tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297678522011-12-31T19:10:26.114+03:00anecdotes, musings, the usualbint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.comBlogger201100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-39971916347033990722011-12-21T20:26:00.000+03:002011-12-21T20:27:08.431+03:00

A lot has happened this year. For a long time I didn’t feel like writing, and now that I do, a new start seems appropriate. So I am moving. I’ve deleted most of the posts from this blog (though I may recycle some of them). I hope you’ll join me here.

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-70914068969018271822011-01-27T15:50:00.003+03:002011-01-27T17:11:36.679+03:00

These days I feel as though I’m studying in every spare moment. My studies are entirely voluntary, nothing to do with my work, so it’s actually a pleasure; I feel most alive when I’m learning.I have joined the Manama Singers again, who have just started to rehearse The Creation by Haydn (which celebrates the creation of the world as described in the Book of Genesis and Paradise Lost). The Manama

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-2403664880367979942011-01-17T15:34:00.003+03:002011-12-31T14:16:33.890+03:00

Corniche: noun, a road cut into the edge of a cliff, especially one running along a coast. (Origin: mid 19th century, from French)Around the harbour-front, the Corniche looped in a wide sweep past the moored yachts, the fishing dhows, cranes, container trucks and ships' funnels. It was, if one squinted a little and held one's nose, a lovely little golden city on the sea; and as the

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-10883715307989465172010-12-07T16:16:00.004+03:002010-12-07T16:45:47.151+03:00

As he walked Ravi went over the events of that day again, the desire, the apathy and fulfilment, the invasive curiosity. Where was he, and what was he in this bewildering swirl of live and dead happenings?…In the Gulf, hindi (an Indian) is often used to mean "stupid". There is no shortage of Arabic jokes featuring a dim-witted hindi. (I was discussing this with some colleagues recently, and one

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-51727788034934082782010-10-22T15:03:00.003+03:002010-10-22T15:25:22.493+03:00

I really should learn to listen when I receive good advice.For the last year or so (even before my Ramadan project), I have been trying to find a teacher with whom I can study the Qur’an, specifically its vocabulary and structures. I felt there was only so much that I would be able to learn by my own reading. I asked all sorts of people for suggestions, and I tried the obvious routes like

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-78404391979169041562010-09-17T21:15:00.000+03:002010-09-17T21:19:08.284+03:00

Those of you who have been reading this blog for a while may remember that last Ramadan I decided to try and read a juz' of the Qur'an every day (my posts about it are here, here, and here). In the end I only managed to get part of the way through, because of how time-consuming it was. I knew that I certainly wouldn't have time this year, so I decided on a smaller Ramadan project, to compare the

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-68044807469652423442010-08-14T17:03:00.001+03:002010-08-14T17:05:13.314+03:00

Ten minutes before the maghrib adhan. The weight of the heat has lessened, as if a pressure cooker has come to rest.Sounds are limited: a shutter clattering on its journey down, two hammers beating a rhythm, active for as long as they can be. All else is muted, yet the atmosphere is feverish, thick with the tension that is about to be released.Indian sweetshops glare fiercely, simultaneously

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-68676162088825550952010-08-03T12:51:00.002+03:002010-08-03T13:53:10.607+03:00

Not having a television or internet at home (by choice), what I watch depends on whatever DVDs or downloads my friends choose to give me. I like it as a system because I am introduced to films or series I wouldn't normally consider watching. However, when an Iranian historical serial was handed to me a while back, I doubted I would be watching much of it – especially when I was told, "It gets

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-20502789229662678222010-06-15T16:10:00.002+03:002010-06-15T16:24:15.152+03:00

At last, a month after I left, the promised account of my time in Chile.Part One – The StudiesWell, it turns out I am really bad at Spanish. I tried, I really tried. I studied hard. I did my homework. I asked lots of questions in class. I found the language easy to understand, even when spoken with a Chilean accent. But when I attempted to speak? Towards the end of my week-long course, I went out

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-19251772755777915202010-04-14T22:27:00.004+03:002010-04-15T00:15:45.914+03:00

A few weeks ago I had one of my "adventures". (Do these things only happen to me?) It was a Friday evening, and I had an appointment at the American Mission Hospital. Parking around there is difficult at most times, but on a Friday it's nigh on impossible. I couldn't find parking in the hospital car park at the front or the one at the back (which is shared by the National Evangelical Church), so

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-84047940216683282282010-03-23T14:00:00.001+03:002010-03-23T14:09:36.827+03:00

So, I sang. And it went well. By the the time of the concert I felt pretty confident about following the music; I knew the tune well, and I got a grip on all the notes and symbols (the important ones, at least), enough to guide me in singing. It was a great feeling to have achieved that.It was also fantastic to sing with an orchestra (albeit a small one), which I did for the first time in

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-59812349324815799292010-03-06T22:50:00.004+03:002011-01-27T14:00:23.155+03:00

A mathematician, like a painter or a poet, is a maker of patterns. If his patterns are more permanent than theirs, it is because they are made with ideas. A painter makes patterns with shapes and colours, a poet with words. A painting may embody an "idea", but the idea is usually commonplace and unimportant. In poetry, ideas count for a good deal more; but, as Housman insisted, the importance of

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-5429110295857014582010-01-08T22:20:00.001+03:002011-01-17T13:53:16.168+03:00

Last month I went to Lebanon for this, and I stayed on for a week or so to see friends, and - well, who needs a specific reason?This is my collection of pictureless postcards from that trip. (Postcards always arrive late.)My apologies for the length; to paraphrase Blaise Pascal (et al.), I haven't had time to make it shorter.Beirut (Hamra)On the first day, before the conference started, I went to

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-15674550537845213082009-09-20T16:05:00.002+03:002009-09-21T11:34:46.215+03:00

I've just returned from three days spent visiting friends in Dubai and Abu Dhabi. My companions: a copy of Jonathan Raban's Arabia Through The Looking Glass, not read in many years, and a notebook.in passingJust after maghreb. On the bus out to the plane, snatches of conversation from a fair-skinned man who I assume to be Jordanian or Syrian because he is eating as if finally breaking his fast,

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-10422263717357141162009-08-29T23:26:00.006+03:002011-01-27T14:28:06.905+03:00

This week was a little difficult for me as far as my Qur'an reading project was concerned. Because of work commitments I fell behind in my schedule of reading a juz' a day (although over the last couple of days I have just about managed to catch up). The other thing that slowed me down was that I was finding it difficult to engage with what I was reading; in particular Surat An-Nisa' was hard to

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-3283809962053104902009-08-24T17:44:00.001+03:002009-08-24T17:48:16.935+03:00

As there has been some interest in my project to read the Qur'an during Ramadan, I thought I would briefly explain how I am going about it, for the benefit of others who are interested in doing the same.Step one: I read the day's juz' in English translation. I see this as a pre-reading task, preparing me to read the Arabic which is my real goal. This translation is what I might describe as "

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-47147140665664039022009-08-21T14:20:00.008+03:002011-07-08T14:13:49.141+03:00

A few weeks ago I decided I would like to read the Qur'an in Arabic. I realised that I had never read the Qur'an in full, and what I had read was in English. I think I tried reading it in Arabic early on in my language studies, had obviously found the language too difficult - and never tried again.That's not to say I haven't studied Islam - I've even taken classes in Islamic law - but I realised

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-68255285752437725332009-05-21T23:40:00.004+03:002011-01-23T15:19:26.232+03:00

For days I have been trying to write down my thoughts in answer to the question everyone has been asking me since I came back to Bahrain: “So, how was Qatar?” Not having the time in a passing conversation to articulate my thoughts effectively, I must confess that more often than not I have laughed and agreed with the usual prompting, “Boring, right?” The thing is, I wouldn’t say that Qatar is “

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-15737918516694278272009-04-03T18:08:00.008+03:002010-12-23T16:51:19.526+03:00

...khichri or kushari?An Egyptian friend asked me this the other day - I hadn't even made the connection before. A quick search brought up other people asking the same question, and it seems most think the dish went from India to Egypt. (Apparently John Thorne has an essay called "Khichri / Kushari / Kedgeree" in Pot on the Fire, which I would love to read one day.)Whether it originated in India

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29767852.post-82862334462214104232008-04-12T21:24:00.007+03:002011-01-10T16:21:46.229+03:00

The other day I started reading a review of a book called Indo-European Poetry and Myth by M.L. West; I found it heavy going, so just skimmed most of it, but the first few paragraphs are a nice summary of the development of the Indo-European languages: Nineteenth-century German and British linguists, building on some 18th-century hunches, uncovered the connections between members of a large (and

bint battutahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08753131660641791299noreply@blogger.com5