Category Archives: Scribbles

Dear Beyoncé, what dress?

While I was fast asleep (in Kuwait), over 111 million people were glued to their television screens (or had the TV on in the background as they fought over chicken wings and passed the guacamole) watching the Super Bowl.

No, wait. I take that back. I hear all those people were in fact just enjoying Destiny’s Child’s reunion as the not-so-single ladies pounced around the stage and gave a stunning performance that revolved around a series of splits and spread eagles. I bet girls all around the world are already trying to fashion similar costumes out of trash bags, skimping on the extensive amounts of leather and lace used by Blue Ivy Carter’s mommy. Also, how and why are we calling that a dress? Isn’t undergarment the term we’re looking for?

But whether America loved or hated the risqué performance, we all know that the Super Bowl commercials are always the stars of the show. This year’s commercials did not wow, if anything they were disappointing. If I had to choose the best of the worst, I’d pick Best Buy’s Asking Amy as my favorite. The rest of the commercials simply revolved around celebrities and lacked oomph. In the absence of oomph and during an unexpected blackout, social media saved the day.

According to Twitter, the buzz about the power outage peaked at 231,500 tweets per minute. Parody accounts popped up, almost as good as those that were created during the presidential debate. Frank Caliendo tweeted, “Never use the toaster and the microwave at the same time during the Superbowl. #LightsOut” and Lance Ulanoff wrote, “This is a publicity stunt for Star Trek: Into Darkness#SuperBowl #Blackout”. But who won? According to SocialMediaToday, “Oreo Won the Advertising Super Bowl with a Single Tweet”.

Even before a power outage halted Super Bowl XLVII, it’s likely that many CMOs were pacing nervously as a seemingly runaway Baltimore Ravens victory threatened to undercut their second half television ad spends. While Twitter mostly devolved into snarky punditry and fake accounts for inanimate stadium features during the blackout, one savvy brand cut through the chatter with a simple, clever tweet and won the evening.

Oero Cookie

Image courtesy of Twitter

The fact that the cost of an ad during Super Bowl XLVII is around $3.7 million makes this social media win all the sweeter, especially since many of those brands who invested in :30 TV spots have been universally panned for crude humor and a lack of creativity.

I’m currently working in social media at an advertising agency (on a much smaller scale) and I am very impressed by Oreo’s fast response. They acted fast, got approvals and tweeted an image that received more positive engagement than their Cookie vs. Cream Super Bowl commercial. It may even have turned any negative sentiment toward that commercial which is supposedly similar to a scene in The Other Guys. It’s these moments that assert the power of social media in today’s world. Well, collective effort, team play and cooperation must have played a huge role in the Oreo tweet but who wants to hear about that? Blackout or no blackout, I think all those brands are going to produce exclusive online content next year to flood Twitter and Instagram. You know, just in case Dementors descend on the stadium to watch the big game

And when it comes to Oreo cookies, I say CREAM.

Drowning

I fail to comprehend the indifference that has taken hold of Kuwaitis.

All around me – my friends, my acquaintances – they inhale superficiality and exhale a dull disinterest that hangs in the air. It swarms around the country and clouds my vision; it gets in my way. It gets in your way, too. We breathe their carbon dioxide until we slowly succumb to their self-loathing and apathy. The lines are blurry, there is no wrong or right, we live for the moment. We cease to care. We are just like them. No. We have become ‘them’ – we are now one. One irrational, delusional society.

Hooked to a new perspective

Lately I’ve been hooked to this blog, where The Hook (a bellman in Canada) diligently tells his story. The blog made me very aware of my behavior while traveling, that is not to say that I am anywhere near as bad as the people he describes! But caught up in the moment, one can momentarily forget that the bellman, the receptionist, and even the waitress who forgets to refill your coffee, are all people with their own complicated lives and worries.

I cringe at haughty travelers who seem to think their money buys them the right to mistreat hotel or restaurant staff. Yes, you have paid a lot of money and you certainly should expect cordial treatment, but are you being equally respectful? I’ve often heard people complain that Kuwaitis think they’re entitled to a certain treatment when they travel or go out to eat. I think that’s a naïve statement, if not a clichéd rant everyone repeats without thinking. Entitlement, in this case, does not revolved nationality but is based on economic stature, and boils down to a simple haves versus the have-nots. It is only because a large number of Kuwaitis belong to a middle to upper economic class (the haves) that they are seen as entitled citizens. Abhorrent behavior toward servers and staff has no nationality – it stems from a lack of respect entrenched in years of supposed privileges.

I went off on a tangent there.

Back to the hospitality industry.

When I talk about mutual respect and cutting people some slack, I am not suggesting that one should be taken advantage of but there are ways to solve a problem without yelling, threatening and intimidating. I have to admit, I’ve lost my temper at restaurants before when my orders were completely messed up and the server strutted with a devil-may-care attitude – or worse a resentment toward the consumer for being able to afford that commodity. I have argued with waiters and managers, keeping my voice down at all times and stating the problem clearly without being condescending. I also try to give suggestions or tell them how they can fix the problem. There are times when the staff were receptive and happy to cooperate. At other times, I was forced to pay for services I completely dissatisfied with, vowing never to return or telling myself that I will write about the place or at least get the word out.

During my recent trip to Istanbul, I kept The Hook’s words in mind as I dealt with people in my hotel and in restaurants. For the most part, nothing happened for me to lose my patience, but for the first time  I found myself having short yet very real conversations with others, learning more about them and stopping to inquire about their day before they asked about mine. My sister and I established a good rapport with everyone at our hotel  (or maybe we were just staying at an excellent hotel, with well-trained staff!).

Next time you’re traveling keep in mind that first and foremost we are all humans, we all deal with similar problems and not one of us should assume they’re better than the other. The different roles we play — tourists, bellhops, waitresses, teachers, drivers — they’re all secondary.

On an unrelated but festive note:

Today marks the beginning of the new Islamic year. Although most Middle Eastern countries primarily follow the Gregorian calendar, it is nonetheless a time (as good as any!) to dwell on our life during the past year – if only to learn from our mistakes and think on what we would like to change in ourselves before we can change others. May you all have a prosperous, healthy year surrounded by your loved ones. May the coming days bring us all tolerance, justice and peace.

A flamenco journey

I have 30 minutes

before the Sleep Aid kicks in and this blog turns into the Chronicles of a Spaced Out Kuwaiti Woman.

Have you been wondering where I’ve been? Please say yes and indulge my fantasy (the one where I believe that some people check my blog on a regular basis and freak out when I don’t post for a day or two). I’ve been a little busy lately and to be honest I haven’t been inspired to write. The weather’s lovely during the day but I’m cooped up in a tiny cubicle that stagnates even the most brilliant of minds. So I leave work and I don’t want to stare another screen. But I end up in front of my laptop anyway, because I just can’t seem to remember what people did before The Golden Internet Era. I google holiday packages, hotels, restaurants. And salivate sigh. I’ve been really stressed out lately, hence the lack of sleep and my reliance on these magical little blue pellets that help me catch some much-needed Zs. I tend to ramble when I’m stressed – have you noticed?  I feel like I just need to get away for a bit.

Guess what happened the other day! I was out for a late lunch/early dinner and I ran into a tall, attractive man. The End.

I’m kidding.

So, I was at a small restaurant, chatting with a friend and enjoying my food when I noticed a handsome man who looked vaguely familiar standing not far from my table. “Oh I know that guy,” I blurted out to my friend. Fortunately, I was too far away for him to hear me. I quickly remembered that we did not part on the best terms (professionally speaking) and I suspect the guy of slander, too.

Seeing him made me think of how gullible I’ve been in the past, giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. Wait, I’ making it sound like I learnt something and changed, when in fact I haven’t. I am still quick to trust people despite the many metaphorical blows that some malicious characters have dealt me. O those blows. They left me reeling. Ironically though, I don’t think this a bad guy, or that he was out to hurt me. I think he (like so many others) truly believe that the only way they can get ‘ahead’ is by lying and making others seem inferior. In the past few years, I’ve had my fair share of his type. I may still be occasionally deceived by them (because they can be talented actors!) but I know better than to take it personally.

So I saw him — took a minute to recall what had transpired between us — and got back to my scrumptious dessert. Moral of the story? Dessert can’t wait.

On a completely unrelated note, I went to a great flamenco guitar concert tonight. The theatre was packed, but here’s a picture I managed to take.

A flamenco journey

The music was bold, bright and warm. It sounded like a walk through the cobblestoned Seville on a crisp October night.

Thursdays drain me

I’ve been up since 6 am (Thursday), I left the house at 6:35, spent an hour in traffic, took my nervous mother to hospital for her endoscopy, took my delirious mother back home, made her breakfast, drove to work, checked bibliographies, left work, went to pick up dessert for a gathering, then went hunting for gluten-free bread, I went to my grandma’s house and then the loud fiasco that is also known as my family gathering started, we had dinner at 10 pm (!!!) and I somehow managed to drive home at 11:30 pm singing loudly with Amy Winehouse to stay awake but repeatedly punching the steering wheel when I realized I had to stop for gas. It’s now 12:22 am (Friday) and I’m finally home.

What was your Thursday like?

For life and death are one

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

From Khalil Gibran’s “On Death”

Today my great-uncle left this world after a painful struggle with Alzheimer’s that lasted over a decade.

It was during his fight against this relentless disease that I was exposed to the appalling state of some of our hospitals and the general apathy toward mental illness. Most of us are misinformed and the lack of awareness is a real obstacle when trying to detect Alzheimer’s. I hope Kuwait organizes campaigns to tackle this issue.

This short post is in honor and the memory of my uncle whose struggle brought me to tears time and again and made me feel completely helpless. Here is my humble contribution: please click here to read about Alzheimer’s.

اللهم أغفر له وارحمه وعافه واعفو عنه واكرم نزله ووسع مدخله واغسله بالما والثلج والبرد ونقه من الذنوب والخطايا كما ينقى الثوب الأبيض من الدنس

There are things that I just don’t understand like

  • Sine, Cosine and Tangent (or sin, cos and tan – when they’re trying to be cool). Blah, blah and BLAH. This concept has eluded me since the 7th grade, at some point I just stopped trying to get it
  • Very angry people on the road. If you live in the Middle East you’re probably aware of the type, they take everything personally
  • Eggplants
  • How ants communicate
  • Quantum physics
  • Cold soup. Not like when your tomato soup goes cold and you put it in the microwave, silly. I’m not that thick (haha, get it? Not that thick). Anyway, I mean more like chilled cucumber soups
  • Banks
There’s a lot more that I don’t understand but let’s stop at banks for now.

Banks baffle me. I know the simplified version of how they work and even that barely makes any sense. The concept of money is too hard for me to grasp and banks deal with money, so I guess they’ll forever be a mystery?

And speaking of mysteries! I got a mysterious call from NBK (National Bank of Kuwait) yesterday morning, the employee wanted certain details…like my name, my branch, my date of birth and the last 4 digits of my Civil ID. Whaaaa? (By the way, our Civil IDs are linked to our NBK accounts and the Civil ID number IS one’s date of birth followed by four digits.)

I asked her why she needs this information and she told me that it’s for security measures. What kind of security measures, I wanted to know, don’t you already have all this information?

This is roughly what the conversation went like —  I’m taking a few liberties as I translate from Arabic to English.

Her: This is so we can monitor who’s making the transactions…
Me: I thought I’m not supposed to give this information out to anyone.
Her: No one can do anything with the information you give me.
Me: So why do you want it?
Her: This is for a new security measure. If you don’t believe me, call NBK and ask for ——-.
Me (after giving her half the information): Look, I don’t feel comfortable doing this. If NBK needs this information, they shouldn’t be asking for it over the phone.

Seriously.

Assuming NBK employee really are under directives to call and ask for this information, whose bright idea was that? Couldn’t they call and first ask me if I can come to the branch to update my information? Didn’t they think their customers would be a little wary? No one I know has received a similar call.

Hmm.