A glossy advertisement I saw today for a milk substitute:
Got Milk?
We don't...but we promise you won't get gout!
Sinloo Non-Dairy Milk products are made from 100% synthesised lactose
the perfect way to simulate an actual milk consumption experience.
Also works great as an adhesive!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
Chi le ma?
Fast forward....and we're both in Beijing after a lovely long break in New Zealand seeing the boys and sorting out our affairs at home. We had a wonderful time catching up with old friends; missed out on a few friends sadly but fully intend to catch up next year!
Beijing is a lively, enterprising, sophisticated place, full of surprises. We've been learning the ropes; everything from how to do the supermarket shopping, catching taxis, going to a tailor, getting onto the local mobile network and bargaining at the market to the more involved skills like finding an apartment and, in Ian's case, getting to grips with the business environment in China.
Yesterday we treated ourselves to a day sightseeing. Ian's PA found us a friend of a friend who could act as our guide to take us to the Great Wall, to a hutong (small street where regular people live) and Silk Street, one of the big markets.
Our guide, Dong, picked us up at 8 o'clock and we drove north through the Beijing traffic to Badaling, where tourists go to see the Great Wall. Dong is in his early thirties, university qualified, and working as a national tourist guide, which means he is qualified to guide tourists around the whole of mainland China. His English was great, he was well-read, knowledgeable, opinionated, lively and open about his background and family. The day was a special one, mostly because of the personal communication we had with him. He grew up in the north, near the border of North Korea. "Chi le ma" is a a greeting that his mother uses, along with that generation that has known hunger. It means "Have you eaten?" We all really liked each other, so much so that he invited us to his place for dinner next weekend. Let's hope that it happens!
Some pics:
The Great Wall, stretching into the distance.
Our part of the Great Wall.
Ian got a medal which says, "I have climbed the Great Wall, Ian Hendeikse"
Ian and I with a group of off-duty soldiers. They are all aged 18-23, mostly from rural parts of China. After we had our photo taken with them one of them was heard to say to his companion, "Why did they want to have our photo taken with us"?
Our hostess at a specialist tea shop called "Dr Tea". She wore a nametag that said "Number 23". We bought some teas there and a special teaset. Its picture changes colour when you put hot tea into it.
Of course we saw the Birdsnest.
We were taken into a traditional hutong home, homes for the extended family grouped in a particular way around a central courtyard. We met Mr Zhang, whose family had lived in the compound for 72 years. He gave us tea and showed us old photos of his family, then told us to ask him any questions we wanted to. Pushing down a voyeuristic feeling I asked him if he had lived here during the Cultural Revolution. During this time in the 1960s land and homes were taken for redistribution in China. Mr Zhang was sent from his university studies to work on the land in the north of China for six years, and like other people of that generation, was unable to resume his studies. He worked in a factory for many years when he returned, but was able eventually to get a better job through his foster sister, who had been able to finish her studies prior to the 1960s. They were eventually able to repurchase their family home from the government, where his sister's family and his 91 year old father live still. Mr Zhang is retired now and was reserved, but courteous and warm. He told us he had visited New Zealand, where he particularly liked the geysers.
Beijing is a lively, enterprising, sophisticated place, full of surprises. We've been learning the ropes; everything from how to do the supermarket shopping, catching taxis, going to a tailor, getting onto the local mobile network and bargaining at the market to the more involved skills like finding an apartment and, in Ian's case, getting to grips with the business environment in China.
Yesterday we treated ourselves to a day sightseeing. Ian's PA found us a friend of a friend who could act as our guide to take us to the Great Wall, to a hutong (small street where regular people live) and Silk Street, one of the big markets.
Our guide, Dong, picked us up at 8 o'clock and we drove north through the Beijing traffic to Badaling, where tourists go to see the Great Wall. Dong is in his early thirties, university qualified, and working as a national tourist guide, which means he is qualified to guide tourists around the whole of mainland China. His English was great, he was well-read, knowledgeable, opinionated, lively and open about his background and family. The day was a special one, mostly because of the personal communication we had with him. He grew up in the north, near the border of North Korea. "Chi le ma" is a a greeting that his mother uses, along with that generation that has known hunger. It means "Have you eaten?" We all really liked each other, so much so that he invited us to his place for dinner next weekend. Let's hope that it happens!
Some pics:
The Great Wall, stretching into the distance.
Our part of the Great Wall.
Ian got a medal which says, "I have climbed the Great Wall, Ian Hendeikse"
Ian and I with a group of off-duty soldiers. They are all aged 18-23, mostly from rural parts of China. After we had our photo taken with them one of them was heard to say to his companion, "Why did they want to have our photo taken with us"?
Our hostess at a specialist tea shop called "Dr Tea". She wore a nametag that said "Number 23". We bought some teas there and a special teaset. Its picture changes colour when you put hot tea into it.
Of course we saw the Birdsnest.
When we arrived to take our hutong tour, we had just been discussing with Dong the English nicknames we have come across here that Chinese people have adopted - "Apple", "Cat", as well as some more conventional names.
"Hello, welcome to China! I am your tour guide", twinkled a lively young woman, "my name is Eleven!"
I'm sure I heard Dong gently snort beside us.
"Hello, welcome to China! I am your tour guide", twinkled a lively young woman, "my name is Eleven!"
I'm sure I heard Dong gently snort beside us.
She rode beside our rickshaw on a bicycle, telling us the history and significance of the hutong. Her ambition is to be a national tour guide.
We had a padded rug put across our knees and off we went, past the people on the street corners playing cards and mahjong, past people coming out of the communal bathrooms with towels wrapped around their hair, past the bicycles and cars and the people going about their lives.
We were taken into a traditional hutong home, homes for the extended family grouped in a particular way around a central courtyard. We met Mr Zhang, whose family had lived in the compound for 72 years. He gave us tea and showed us old photos of his family, then told us to ask him any questions we wanted to. Pushing down a voyeuristic feeling I asked him if he had lived here during the Cultural Revolution. During this time in the 1960s land and homes were taken for redistribution in China. Mr Zhang was sent from his university studies to work on the land in the north of China for six years, and like other people of that generation, was unable to resume his studies. He worked in a factory for many years when he returned, but was able eventually to get a better job through his foster sister, who had been able to finish her studies prior to the 1960s. They were eventually able to repurchase their family home from the government, where his sister's family and his 91 year old father live still. Mr Zhang is retired now and was reserved, but courteous and warm. He told us he had visited New Zealand, where he particularly liked the geysers. Friday, July 25, 2008
I'm Back!
Hi everyone - well my sincere apologies for the long gap - our life has been frantic for the last few months, with a lot of transitions and adjustments. We had two lovely special months when Garrick was here, and so all our blended family had time together. We had a lot of fun and did lots together. The guys all went back to New Zealand a month ago - Garrick to uni in Auckland to carry on his business studies; and Leo and Robbie to Ohope. They are back with their Dad and family and NZ friends and haven't missed a beat. We've - I've - had a huge and painful adjustment to being long-distance parents. We miss the guys a lot and are very grateful that technology helps to keep in touch so easily. We are very proud of them and how each of them are developing into outstanding young men; all differently talented, all loved and cherished by us. 
And so on into the unknown future. Ian and I are on the move again. We found out a couple of days ago that we will be going to Beijing. Ian has had a Big Promotion within Worley Parsons and will be taking on a senior, China-wide management position transitioning from 1 September and taking on the full role in November. Because this new role is so Very Important, I need to leave my beloved Sidra and it looks very likely that I'll have to reinvent myself career-wise. This is an exciting-daunting prospect. I'm thinking something more portable and web-based; in the next few weeks I will be plotting and scheming about ways to build an empire while based in Beijing....Hey World! Watch this space!We are very sad to leave our friends here. We have met a very special group of people who we are going to miss desperately and we very much want to stay in touch with them. In the same way we have each been privileged to work with an outstanding bunch of people from all over the world and will miss the people from our work lives also. We have learned a lot and feel blessed by our experience in Qatar.
So now we sort out and get ready to move. The household effects are going back to New Zealand so that we can rent out the Kauri Mountain house furnished. We plan to walk bravely forward out of here with only our suitcases to the next phase of our lives. We leave Qatar 15 August.
I will arrive in Whakatane on Monday 18 August and will have a car and will be staying in Pete and Kath Craig's little cottage. Ian will be in Whangarei and will fly down to Ohope on 23 August which is the following Saturday. We will stay until Thursday 28, then will go up to Auckland to have a couple of days with Garrick. Then Ian will go to China and on 30 August I will go to Melbourne to stay with Margie and then will come back to Ohope in 3-4 weeks. Then it will be back to NZ for more time with the boys and unpacking the furniture in Whangarei whenever it arrives on the ship ??mid October (maybe later). When all the furniture is unpacked then I will need to say my good-byes and go to Beijing.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The Best Laid Plans
We had a Doha moment the other night. On Thursday, the very night Ian and I were due to fly out to Carlie's wedding, we were doing some last minute shopping to ensure all the guys had the necessities while we were gone. Everything was organised. The boys knew what was happening, Garrick was taking charge, everyone was happy.
We were buying two sim cards at Carrefour, the local French supermarket - one for Garrick and one for Robbie. Of course there is quite a process to go through in order to buy something as important as a sim card. You have to take along two photocopies of your Resident ID card, one of the front and one of the back of the card, and fill out a form. I scurried around between all the places I had to go to and breathlessly presented my credentials at the phone stall in Carrefour, only to be told that my photocopy could not be accepted because my ID had just expired. Curses! I located Ian and the boys in one of the food aisles of dubious nourishment, borrowed Ian's ID and completed the transaction.
As I left the mall it dawned on me that if my ID was expired, then probably my Qatar visa was as well. We rang Abdul, the public relations officer from Ian's work, who has been helping us all along with government formalities. He told us that if we went home and my visa was also expired in my passport then I wouldn't be able to leave the country. Qatar is one of the places in the world where you not only need an entry visa, but you need an exit visa as well. To get the latter, you need the former.
It was a silent trip home on the way to my passport. How could I not have double checked? I thought about the times I had abandoned my visitors to shop for an outfit to wear to the wedding and wondered if I was going to get to wear it.
My visa had expired. We rang Abdul again.
"You definitely cannot leave the country. All the departments are closed for the weekend. But don't worry, I will be back on Sunday (the first day of the working week here) and will make sure your visa is renewed by the end of the day."
"Where are you, Abdul?"
"I am at Mecca. I am doing the hajj again. If you had rung me half an hour later you would have missed me. But don't worry, I will be back from Saudi Arabia by Sunday. You can still have your holiday OK? Just a little later."
Not OK. Not really. We couldn't get to Carlie and Gillon's wedding. But what could I do?
So we rebooked and rearranged everything. Insha'allah (God willing) the visa will be renewed today. We'll just extend our holiday a couple of days at the end. And we have had a bonus weekend, just us all at home together. So it's not all bad.
We were buying two sim cards at Carrefour, the local French supermarket - one for Garrick and one for Robbie. Of course there is quite a process to go through in order to buy something as important as a sim card. You have to take along two photocopies of your Resident ID card, one of the front and one of the back of the card, and fill out a form. I scurried around between all the places I had to go to and breathlessly presented my credentials at the phone stall in Carrefour, only to be told that my photocopy could not be accepted because my ID had just expired. Curses! I located Ian and the boys in one of the food aisles of dubious nourishment, borrowed Ian's ID and completed the transaction.
As I left the mall it dawned on me that if my ID was expired, then probably my Qatar visa was as well. We rang Abdul, the public relations officer from Ian's work, who has been helping us all along with government formalities. He told us that if we went home and my visa was also expired in my passport then I wouldn't be able to leave the country. Qatar is one of the places in the world where you not only need an entry visa, but you need an exit visa as well. To get the latter, you need the former.
It was a silent trip home on the way to my passport. How could I not have double checked? I thought about the times I had abandoned my visitors to shop for an outfit to wear to the wedding and wondered if I was going to get to wear it.
My visa had expired. We rang Abdul again.
"You definitely cannot leave the country. All the departments are closed for the weekend. But don't worry, I will be back on Sunday (the first day of the working week here) and will make sure your visa is renewed by the end of the day."
"Where are you, Abdul?"
"I am at Mecca. I am doing the hajj again. If you had rung me half an hour later you would have missed me. But don't worry, I will be back from Saudi Arabia by Sunday. You can still have your holiday OK? Just a little later."
Not OK. Not really. We couldn't get to Carlie and Gillon's wedding. But what could I do?
So we rebooked and rearranged everything. Insha'allah (God willing) the visa will be renewed today. We'll just extend our holiday a couple of days at the end. And we have had a bonus weekend, just us all at home together. So it's not all bad.
Bringing Oil to the Middle East
When Nana Shirley stayed, she was put to work sewing hockey bibs for Leo and Robbie's hockey team. As maintenance isn't my strong point, it was noted that my sewing machine had a terrible squeak. Shirley went home and contacted Charles and Kris before they came over - repeatedly - to ensure that some sewing machine oil was brought over to remedy the problem. When Kris arrived she commented that it is probably the only time in history that oil has been brought To the Middle East. 
Here's the evidence Nana!
And here's a bunch of cuzzie photos.
A studio shot of the girls:
Frostie really enjoying having his photo taken:
Charles and Shirley:
And just because somehow Leo hasn't had a photo of himself on here for a while, here's one of him too.
Here's the evidence Nana!
And here's a bunch of cuzzie photos.
A studio shot of the girls:
Frostie really enjoying having his photo taken:
Charles and Shirley:
And just because somehow Leo hasn't had a photo of himself on here for a while, here's one of him too.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Dunestock
We are having such a lovely time with visitors staying at the moment. Right now, Shirley, my cousin, and Frostie her husband are staying with us. They leave tomorrow just as our Garrick arrives to live with us and work here for two months before going back to uni in Auckland. Other cousins Charles and Kristen arrived early this morning and will stay until Thursday. Ian and I and the cuzzies will all meet in the UK at the end of this week for a special wedding - Shirley's daughter Carlie is getting married in Tunbridge Wells. So we are going around the souq, sightseeing, hitting the malls and generally trying to show everybody a good time. It's such fun and we feel so blessed to be able to see people we love, even though we live so far away now.
Yesterday was the long-awaited yearly event "Dunestock" - a music festival out in the desert at - where else - the singing dunes where local musicians strut their stuff in a fund-raiser for Doha Players, the local theatre company. We arranged to meet our lovely group of friends there, and an advance party of blokes went out to set up gazebos, place carpet on the sand, place chairs and tables and generally have a prime spot looking ready to party in style for the more gorgeous half of the group when we arrived three hours later at 2pm.
It should have been a clue to us when we couldn't see very far in front of us driving out there - a sandstorm had started and it looks like dusty fog if you look out of a window. If you are in the midst of it, it feels like you are being sandblasted in a very warm and gritty hurricane. However, full of optimism we pressed on, past the cars that were leaving the festival, on through the more hardy partygoers to our site.
We made a valiant attempt. We drank arabic coffee that Leyla brought along, climbed the singing dunes, caught up with just about everyone we knew, watched Leo and Robbie and Robbie's friend Shamus making their way around in their rainbow wigs, bought the teeshirt and generally prepared ourselves to have a good time. But then it started to unravel. One of the gazebos blew in and caught Leyla on the back of her head. Sand blew in our eyes. Grit filled our ears and mouth. The chairs blew over. We beat a strategic retreat to Jenny and Rob's house who let the disreputable, sand-encrusted crowd spread our picnic food on their pristine table and socialise the evening away in their lovely house, where the only hot air was the sound of the guys telling each other lies as fast as they could.
When Frostie quietly let it be known that he was short of breath and his voice was 4 octaves lower than normal, we said our farewells and whisked him off to Doha Clinic to see a doctor. He was given a nebuliser and slowly came right. Apparently going out in a sandstorm is the worst thing you can do if you have asthma. Apparently the clinic had hordes of people coming through with breathing problems yesterday.
Yesterday was the long-awaited yearly event "Dunestock" - a music festival out in the desert at - where else - the singing dunes where local musicians strut their stuff in a fund-raiser for Doha Players, the local theatre company. We arranged to meet our lovely group of friends there, and an advance party of blokes went out to set up gazebos, place carpet on the sand, place chairs and tables and generally have a prime spot looking ready to party in style for the more gorgeous half of the group when we arrived three hours later at 2pm.
It should have been a clue to us when we couldn't see very far in front of us driving out there - a sandstorm had started and it looks like dusty fog if you look out of a window. If you are in the midst of it, it feels like you are being sandblasted in a very warm and gritty hurricane. However, full of optimism we pressed on, past the cars that were leaving the festival, on through the more hardy partygoers to our site.
We made a valiant attempt. We drank arabic coffee that Leyla brought along, climbed the singing dunes, caught up with just about everyone we knew, watched Leo and Robbie and Robbie's friend Shamus making their way around in their rainbow wigs, bought the teeshirt and generally prepared ourselves to have a good time. But then it started to unravel. One of the gazebos blew in and caught Leyla on the back of her head. Sand blew in our eyes. Grit filled our ears and mouth. The chairs blew over. We beat a strategic retreat to Jenny and Rob's house who let the disreputable, sand-encrusted crowd spread our picnic food on their pristine table and socialise the evening away in their lovely house, where the only hot air was the sound of the guys telling each other lies as fast as they could.
When Frostie quietly let it be known that he was short of breath and his voice was 4 octaves lower than normal, we said our farewells and whisked him off to Doha Clinic to see a doctor. He was given a nebuliser and slowly came right. Apparently going out in a sandstorm is the worst thing you can do if you have asthma. Apparently the clinic had hordes of people coming through with breathing problems yesterday.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Clare the Bear came to stay
At the same time as Salim was being born, the Watts came to stay with us. Clare is my best friend. We have known each other since we nursed together in the Woolavington wing of the Central Middlesex Hospital in London in 1987. We've seen each other through babies, bereavements, marriages (in my case), house moves, and various big old messy life events. She's one of the rocks in my life, always to be relied on for an honest opinion and a good laugh, and to be totally on my side. Jon, her husband is similarly wonderful, as are their kids, Tom, Georgie and Harry. I plan to live next door to them one day.
They arrived for the school holidays, only some of which I was able to take off unfortunately, but no worries, I hired the school bus and a driver and off they went around Qatar to look at everything. Leo and Robbie were the tour guides, so they told me.
They arrived for the school holidays, only some of which I was able to take off unfortunately, but no worries, I hired the school bus and a driver and off they went around Qatar to look at everything. Leo and Robbie were the tour guides, so they told me.
The time with them was deeply deeply satisfying. Ian and Clare and Jon got on very well together, as did all the kids.
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