Expat Writing Competition Finalist

David and I both entered a local writing contest. There were 42 entries and David was one of the top 15. Our fellow AIS colleague BVS won, so it was a pretty cool evening all is all.Here's a picture of David at the award ceremony accepting a cup of tea.

By David O. Brown

When I was getting ready to leave the U.S. for Kuwait, people said to me, “How will you be able to live there?” "Aren't you afraid of the terrorism?" "Will your wife have to wear that head scarf thingy?" “What about the war?” I am pleased to say that none of those larger issues have affected me. But rather, it has been the little, simple things. Ordering out for food, driving, using the bathroom has given this particular newbie a few surprises.

In my home town in the States when I wanted a pizza delivered to my house, I called Jimmy's Pizza and gave them my order "204 North Broadway" and 30 minutes later, it was at my door. Here in Kuwait, my first telephone pizza call will stay in my memory for a long time. Silly me- I assumed that things here were done just like in my small home town. Since the Pizza Hut was only two blocks down the street from my apartment, I thought I could tell the pizza place the landmarks of where I lived since I didn't know exactly what my address was. This was not the case. The pizza man had no idea where the landmarks were. His English was not too good, and my Arabic was non- existent. I got frustrated, and he got frustrated, and I ended up hanging up on him. I never did get my pizza and have since learned that my telephone call did not go to the local Pizza Hut but instead went to a central office that sent the order to the closest Pizza Hut which in turn would make the pizza and deliver it to my address. Now that I know the system, it makes sense in a large city like Kuwait City. It was my mistake in assuming systems are the same in Kuwait as they are in the States.


Soon after learning about pizza, I experienced driving in Kuwait. On my more cynical days, I often wonder if many of the drivers in Kuwait got their driving licenses from Cracker Jack’s boxes. One day while walking home, I was on the sidewalk waiting to cross a very busy street. There were three lanes of traffic stopped at a red light. Just as the light turned green, the car in the far left hand lane decided that he needed to make a right turn. So, he laid on his horn and cut right across two other cars who promptly laid on their horns. I have since discovered that aggressive driving and extensive use of the horn are essential parts of driving in Kuwait.

Some of my learning lessons have been a bit more private in nature. This question occurred while in the privacy of a toilet. After sitting on the toilet, why do I have to wrap my toilet paper into a neat little package and put it into a waste paper basket? In my first week, I was a bit puzzled why there was a small wastebasket in every toilet stall I went into. Bathroom habits are not something one talks about with co workers whom you have just met, but soon I broke down and asked. I was told that the sewer system cannot handle the paper, and like the pizza system, the waste basket system makes sense once you know.


Food in a different land can always evoke questions. For example, why does the Latino Cafe serve not a single taco or enchilada but rather shisha and Lebanese food? After months of eating a steady diet of Indian and Chinese food, I had a yearning for Mexican, and what better place to get Mexican food than the Latino Café! The sign for the restaurant even had a sombrero advertising Latino. Alas, my taco craving was not satisfied at the Latino Café;however, after I had gotten over the disappointment, I did have a very nice meal of hummos with bread, tabboulleh, and chicken shawarma.

Now, these questions are not life threatening nor Earth shattering, but they were certainly puzzling to my newbie brain.

I will end with my favorite "What? Really?" experience so far. In my second week here, I was looking for soccer shoes, and I was happy to find a shoe store that had five different styles of cleats. I picked up a display model I liked and tried it on - Too big, a size 45. I asked the salesperson for a size 40 and, lo and behold, every soccer shoe in all five styles was a size 45. At the time I just nodded my head and said “OK” and left. But later this question came to mind - How does a store stay in business selling only one size of shoe?


In the eight months of living in Kuwait, I have felt like I have been living on sand. Most days it's solid, and I know where I'm standing, but occasionally the sand shifts, and abruptly I’m knocked off balance. Not enough to fall but enough to lose my footing. Now, I could see this as a bad thing, but instead I choose to take it as a good thing. Many times in our lives we keep walking the same worn path we have always trod. We see the same scenery and do the same things we have always done; we think the same thoughts we have always thought. For me it has been good to stand on the shifting sands of Kuwait and lose my balance and stumble. Only then can I stumble onto a different path and see new and different things. Kuwait has certainly made me stumble onto a new path. And even though at times my new path has been frustrating, I am grateful because my experiences here have allowed me to shake away “the leaden weight of routine.”