! They answered obligingly. Closer huddle.

There, at the other end of the counter is a well dressed man. Mr. Salesman his name is. He was punching some numbers in his big calculator. Then he turned the machine to them so that they can see how much the bracelet cost. He looked disinterested with this group. He wasn't even focusing to the bracelet man. His eyes were everywhere, except the bracelet man.

Ahhh he was sure bracelet man would not buy the bracelet in the end. It's too expensive for him. Plus it is really a cheap bracelet. He doesn't even care if he doesn't make this sale.

Then, bracelet man decided that perhaps he need a second option. He pointed into the glass box. Another bracelet. A thinner one this time.

Mr. Salesman, without a smile on his face, punched something into his machine and routinedly showed it to them.

Further huddles. Discuss. Discuss. Shake heads. And one of the seven men said something.

Then bracelet man said something nice to Mr. Salesman. Like, I will think about it. Next time maybe. Have a nice day. Or maybe he said fuck you. I don't know.

To you too.

They went out of the shop noisily discussing something in a language I do not understand.

I don't know why, but I find this scene rather romantic.

Bracelet man is probably a man who had to leave his wife, his family, the things he loved, his country to come here and earned some money. Money that his country cannot provide for him. He had to live in the country where people do not care about him. If he falls in a ditch and die, he would be just another face in the mortuary. He had to live in an uncomfortable crowded house without a woman in his life. (I am not sure whether you can resort to other woman here. Let's not talk about that okay. I am trying to be romantic).

It's probably time for him to go home. What can be a better symbol of appreciation and love and hard earned money's worth than gold to his wife, to him at least.

These men had probably from gone one gold shop to another, surveying for the cheapest but yet the nicest piece of jewellery. I find this rather touching. All the effort dragging the many men along, to find that piece of gold for his awaiting wife. He could have just pointed out the cheapest and go off. Why bother eh?

The bothering is what I find romantic.

I hope his wife appreciates it.

Woman's Wiles

In this manner she pleaded with gentle coaxing,
The while her tears fell upon her cheeks.
How could his firmness and endurance abide
When even without tears she could charm his heart?
That rain brought forth a flash of lightning
Which kindled a spark in the heart of that poor man.
Since the man was the slave of her fair face,
How was it when she stooped to slavish entreaties?
When she whose airs set thy heart a-quaking,
When she weeps, how feelest thou then?
When she whose coquetry makes thy heart bleed
Condescends to entreaties, how is it then?
She who subdues us with her pride and severity,
What plea is left us when she begins to plead?
When she who traded in naught but bloodshed
Submits at last, ah! what a profit she makes!
God has adorned them "fair in the sight of men;"
From her whom God has adorned how can man escape?
Since He created him "to dwell together with her,"
How can Adam sever himself from his Eve?
Though he be Rustum, son of Zal, and braver than Hamza,
Yet he is submissive to the behests of his dame.
He by whose preaching the world was entranced

Mawlana Rumi

In the Mall..

In the biggest shopping mall here, I cannot find a single dedicated bookstore.

But I can find eleven, yes eleven, DEDICATED lingerie boutiques!

Various sizes.

Let's talk about life priorities.

Oh la la.


Espet@da in Nand0s. Giant kebab on an enormous metal hanging spike.

Sigh..... Batrisyia

Lantern lighting up the path at Al Kh0r beach

I got the news today. About Sya.

Sya was not accepted into the school that I wanted her to enroll in.

Sigh....

I am quite disappointed. I am sad and disappointed at the same time.

I wanted that school because first of all it is a good school. Actually I wanted this school for both of them. But there is just no place for any of them. But still, it is a good school.

Secondly, it is the school that Haziq attends to. Logistics! Logistics! At the moment since Batrisyia goes to different schools, which is opposite direction to each other, we had to hire two drivers. If they are in the same school, logistics would be easier, not to mention cheaper. And them being in the same school, saves a lot of other things including term holidays. (some schools have different timing).

Thirdly and probably one of the important reason is that school placement is really difficult. Really really difficult now. Especially for good school.

BIG SIGHhhhhhhhhh.

Batrisyia had to go through an entrance test last Sunday. Which she didn't make it. I saw the paper. She needs to be able to read the instruction to do it. At some point there was an oral test and she had to read a passage. She can only identify a few words. (actually I am amaze that she remembered those words. Hooray!)It was quite a few pages and I was already worried. You see Batrisyia could not read just yet.

And also, and also *hangs head* Batrisyia doesn't speak much English.

You know, being a mother and all, I partly blame my self for her inadequacies(?). I did try to teach her to read, but she is not as responsive as her brother. I had it easy with Haziq, so I became impatient with her. *hangs head*

Plus I thought she is still too young. What's the rush?

And also, I speak to her mostly in Malay for I feel more comfortable speaking in my own language with my kids. Thus..she doesn't speak much english, making it tougher for her here.

But she doesn't have problem with her school. Because they do understand she being a non-english speaking person, english would be her second language. And plus since coming here, she is picking up. Her friends are all truly english girls. (She hates the boys. She only wants to marry her brother remember?)

I thought she would definitely have improved coming over. Which she has. She has. But we signed in school late, miss one term and went back to Malaysia for two months, and I didn't do anything about both her reading and her english, and suddenly two weeks back and an entrance test!

A test that she didn't make through.

Sometimes I think it is not the not being able to get the school that I am bothered with. It is the rejection that saddens me.

I know this could well be a blessing in disguise. I hope to be able to say, it is the school's loss, not mine. Well, I'd like to think so. But I won't be able to do it in this just a few hours after the news.

I am trying other schools tomorrow. Do wish me luck.

Infectious Infection

My lover has a very bad eye infection. The week that I got back he got it on his left eye on the upper lid. Dia kena tembel.

It has not fully recovered yet, the left eye, a few days later, his right eye got infected as well. He woke up one morning and his right eye was puffy and red. He looked like he was beaten up to pulp the night before. Trust me it wasn't me. Sadist and strange acts are not my kind of scene. This tembel ni tak ada punat. Macam terbantut aje growth dia. Tapi bengkak tak tentu arah.

What made it worst was that, both the eyes have not recovered and again his left eye, this time on the lower lid, got another huge tembel. You can even see the pus coming out of it.

He went to see the company's doctor three times. Finally he gave up and went to see the opthamologist. His right eye is still swollen and red today.

The doctor said this can be infectious.

Oh! Oh!

You know with all the things infectious, somehow, sometime we can immediately feel the effect. Like if you are sitting in the same room with a person whom you just found out has lice on her head. You would probably start feeling itchy and scratch your head. Yeah something like that.

So, I think I too have the eye infection. I woke up and I felt a tiny, no, make that a huge throb on my left eye. Called my lover and demanded that he come home before my eyes get as swollen as his! He came home alright but after work he did! But we went to the clinic anyway. Doctor said I have no eye infection.

I despise doctors!

Anyway last night we went out. I thought, just feeling a little goody self after the doctor event and all, why not apply some eye shadow for a different look. I had two colours. Light purple and dark purple. I chose light. I thought I look ok. Bat eyes! In fact not bad. Not bad at all.

Haziq got in the room. One look at me and he went crazy! Eyes as wide as a saucer he went on,

"Ayah! Ayah! Ibu is now really infected. Look! Look at her eyes! Dah bengkak dah!"

Well happy mother's day y'all.

Faster I am

So now I am now in this untemporary house, be happy for me and the betterment of my virtual life. I am happy to note that this expensive broadband is actual money saving scheme for lover.

Remember my slow expensive prepaid horrors? For QR4 per hour and the snailish movement it offer, I have actually spend more than QR200 a month in the name of being sane.

I am now at 512kbps (but somehow it says 640kbps) at a fixed QR200 a month.

So yay! I am a happier person now. All that grumbling, no RP, no car, no house, slow connection are behind me now.

The question is now..I am so excited I nearly forgot what to do.

Ironing! That's what I need to do. I need to iron the piled up clothes. Tada for now.

---

Some links for the kids
BBC for children.
online books for kids.
cartoon network games.

I know there are the barbie links, myscene what not. Everybody with little girls seem to have that. Any more great sites? For me perhaps.

My new Harem

So we have moved to a new house. My lover moved to this new place when I was back in Malaysia. I must say that I am not exactly very happy with this house. I hope I don't sound arrogant, but migrating to another country as an expat('s wife), I do expect to live in a modest villa, at least, good community and so forth.

But the very fact is, Q@tar's house rent is increasing at a crazy rate for the last two years. It went so bad that an ulamak actually came out with a fatwa that it is haraam to increase rent incessantly. (I tried goggling but couldn't find this fact).But did they listen?

Last year the government even had to put a new law that house rent can only be increased at 10% annually. Welcoming gesture maybe especially comparing to the fact that some landlords increase rent every few months but 10% is still a big number. If a house is at QR12,000, 10% can still be a huge sum to many.

Sure the housing allowance is adequate (just) but to rent the kind of house that I like is not enough. Most of the houses that I like always fall in the category QR12,000 above. Just call me tasteful. I know.

But I am wary (and not that selfish) that the purpose coming over is to settle the mounting debts we suffered. So I compromised. I do not want to stay in a apartment here, ever! The apartments here have no facilities at all. No playground, not to mention club house and a pool. With three growing bouncing kids, I do not think it is healthy. I certainly do want to be crammed up with three whining children. The last choice is a small house a bit further from the main area, preferably furnished.

Lover is given a fixed amount of housing allowance, so we can save some if we get something cheaper. Some people rent apartment and used the extra money for other things. Some used the exact amount and stayed at a modest house (this I like actually). Some even topped up for a good place. (This I like also but no way I want to top up. Not now)

So this is my compromised house. Not my choice but well it is fully furnished and we can save some money. Oh well..

This is the gate from the outside. You are looking at the house. This is actually an individual two-story villa with an unimaginative choice of colour. It has a maid house outside. The clever landlord renovated this house so that he can make three houses out of it. There is a British family renting upstairs, there is a Filipino couple renting at the maid's house. I am renting at the ground floor. Overall he made about QR20,000 for otherwise perhaps QR11,000. So as you can see, I had to park outside for there is no parking space for everyone inside.




My living area and the dining place could have been the actual dining area for this house. So as you can see the dining are is a bit crammed. Otherwise you could fit in an 8-seater dining table with good display wardrobes as well.

I am in a project now called House-to-home. At the moment this is still a house, not yet a home. I may not like the place but I will learn to live in it. I started by purchasing plants. See it in the photo? The room does look nicer with greenies. Perhaps a nice timepiece on the TV display. Carpets. Sexy throws on the couch for the feminine touch. Beautiful stout candles will be placed strategically for sprinkles of smells.

I would love to paint the wall at the dining area deep luscious dark red for that strong romantic look. And hand some pieces with golden frames. The table cloth will be a heavy red jacquard fabric with another golden embroidered tablecloth placed diagonally. There shouldn't be any ornament on the table for it is too small. It would not be practical.

The area can do with carpets to anchor the place down. One big pillow for the relaxed Bedouin look along with a tall elegant shisha to to smoke pot from.

There are three rooms in my house. My room is actually the guest room, which is a modest size. It can fit a king size bed, wardrobe and a dressing table. The other two rooms are really big though. The two rooms was actually a big spacious living room split into two. They are so big, each can fit a king size bed, two single beds, wardrobe, dressing table and still floor space. Imagine the actual living room size. So Elisa, I think the room would fit all six of you quite comfortably. ;)

The kitchen is spacious. Pity it doesn't have a top cabinet. That made it difficult to hide away snacks from the kids. And they did not arrange the sink, stove and fridge in the essential triangle point way. Well I can live with that. I plan to get a small breakfast table to put in the kitchen.

But the view as I get out of the house is just terrible. It is white. It is glaring. Not to mention, the reflective white hoarding the neighbour put in front of the house to stop prying eyes. Ah! Eye sore!

I bought some creeping jasmines and hope to add some green to the wall later. I know that's a long way to go. I think i want to get those fake turf and put it on the tiled lawn and perhaps create a playing area. More taller green plants to be placed near the wall to add shades of green and some bushes at corners of the high fence. Too bad all has to be potted. Which I do not like actually. Potted plants are not so good especially on hot tiles.

So as I said, I will try to make this as much as a home as I can. At least for a year, then I am outta here. The speculation is that the rent would come down after the Asian games, where most people would be out of Q@tar. Seeing that many new houses are coming up, perhaps the speculation would be true.

Meanwhile, I am set for a red gold middle-eastern harem. Imagine lollies in pink-purple sheer feeding her lover grapes. Dangles of gold on her arm jingles along with her teasing laugh. Three cherubics occassionally fly around adding love in the air.

A small harem yes but the goddess is always at an arms reach. Goddess is content.

For now.

40th day

It's the 40th of my mum passing today. Now that I am here, I felt that she is actually still around. The last two months was just a mere thought. A bad nightmare perhaps. I felt that she is still doing the same thing she did. She would wake up early, cook up a bit, take a light morning nap, wakeup for lunch, and watch her cooking shows and probably chat with my dad. Then later in the evenings, light chat with the neighbours, talking about their worries, their kids. Dinner and later early sleep.

I usually YM my dad at about 9 to 10 Malaysian time. My mum was usually asleep so I didn't chat with her. Even now as I chat with my dad, I felt that she is there. Sleeping. But I can see my dad's face on the webcam. A lonely man he is. I know she is not around.

Going about here in this big car reminded me of my mum even more. I specified to my lover, I wanted a big car, an eight-seater car, comfortable even with eight adults. We have planned for my parents to come for the next eid. I imagine taking my parents to the probably numerous open houses around here. I imagine them at the back being trampled over by my kids. Yes the car is big but my kids would still cramp themselves between them. I imagine also that my mum would have trouble climbing up and down the car, and my dad would hold her hand, carefully making sure she does not trip over. And I'd probably take photos of them in the car, outside the car, behind, at the front. And them too. They'll take photos of them and the kids with the car as the background. In front the house. At the corniche. At the souqs. Everywhere.

Yes, I still wake up in the middle of the night thinking about her. Yes, I still cry when I think of her. Yes, I miss her very much.

Al Fatehah.

Night picnic at Al Kh0r Beach

Okay so I complained that it is hot. It is indeed very hot during the day, but it is okay during the night, when the sun shied away. It is almost like Malaysia except for the humidity.

It is a good time for night picnic indeed. Enjoying the weather before it sizzles in summer. So that's what we did last night. We went for a picnic, at Al Kh0r beach. I put up a map of Qtar here so you can set your bearing of the whereabouts I am. I live in D0ha. The capital of Q@tar. See it on the map? Al Kh0r is at the North East of Q@tar. It is about 40 minute journeys there.


I was hoping to camp there though and bought all the camping gear needed, but the rest of the people didn't want to stay. Hmmppfff! The kids were all looking forward to it too. Well maybe next time, a different company perhaps.



We reach there at 6 plus. It was really dark. To get to the beach is another 10 minute drive on a rough road with no light whatsoever. I couldn't get my bearing right and couldn't tell the difference between the sea and land. Everything was dark.

After makan-makan (dinner), which I brought soto, nasi impit, ayam siat and peanut sauce also, some of the group went crabbing. Apparenly this is what they do at this beach. The tide was coming up, but it was shallow. Even JackJack could walk off to the middle of somewhere. Haziq and some new found friends found four crabs. I didn't find anything for I was not looking for anything.

I was enjoying the cooling breeze, looking at the pitch black sky and admiring the streaks of clouds making faint pattern of lines. The shimmering faint cloud seems to align itself towards an invisible point, which I found quite hallucinating. The water is very clear. I can't tell the colour for it was just black in the night. It was only half moon but it was enough to glitter the sea white at the other end.

I let the kids wet themselves crazy in the waters of the Persian Gulf. Light their path with a lantern. It was dark! The sea seems still too. There is virtually no wave. Al Khor is a bit secluded from the Gulf anyway.

Some of the adults went even further to the middle of the sea to look for crabs. From afar I can see the dancing light of their torch sporadically. Occasionally I looked at the land and heard laughter of people and look at the smoke coming out of the bbq pit.

I have never felt lonelier in a crowd.

---

I didn't take much photos for it was dark. But I read, Al Kh0r, an old fishery village, is quite picturesque. Next time perhaps. Preferably when it is not dark.

IT IS HOOOTTTTTTT HERE

Mak oi..panasnya kat sini! Oh my God it is hot here in the middle east. The land of the deserts and camel and the extra closer sun. At least that's what I think. The BBC weather check says the highest temperature is 39C and the lowest is 24C. I thought I saw it reaching 44C the other day.

Since everything is in white, everything glares under the sun. I squint and frown when I go out under the hot sun. I broke my Gucci shades. Damn!

It is so hot, even the water tap is hot. The heater is not on, mind you. I try to take shower preferbally before 7:30 in the morning. Any later the water will be too hot, almost to the point of scalding.

I also try to avoid doing big business in the afternoon, for the hot water, ouch, is a real pain in the ass, I must say. And when you flush down. you can actually feel the warm sensation on your bum.

Washing dishes at noon is also avoided. I usually wash the easier ones and use that scrub thing with a handle. Ouch! Ouch my hand!

During winter, I sometime save my ablution because it was freezing and I am too lazy to go through the freezing weather. And now again I try not to expel any intestinal gas through the anus.

Thank Goodness for the ceramic tiles, at least that's cooling. I cursed the ceramic tiles during winter. Oh I foresee love hate relationship with them tiles.

And they say, the worst is yet to come. During full blown summer, they say lah kan, they would usually collect water at night for it to cool down so that it is possible to take bath the next day. Oh dear.

But all these heat will not stop me from going out I suppose, for tomorrow I plan to go camping overnight at Al-KhOr beach. Depending on the weather of course, otherwise it will be a mere night picnic.

:-D

Lover got teasing

I am back here. Give a squeaky shout! Squeak! Squeak! Back to lover's strong arms. I am not going to tell you about that though.

I want to tell you what my lover had to go through on the last week before I came back. Nearly all his friends knew that I, my lover's mistress, was to come back sometime at the end of April. And my oh my didn't he get lots of teasing from everyone.

He was teased during usrah. He was teased during his Arabic classes. He was teased after the Friday prayers. He was teased whenever there was any Malaya gathering.

They were teasing that lover was always dreaming. Unable to concentrate on anything.

They were saying that they can't get near to lover for he exudes too much static energy of some sort.

Whenever lover stutter trying to say something, they would love hysterically saying that lover was already losing his mind. Can't focus.

Lover also missed his Saturday arabic class (I was back) because I told him not to go. *winks* And that very night, Mr. Mail had bbq, which we went. The moment we get off the car, they were already smiling. Big big knowing smile. Including the makciks. Ayoyo! Naturally they all teased him about missing his arabic class.A pakcik pat him at the back and said. Tired eh?

For the whole night I felt like a newly married couple. Even worst actually. When I was newly married, at least people have to decency to stop at smiling.

If any of you (been married for more than two years) need to feel like a newly married couple where everyone tease you, you should try to stay apart for at least two months. And you should come back with lots of anticipation and "kegatalan"