I am here

I am here. You cannot imagine how thankful I am that we all are here.

When I was here pulling strings to come back home, everyone here in malaysia had their fair share too.

My mum was and is still in coma.

She had a very badly infected leg which somehow had triggered her bad fever. This led to fit and was in a state of coma. When she was admitted, her condition was considered not stable. Her heart beat was getting lower while her blood preesure was getting higher. Her kidneys are not functioning and she is still on the dialysis. She needed assistance to breathe, thus the machine.

The doctor felt that her infected legs must be amputated. Perhaps the only way to save her. Having said that they certainly took a long time to do this. Her condition worsen. My aunts were shouting and my uncle had to pull string to get this done. My dad, I was told, just could not do anything. He was still in a state of shock.

When I got back they already had her right leg removed.

Despite her condition is stable now, looking at her lying there with tubes and still on the machine is something I cannot bear.

Are we all selfish? We want the best for her and we want her to be back with us. But how will she have a good life with the frequent dialysis she has to do and everything else. She knew this very fact that her leg would be removed that she just refused to go to the hospital..Oh Ibu..

Sometimes I don't even know what to pray for her. All I want is for her not to feel any pain and it would be easy for her.

Amin.

Q@tar Airways,11:15p.m

The thing that I feared most is the very thing that is happening to me right now.

It had been a desperate sad days for us. Yesterday we just couldn't get the means and ways for me to secure my passport. We can get our passports, but because myself and the kids still do not possess this RP, we won't be able to come back easily over here. We had to wait for a long time for a new entry visa if we do go back now. The earliest we can get our passports is on Sunday.

But Sunday, could be too late.

Even my lover had problem. Despite he already has an RP, he is not confirmed yet. Thus disabling him to apply for an exit permit. Another procedure to exit the country.

Even at 5 yesterday we were at wits end thinking whose strings we can pull to get us out of here. Irregardless, I was ready to go out and take the risk of not able to enter the country as fast as we would want.

I also wanted to take the chance of going there myself and make a lot of shouting and crying if necessary. I am desperate. When one is desperate they are willing to do just about anything. Have you watched John Q? I don't think I will go to that extent. But I was determined to do something.

But today, fate has it, that we found people who can help. And at the moment I am typing this, my lover is coming back home with our passports which has an RP attached to it. Shukur shukur. I have never been as thankful as this.

I am leaving the earliest flight tonight. Q@tarAirways. 11:15p.m.. I'll be in Malaysia tomorrow at 12 p.m.

The weather it seems is as sad as I am now. Yesterday, the normal Q@tar blue sky and bright shining sun seemed to shy away. It was dark yesterday. It was gloomy. It seems to understand what was going through in me.

I was helpless. There was never any good news when I called. Even earlier, my dad told me my mum's heartbeat has paced lower. I cried with my dad on the phone.

All I want is to be with her now. All I want is to be with my dad

Early this morning it rained here. Thunder and lightning. It does rain here in Q@tar. It is still raining now.

I cried so much, I have almost drained all the tears. I am slowly trying to take a grip of what is happening and what am I to expect.

All I want is to be there in time. If miracle has it that she is conscious again, I am more than thankful.

Ibu, I am coming home. Just wait for me Ibu. Wait for me.

I am here, she is there

I am here

and she is there

I am here

And she is there

I am here

And she is there

My mother is there

Fighting for her life

I am here

Not even sure whether she is even fighting

I am here

Waiting for the bureaucracies

I am still here

Waiting for my passports

She is there

Am not sure whether she will wait

I am here

Feeling helpless


Oh Ibu
Dapat kiranya aku kucup pipimu
Aku ingin cium kakimu ibu
Aku ingin mintak ampun ibu
Tunggu anakmu ibu
Anakmu akan kembali

Ya Allah permudahkanlah perjalananku ini
Aku serahkan kepadaMu apa yang terbaik untuk ibuku
Sesungguhnya aku redha

Carless

We have been without a car ever since we got here, which is 2 months and 9 days today. Among the reasons why we have no car just yet are first of all my lover has no RP. RP for an expatriate is almost equivalent to life. So we can't buy a car. But that is another story, we do not possess a Q@tari driving license. This is must for you to drive here. If you come from the States and probably from UK and Europe, your driving license can be converted immediately. Even if you come from Sing@pore, the country where not many people can drive cars, your license can be immediately converted to a Q@tari license. Unfortunately being the head of OIC and good relations with the Middle East countries do not give Malaysians the privilege to just convert our licenses. (I will blog about driving tests and licenses later.)

What make me feel like banging my head on the wall is we forgot to make an International Driving License before we came here. Bangs head on wall. Bangs head on wall. International driving license can be used for up to six months here. If we have it we could at least rent a car. But fate has it, we didn't bring it over. However we did send our licenses back to my father in law, for him to make the licenses on behalf of us.

We were luck though. The first few weeks we were here, we had Mr. Drive Fast and his wife Ms. Fashion Designer, who drove us around. They helped us buy our basic stuff, pots and pans, dining sets, basic groceries, basic electrical items and all that. They were also the ones who took us to the Embassy and people's open houses. We were ever grateful for their thoughtful help.

Later we took the taxi mostly. Taxis are not very efficient here. We only go to a major shopping complex because it will be easier for us to go back home, since there would be many taxis. Once we had to go to a place out of the shopping complex way to buy Haziq's school uniform. We waited for a taxi to go back home for hours. In the cold, dusty wind with three little children, it is such a drag. I probably wouldn't' mind as much if I were alone or just the two of us. Then came an illegal taxi which my lover didn't want to get in. The second one came, my lover still refused. When the third one came, I said I don't care anymore!

Just last week, we called the taxi to go out. For two days in a row, no taxi came at all. We waited for two hours!

There is also the bus service, which I have not tried. I am eager to try that one. Perhaps this weekend.

But then, read this people.

Yesterday we got our International Driving License. Yippeeee!

We are now proud renter of a Honda Civic.

But that's not all.

My lover also has got his RP!

YEEEE HAAAAARRRRR

Things To do on Friday

I have to tell you this. I was dead bored during the children's Fardhu Ain class. For two hours I do nothing except light chat with the ladies and glance whether my food is finished or not. I mean the ladies are all nice. As a matter of fact is they are all very, very nice ladies.

First of all coming here, I must get myself use to talking to ladies. In my line of work I am used to interact with men. Not many ladies in my department really. My close friends are mostly man. But well I can get myself use to this.

But talking about what they cook last night or what they will cook next week or how they make the curry puff pastry so crispy but yet soft can be a bit hard on me sometimes. Not that I don't welcome cooking tips, I just wanted more than this. Light chatting about who does what and what my kids do are also okay. But is this all I will do every Friday? Gulp!

I could first off all stay at home of course. No one is forcing me to go and join them. Now that Haziq was rejected from the Fardhu Ain class because apparently he is too young. (!@#%^&*!!!!) I don't even have to go there. Plus I don't need to do the pot luck, which would be easier.

But somehow, I still need to be out. To be with other people. Regardless they are group of ladies. It may not be my first choice of friends, but I can always get along. I can do what the Romans do.

So I thought, we should do something during the Fardhu Ain class. Something more beneficial perhaps. Then I remembered Ms. Salw, one of the ladies there. I happen to find out that she is good in tajweed. So I toyed with the idea of having a tajweed or a quran session among the ladies. I was still toying with the idea, when Ms. Salw, unannounced, came to my house one night. Without thinking I popped the idea to her and she gleefully accepted the idea.

But Ms. Salw is really a humble person. She was worried. She didn't want to give people the impression that she is clever by accepting being the teacher. Don't you just love her humble self? She said she is not cleverer than any of us. I said but we are all here to share. Perhaps each of us can learn something from one another. Each of us is a teacher in our own way. In fact that very night I thought her how to google. My only talent.

I also dared myself to go further. Oh dear! Oh dear! I usually am not like this. I said to Ms. Salw, I was thinking if time does permit us on Friday, I would like to do a little read aloud to the "straying" children. She was delighted and excited. She wants it done only in English. She said she like her children to pick up more English words.

So that Friday we started off with three ladies. A few other ladies heard about it and thought of coming in next Friday. Most of the ladies here are already in a formal tajweed class. It is very unfortunate for people like me with little children, can't go, because the class is during working days and on working hours. So if more of these ladies are in the class, we can share even more and perhaps their notes as well. Heh heh. I learned a lot. Ms. Salw was patient, admirable and excellent. She made the class very relax because she doesn't rush things. I wish I have all her attributes.

I read "A Very Busy Spider by Eric Carle" because first I like the book and second it is the only one I have. It is an easy book for the young kids though. So it went well especially for a first timer. The children and I (except my own kids) are first timers. Haziq volunteered to recite two poems and Ms. Salw learned two new words – School's out from Haziq's poem and dimple because I pointed out that her daughter has beautiful dimples.

In my opinion this will do Ms. Salw good because I believe everyone needs to do something that belongs to oneself. Something that one can give to everybody. People acknowledge that it's yours. And soon will be recognize as an individual rather than somebody's wife. (I do not know about the other ladies, but I find this rather annoying.) I heard the embassy is looking for someone who can teach children Quran, so who knows. Let's wish her well.

As for me. Well, I don't have any talent. The only thing I do well is manipulate. I manipulate people so I can gain something in the end. In this case I hope to tap Ms. Salw's brain and the other ladies' notes. Look at me ladies & Gentlemen. Look at me biting my little finger at the corner of my mouth and occasionally laughing. MUAHAHAHAH MUAHAHAHAHA MUAHAHAHA

Shamal Day

The view outside the main door during a minor shamal

Today is a shamal day. Not that it is anything to celebrate though. Shamal is in fact a natural hazard very typical in the middle east region. Shamal is sand or/and dust storm. Today it was dust storm. They are often driven by fierce northwest wind called shamal wind. What else should the wind be called? These winds scour the dust and sand off the surface and loft it into the air.

What I saw was dark sky and strong hailing wind. It was not a scary one. I think it can be worst. You don't see any dust nor sand flying around though. But walking outside today to the Fardhu Ain class you can feel the sand in your face and eyes. My lover who wears contact complains of discomfort and dusty eyes. I am having slight sore throat. My hands felt dusty.

I think due to this frequent sand/ dust storm in this region people here wear what they wear. Just think about it, wearing a veil would definitely keep the dust away from your face and most importantly your nostrils. The men can cover their face with the headscarve they wear.

Oh I forgot to close the kitchen window and there was dust all over the sink, pipes and floor.

But for those who work at site, like my lover, would have it worst. He works at a port at the north of Qtar called R@s L@ff@n. He says there are orange tint everywhere like a bad bad haze..and it is difficult to breathe. He was coughing for weeks. He needs a mask more than the one we used for the Malaysian haze. He needs that mask with the oxygen tank that made you look like you are an alien and talk like Darth Vader.

So I can't go out today and the kids cannot play outside. It doesn't look healthy.

Pot luck menu - Fried rice with those bird chillies and anchovies and prawn. 2L of teh tarik

Oh What A Game

Yesterday Haziq was playing ball with Batrisyia outside the house. I was reading, "Reading Lolita in Tehran" and Jack was running about. Then came two Indian boys or Pakistanis, I don't know, I can't tell the difference. They probably are about Haziq's age or slightly older. Of course children hit off quite well. No introduction needed between them. They played football with Haziq or rather they played among themselves because they are good at dribbling. Haziq is still new to the game or he is also in the making of "kaki bangku" like his dad.

Then Sya got bored and a bit angry because obviously she can't get the ball at all. So I went inside to take another ball. Another girl next door was there so they can kick or throw the ball at each other and leave the boys with their rougher game.

When I went out Haziq was not there anymore so I figured they were bored and Haziq went to play with them instead. So I kicked ball with the girls.

Somehow I turned left where there is little bush across the road. I saw Haziq with his hand raised and the two boys were standing in front of him facing him. One of them had a gun pointing at Haziq's head!

I was shocked! Terrified! In fact, scared!

I shouted, "WHAT KIND OF GAMES ARE YOU PLAYING??!!! STOP POINTING THE GUN AT HIM!" My hands on my hips and probably looking very angry.

The boy with the gun answered, "It's not loaded!"

I said, "I don't care if it is not loaded. You are not playing that game!"

Oh I so wanted to smackhis head. I so wanted to take the gun and crash it to the ground. I didn't.

If the boys answered again I will walked to them and give more earful but they scampered off.

My heart stopped pumping and everything froze when I saw this. Okay it is a toy gun (I assumed) that looks frigging real. It's like a scene in a movie.

I was angry at the boys. The game was disgusting to me! I have never seen children playing that kind of game. They looked so, so, so adult and at one moment so evil.

I was angry at Haziq. He is a gentle boy, Haziq. He doesn't do violent. Oh sure I am no goody parent either. Of course I have bought him toy guns before. He does shoot around with his friends. But never, never at close range with the "victim" hands raised like that.

I was angry at Haziq because in my perspective those are plain bullying and Haziq had allowed him being bullied probably thinking that he was just playing along.

I was angry at myself also because I felt that I should have said more. I am furious.

I told Haziq to me the two kids were bullying him. I also told him never, ever allow anyone to make you play the victim with a game as repulsive as that! Oh Haziq got an earful alright.

What terrifyme most is will Haziq always be open for bullying when I am not around to "protect" him? Oh I am terrified.

Oh friends, am I being paranoid or over reacting? Are those just boys game? Should I just let Haziq play along with whatever game? Should I even interfere? Should I allow him to toughen him up and make him ready to face the real world?

I do not like violent game. I somehow saw that the game was a seed to violence.

What happen to normal games nowadays?

Capitalist Internet Prepaid Dial Up

Capitalist Internet Prepaid Dial Up

First of all before I go on putting up this entry, let it be known to the world that I am thankful that I can be connected. I am. I am. For which, otherwise, I would be cooped up thinking what is happening outside. I am thankful.

But it would be much better if they don't suck me dry the way they are doing now!!! HMMMfffttttttt

Now the background knowledge. Due to the fact that my lover still does not possess his Residential Permit (RP), we cannot apply for an ADSL. However, having said that, even if he already has an RP now, now at this very moment I am typing this, we still cannot apply for an ADSL because we know that the house we are living in now is only a temporary one. We will be moving out the latest in May.

Anyway, again I iterate, I am thankful that life is not doom for those with the excuses as above. There is still light at the end of the tunnel. Regardless that it may be an oncoming train. But light, there is.

I am using a prepaid internet card. The card only comes in by QAR50. It costs QAR4 per hour. Let's not convert any currency. Let's just think of it as it charges you 4 per hour, be it pounds, lire or ringgit. The maximum speed it'll reach is 44kbps, but this is rare.

It's okay really the charging of this amount. If I can still recall my maths with my rusty brain, with QAR50 in a card and assuming I am connected 2 hours a day. So 2 hours make QAR8 a day. Thus errr 50/8 = 6.25. A good one week approximately eh? Considering I could get my basic needs for 2 hours a day. After all my lover said please be prudent with the card.

Definition of prudent for me now is updating blog, reading and replying comments, visiting friends only blog and comment, NO BLOGHOP on people I don't know yet, checking emails, sending new ones, chatting with friends tops 30 minutes (while reading other people's blog), chatting with dad and mum, Allowing Haziq to chat with my dad for 30 minutes top every other day, googling for important things only, noting fanciful. No intensive research can be made.

Try using this card. It is amazing if I could ever achieve what the prudent things that I can do. You know why?

It takes 15 minutes to load a page and sometimes when it does load up and you are about to read it, it goes kaput. The you have to click go so many times, you almost give up. Then another 10 minutes for the comments to come out and another 10 minutes for you to add comments and that is being kind. Not to mention if you want to post an entry. Worst still if you have photos.

Then you may want to proceed reading other people's blog. The whole routine will follow. To even load up the google page takes ages!

At the rate this is going I had used about QAR400 a month which is a good 2MB ADSL. Grrrr. And that is why I call it a capitalist. I have no choice but to use it and I got poorer and not get the best service I could get with the same amount of money.

P/S : I am waiting for the moment that lover will shout and said you are burning money for nothing!

Marhaba(n)

One of the important books to read when you got here is the Marhaba book. It has all information for newcomers from the where to go and what to see and what to shop to list of schools and information on petroleum and gas industry in world in general and in Qtar specifically.

From the book I gather that marhaba in Arabic means hello or greetings of welcome of sort. After a while here and also after watching TV with Arabic subtitle, I can see when the word is used correctly and also the way it is spelt in Arabic font. (Why is it that I still look at the subtitle even though I know bloody well that I can't read Arabic?) .

I also am forced to watch some cartoons which are in Arabic but with English subtitle. Now this is a good way to listen to how the word is pronounced.

The word is spelt مرحبا with a dua baris atas at the با. . Sometimes I dengar orang sebut marhaba tapi most of the time dia sebut marhaban. Memanglah sebutannya marhaban. Cuma kalau kita baca Quran pun dan bila kita nak wakafkan با yang ada dua baris atas tu kita akan sebutnya sebagai ba dengan bacaan dua harakat.

Tapi biasalah saya dengar dia orang sebut marhaban. Thus marhaban means hello.

Then a thought crossed my mind. Is this marhaban yang means hello ni is the same marhaban yang kat Malaysia I know orang buat kenduri ada selawat and that melodious puji-pujian kepada nabi tu?

Hmm if it is, I cannot see the context of the meaning in that majlis. Does it mean welcome or good greetings? Why is it call marhaban?

Do you know?

Relativity

When I came here sometime in the middle of December, it was quite cold. It's not freezing cold but it is definitely colder. Malaysia's temperature is about 28-32C at lower ground. Thus 10-13C can be cold to me. Especially when the wind is blowing.

I learned that different people have different threshold level and susceptibility to coldness, depending where they come from.

One fine breezy evening I wanted to take the children for a walk in the compound. The wind was blowing hard. Considering that it is quite cold so I put on a jacket and put jumper on the kids. It was cold alright. My ears felt stiff.

I saw a lady, presumably she was from Europe or even the States or whichever country much colder than here. She was wearing sleeveless shirt, short skirt and barefooted even. I felt so overdressed.

But I guess I am ok. My next door neighbour whom I assumed is also from another equator country, must be really freezing.

Their kids even wear ski mask and gloves!

Tapi sekarang dah panas!!!

Menu Pot Luck : Apple Crumble and custard sauce