Speaking of Tim Mackintosh-Smith

12 Sep 2012 2 Comments

by Eva the Dragon in Food for the Mind - Books, Island Tales - Expatriate Living Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Fatima Ali Raza, the owner of La Fontaine Center for Contemporary Art, invited me for dinner.  As we ate under the moon, she asked me,

“You know Ibn Battuta don’t you,” she began.  Her eyes sparkled.

Ibn Battuta, Ibn Battutua, the name echoed in my brain.  However, no thoughts came to mind.

“No,” I admitted.

“Ibn Battuta was an Arab explorer.  He traveled from Tangier to China and covered more parts of the world than Marco Polo.  So many people do not know who he is.  And do you know who I have coming to La Fontaine?”

“Ibn Battuta’s ghost?”

She paused, “Tim Mackintosh-Smith, the expert on Ibn Battuta.”

Now it registered.

At the 2011 Dubai Literary Festival, my friends, Deborah and Maeve, went to his lecture.  The British Mackintosh-Smith is an Arabist living in Yemen.  He is the go-to man for anything about Yemen – and Ibn Battuta.

Mackintosh-Smith literally re-traced Ibn Battuta’s footsteps around the world.  Then he condensed the 14th century traveler’s thirty years of travel into a trilogy.  Travels with a Tangerine, the first in the series, made it to the best sellers list.

“For three years I have been inviting Mackintosh-Smith to Bahrain.  And he finally accepted.  He will be coming in November.  We are planning to offer several workshops over the three days he is here, both in Arabic and English,” Fatima announced triumphantly.

“That’s fantastic,” I said.  “Now I know what to suggest to my book club.”

“But don’t read all of his books.  I am ordering some for the event.”

I decided to see how well-known Ibn Battuta was.  I posed the question to Mojo who corrects my American history mistakes.

“If I say Ibn Battuta what comes to your mind?” I asked him.

“The Ibn Battuta Mall in Dubai.”

“Have I got a gift for you.”

Get ready for this November event at La Fontaine by reading Tim Mackintosh-Smith’s Travels with a Tangerine.

La Fontaine Center for Contemporary Art is featured in The Best of Bahrain vol. 2 which is being launched this Saturday, September 15th, 2012.

Getting Ready for the New Chapter

04 Sep 2012 Leave a comment

by Eva the Dragon in Island Tales - Expatriate Living Tags: , , , , ,

November 14th will be the start of the new Islamic year; January 1st for the West; the Chinese Year of the Snake in February; but September 1st is the first day of my new year.

The end of summer vacation signals the final chapter of a yearlong story.

September begins with a week-long adjustment to the eleven hour time difference.  Between naps, suitcases are unpacked, name tags ironed into new uniforms, emails are returned, the annual closet cleaning takes place and, if I am lucky, the mess on my desk disappears.

Among the books and papers, a copy of SAYIDATY, Saudi Arabia’s Vogue equivalent, lay buried.

Thumbing through the pages, I remembered reading the magazine back in the summer of 2008.  As I poured over the celebrities and fashion exposes, I noticed EVERYONE was wearing leggings.  Even Dior’s Barbie-doll models wore them on the runways.

Silly me – for a moment I forgot where I was.

The women were not wearing leggings; the editors were self-censoring and had photoshopped the offending appendages, covering them in black.

What a change.  “Before”, every magazine that arrived in the kingdom was reviewed by a legion of men with black markers.  Photos of women used to look like this:

Or the page was completely ripped out.

The fact that photos of women with “leggings” and bare arms are allowed is progress.

Shway, shway – slowly, slowly – as we say.

Today I prayed “Please God, Continue to Bless Abdullah bin Abdulaziz al Saud, Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques, with good health and wise leadership.”

Finding Baby Sugg’s Holy Clearing in Iowa

01 Sep 2012 3 Comments

by Eva the Dragon in Where the Corn Grows - Iowa Tags: , , , , , , , ,

After a year in the desert, I desperately needed to walk among trees.  From my mother’s farm, we drove 90 miles north into Winnebago County, along Highway 9 to Pilot Knob State Park.

And the trees welcomed us.

We climbed to the highest summit, the top of a glacial kame, and turned to look in every direction.  The entire landscape was a patchwork of green under the blue summer sky.

We continued an easy hike along the trail to Dead Man’s Lake.  Swans trumpeted and frogs jumped back into the sphagnum moss when we walked by.

We followed the signs to the amphitheater where I found myself transported into Toni Morrison’s novel Beloved.

“When warm weather came, Baby Suggs, holy, followed by every black man, woman and child who could make it through, took her great heart to the Clearing – a wide-open place cut deep in the woods nobody knew for what at the end of a path known only to deer and whoever cleared the land in the first place.”

Sitting at the edge of the circle at the bottom of a tree, I recalled Baby Suggs’ sermon in the woods.

“She did not tell them to clean up their lives or to go and sin no more.  She did not tell them they were the blessed of the earth, its inheriting meek or its glorybound pure.

She told them that the only grace they could have was the grace they could imagine.  That if they could not see it, they would not have it.”

For a moment, I saw Grace among the trees.

A Huck Finn Day

28 Aug 2012 12 Comments

by Eva the Dragon in Where the Corn Grows - Iowa Tags: , , , , , ,

As I scanned my stack of Departures magazine reading articles on the “New Asia” and the Maldives, I noticed that although the editors did add London’s 2012 festivals, they failed to include any articles on Iowa.

When you are done with Namibia’s Skeleton Coast, I suggest driving to Seven Oaks Recreational Park outside Boone, Iowa.

For a mere $43, the young tattooed attendant will load up your rented kayak and canoe.  And within ten minutes you will be deposited on the riverbank seven miles upstream from the pickup ramp.

Minnesota may be known as the land of 10,000 lakes but Iowa has about eighty rivers.

Like half of the US, Iowa was hit by drought this summer.  Despite the Des Moines river’s water levels being half their usual depth, there was enough water that my 71-year old mother and 11-year old Ace and Mark could easily manage either kayak or canoe.

Completely surrounded by trees on both sides of the river, the boys agreed kayaking on the Des Moines was better than Atlantis’ Lazy River and more exciting than Disneyland.

Like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, the children enjoyed bobbing down the river in afternoon sun.   A half mile downstream, we could hear their laughter above the chirping cicadas.  Along the way we saw a group of teenagers swinging from a rope tied to a tall maple tree and splashing into the water.  We anchored and they generously held out the rope so our three kids could all have a go.

I heeded the guides’ warnings and did not bring my camera.  In hindsight this was good because less than a mile to our rendezvous point, I insisted the boys paddle our canoe and while changing spots, I managed to tip the canoe over and dumped everyone into the river.

The canoe completely filled with water as our icebox and shoes floated around our knees.  Luckily the water was only a foot deep.  Unluckily I lost my wits and could not figure out how to get the water out.  Using our Dixie cups, we started bailing with the intention of lightening the canoe and dragging it to shore.

But because it was Iowa I did not have to do this alone.  A young man and his girlfriend pulled over to help us.

However the next morning as I retraced the day’s events, I realized the nice man was as much of a novice as me.  Instead of pulling the water-filled canoe to shore, we should have turned it over and lifted it out, upside down.

As soon as we got home, the boys gleefully called Mojo to tell them I turned over the canoe.

“See, I told them “if that hadn’t happened you would not have had a story to tell.”

Seven Oaks is family owned.  In the summer you can rent tents in their summer camp sites, hike trails, play paintball or have a great day floating on the river.

Their land includes a small hill which – believe it or not – supports six ski lifts that operate all winter.  You can learn to ski and snowboard on their easy to reach slope then head out to Park City or Aspen and show them what you learned in Iowa.

Summer Color In Santa Barbara

17 Aug 2012 2 Comments

by Eva the Dragon in Stories from Far Away Lands - Travel Tags: , , , , , , ,

Vendors selling cartons of colored eggs lined State Street.

For months the women patiently opened the tips of eggs letting the yolks and whites dribble out.  They carefully cleaned, then painted the shells, before filling them with confetti and covering the hole with tissue paper.  These were not Easter eggs.  The women prepared them for LA FIESTA.

The official name was Old Spanish Days.

But in mid-summer, everyone in Santa Barbara called out “Happy Fiesta” and asked whether your outfit was ready for the celebrations.

Created in 1924 by a city council trying to attract tourists to Santa Barbara, the festival honors the area’s Spanish and Mexican history.

Religion and culture are mixed together for five days of parades, church services, dancing, eating, drinking and shopping for all things Mexican.

Mexican Ponchos labeled with favorite team colors

Even Hello Kitty gets a little jalapeno.

Men dressed in their black mariachi uniforms can be seen carrying their vihuelas along the crowded streets.

A colored version could be found in the market.

But I thought the people having the most fun were the locals who planned and practiced all year for La Fiesta.

And anyone who loved cracking eggs on their friends’ heads.

Pomp and Horse-cumstance

16 Jul 2012 1 Comment

by Eva the Dragon in Stories from Far Away Lands - Travel Tags: , , , ,

The changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace might be the highlight of a London Tourist, but you can get close to the Queen’s black horses at the Household Calvary Stable.

Like the guards at Buckingham Palace, the household stable guards are in full uniform and stand at attention without flinching or interacting with people around them.  Obviously not allowed to move their hands, one amused us as he made funny faces trying to adjust his creeping chin strap without touching it.

After getting their photos taken with the black horses, Mark and Ace wandered through the gate into the empty courtyard.  Seeing the guard did not stop them, the crowd followed them in.

Inside one lone guard marched back and forth.  As he paused standing at full attention before turning around, Ace, Mark and Susan surrounded him and we snapped a photo.

Mama-razzi moment finished, Ace walked to the bench under the roof and sat down.  He got a front row seat as the guard marched towards him, spun on his heel, then marched back.

On the return the soldier stopped in front of the large wooden gate.

“Joe,” he whispered.  Joe didn’t hear him, but Ace did.  “Joe,” he hissed louder.

A brown uniformed man came to the gate.

“That boy is sitting,” the guard whispered.  The man nodded and the guard marched on.

The gate swung open and a soldier came out.  He told Ace to move away then followed him as he returned to our circle.

“That your boy?” the soldier asked.

“Yes.”

“Keep him in the courtyard, please.  He is not allowed to sit on the bench or disturb the guard.”

“Ok.”

The man went back to the gate and came out with a long stick.  He herded the tourist backwards towards the far side of the courtyard.  Uncertain what would happen next, we stepped back until we saw a line in the gravel.

After everyone was behind the line, the changing of the Household Calvary Guards began.  There was a lot of pomp as the guards’ swords were checked for sharpness and boots were lifted to make sure there was no horse poop on the bottom.  After a lengthy review, the horses were ridden behind the gate, the guards filed through and the gate was closed.

Lot’s of pomp for the Queen.

Westminster’s Big Organ – Music

08 Jul 2012 4 Comments

by Eva the Dragon in Stories from Far Away Lands - Travel Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

“What’s next,” I asked as we finished up our Westminster Arms fish and chips.

“Westminster Abbey for the organ recital.”

Both my mother and my grandmother played the organ in church so I have a small appreciation for grand, bellowing organ music.  But I wasn’t certain how I was going to sell Ace, Mark and Susan on the idea.

Leaving the pub, we kissed the Queen good-bye then walked to Westminster Abbey.  Standing outside the front doors, the children surveyed the enormous cathedral surrounded by saints and correctly anticipated TV would not be involved.

I tried distracting them.

“See the Lion and the Unicorn.  The Lion represents England and the Unicorn represents Scotland where your Burns ancestors came from.”

My kids knew when I called up the ancestors it meant a history lesson.

“Why are we here?” they tried not to moan.

“We are going to a concert.  This is where Prince William and Kate Middleton were married,” I began.

Their eyes glazed over.  Only my friend Deborah and I toasted their marriage ceremony last year.

“Queen Elizabeth was crowned here sixty years ago.”

They sighed.

As it happened we were visiting July 17th, a week before the 503rd anniversary of the Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon’s coronation.

“King Henry the VIII was also crowned here,” I continued.   “Do you remember which wife was made Queen? “  I directed my question at Susan who had dressed as Henry VIII on Tudor Day.

“The first one, Catherine,” Susan said.

“Right.”

Luckily the doors opened and we flowed in with the waiting crowd.

At 5:45 Martin Ford, the Assistant Organist appointed in January, began Bach’s Fantasia and Fugue in C minor.  Although we could not see him, based on the program, he is quite young.  As the program suggested, at the end of the piece, we kindly reserved our applause.

After the second piece, William Byrd’s Fantasia in A, our friend and his six-year old daughter had disappeared.  During the fourth and final piece, Toccata by Lanquetuit, several people turned around to smile at the sleeping Ace, Mark, Susan, their friend and Mojo.

At least there was no snoring.

Westminster Abbey hosts a free organ recital every Sunday at 5:45.  It’s a nice, civilized way to enjoy the cathedral when you visit London.

Next door is the official gift shop selling royal souvenirs.

The Westminster Arms is a block way on the other side of the park green.

Previous Older Entries Next Newer Entries

Archives

Tales by Chapter