Going bush in Kuwait

Last week, Kuwaiti women won their voting rights. It came as no real surprise to me. Five years ago, I recall a front page headline punctuated by an exclamation mark which cried out "Emir Expects Women's Votes in Five Years." So there.

I don't expect that any woman will anytime soon arise from Kuwait's minority population of citizen Kuwaitis and take the reigns of power, not now, not for the next four hundred generations. This is not to imply that they are unreliable or incapable of leading. There is no one man who has that role. Leadership elsewhere in the region may be easily defined. Before Ziyad diedin the UAE, there was no doubt who ran the show there. He rules in death, from his hole in the desert. The ruling family in Saudi Arabia named the country after itself. No question there. In Bahrain, when the Emir passed through the great divide between sky and earth, his son gave men and women voting rights, established a parliment then seemed to contradict these actions by naming himself king (where hisfather had basically been a prince.)

To arise from the crowd here, to take charge, to not have someone to your left, right or above you to take the blame for your decisions is foolish. All things requiring a decision, from a doctor writing a prescription to a nation becoming involved in world affairs always begs the question "Why should I?"

Since I went bush last year. I've learned it is possible to not worry about making a difference at home or on the street.

I find it hard to define the emotional stages I've experienced since going bush. They seem similar to the stages of grief: denial, resentment, bargaining, depression, acceptance, but in reverse. At the same time, one daily rides the roller coaster of culture shock: anxiety, elation, superficial adjustment, depression-frustration, acceptance of host culture, integration.

There are questions which spin around various regions of my brain like black holes, bending and distorting light, consuming all energy.

Will I ever go home again? Am I now old enough (or too old) to outgrow some habits, quirks and odd behavior patterns? Have I achieved some sort of resolution or failed and found shameless resignation? "What is it I can give now or what was it I gave that will make or made a difference?"

Will I ever be able to resume following only my heart, allowing it to make all presumptions about what we might find up ahead? How will I know when I finally have taken root?


Is this how it ends?