Wadi Rum

For me, the (surprising) highlight of our trip to Jordan was the jeep drive into Wadi Rum, the desert. In a dilapidated Toyota jeep that looked as old (and proved as sturdy!) as the mountains themselves, we drove into the desert. My first time in the desert since we were in Egypt, I was again struck by the difference between traveling in Egypt and Jordan. In the former, the desert is swarmed with camels and small-time merchants trying to swindle tourists whereas in the later the desert is quiet. Needless to say, Wadi Rum is more beautiful than the desert in Luxor or Cairo. In Wadi Rum, the sand is combed by the wind, peppered with stones and laced with mountains. The only evidence of mammalian presence is the fading camel footprints.

The Dead Sea

Jordan’s seaside reminded me of west Ireland’s Connemara’s Clifden. The sea water is still and the beach is quiet.  At the Movenpick Resort I gamely coated myself with mud and floated in the salty Dead Sea.  I was able to simultaneously wave my arms and legs, buoyed by the saline water.

Petra

The sunrise morning call to prayer woke us up on Christmas Day, the day we were visiting Petra, the major reason for us visiting Jordan. Much to my surprise, the ancient city of Petra is much larger than I expected. We hiked for what felt like miles into the city to explore the Treasury as well as the amphitheatre, tombs, temple, priest’s home and residential spaces. Petra stinks of many discrete smells: mules, horses and burning juniper trees. The local children look smaller than their peers in London and New York and wear what looks like colourful hand-me-downs. With faces that look like they’ve been shined with dirt rather than soap, they try to sell us postcards. The valley was so cold my teeth felt like they were chilled on ice.
What surprised me about Petra and about Jordan in general was the natural beauty that the country has to offer in addition to the cultural sightseeing. The rocks are tinted red but upon a closer look, a myriad of shades of orange, pink, purple and yellow emerge, and figures of wealthy traders and camels are carved into the stone.

Aqaba

Within minutes of landing in Jordan, M was already a mini celebrity. We were back in the Middle East where M’s name draws attention from the sleepiest of customs officials. Amidst a sea of blue-eyed blondes waiting to enter the country, M is always in the spotlight.  Although M got the same attention in Jordan as he did in Egypt last Christmas, the countries are nothing alike.  In Egypt it was rare for local women to walk in public spaces even in a group or with male members of their family whereas in Jordan I noticed a number of women accompanying their husband to dinner or shopping in Aqaba.  Whereas in Egypt someone was always trying to sell us something (a scarf, nuts, etc.), the merchants in Jordan are less aggressive and more respectful of body space. Overall, Jordan feels like a much more civilised country than both Egypt and Morocco.

The city of Aqaba is located in southern Jordan and is surrounded by rose-colored mountains and silk-like sand deserts.  After visiting the local aquarium  where I spotted a fish that looked like it grew hands and reminded me of a recent gift my bro got me (N.S.’s “Your Inner Fish”), we took a glass-bottom boat ride in the Gulf of Aqaba where we witnessed a lively and colourful world under water.

“Well”

The winter is usually the best season for theatre, but this year London’s off-West End theatre scene has little to offer. This afternoon we saw “Well”, a play conflating health and wellness with civil rights. The show felt more like an unfinished MFA final project rather than a West End production.

“You are what you read” (2008).

Here are this year’s greatest hits:

1. D. Coleman’s Emotional Intelligence

2. K. Ishiguro’s The Remains of the Day

3. D. Reid’s The Tao of Health, Sex, and Longevity

4. D. Remnick’s The New Gilded Age

5. LVDP’s Things I Wish My Mother Had Told Me

“War Horse”

I’ve decided I prefer watching theatre about people. It doesn’t sound like a lot to ask, but for the last two years some of the most popular theater in London has been centred on young men’s obsessions with horses. Although I somehow managed to circumvent seeing “Equus” (starring the Harry Potter star, David R.), I did give in to seeing “War Horse” at the NT. Needless to say, although the larger-than-life horse puppetry is a craft in itself, the play left a lot to be desired. Who can blame me for not successfully relating to a horse and his adventures fighting the Great War?!

“Potted Potter”

There’s no getting around it, you need to have read the “Harry Potter” books to enjoy “Potted Potter”, a spoof of the HP series now staged at Trafalgar Studios. The entire cast is made of only two actors and they both manage to stage all seven books in seventy minutes. Whereas M has read the entire series, I’ve only read the first four books, but even I enjoyed the farce which pokes fun at JKR’s formulaic plots. Although much of the material is aimed at adults, M and I were the only couple in the theater without children which was which a tad bit embarassing. Perhaps the impromptu game of Quidditch with the audience was a good indication that “Potted Potter” is children’s theater. Well, hopefully we passed for respectable theater critics.

“Things I Wish My Mother Had Told Me”

An avid reader of the Saturday Financial Times, I was immediately intrigued when I picked up Lucia Van Der Post’s, the creator of “How to Spend It”, Things I Wish My Mother Had Told Me: Lessons in Grace and Elegance. Criticisms of the book include the luxury-brand name dropping that litters the its pages like dead petals from an aged bridal bouquet, and the emphasis on consumerism in order to express oneself through style, home fashion, gift giving and travel. However, these are easy critiques of a guide book that every woman, from those still attending pep rallies at the start of the football season to ones who have long settled into menopause, will benefit from reading.

Pearls of wisdom abound the book like balls from a tennis ball machine. Concepts such as style is a form of self expression; guests who dress down “show a lack of respect” for their host; “money is… essential for self-respect”; “to be totally dependent on a man for money limits one’s freedom, no matter how kindly and generous the man”; work provides a “sense of purpose, companionship and continually expanding horizons” reinforce the lessons we learn from our own mothers, role models, or best friends.

The best advice (and deciding what is the “best” is in itself a feat considering I’ve dog-eared what seems like every other page, underlined whole passages, scribbled notes in countless margins and read multiple passages aloud to my husband) includes: “How to Wear Black” (focus on skin care so you glow, accessorize colorfully), how to pack for a city break (denim, cute jackets, boots), detoxification (the 24-hour water fast followed by eating fruits and veggies), love (maybe a 50/50 division of labour in the home is not conducive to a happy marriage), “On Being a Grandmother” (experiences you can share with your grandkids), and “Dinner Parties” (wholesome, delicious, hoity-toity yet easy party food to serve guests). The least value-added chapter is “Perfect Presents” which reads more as an edition of “How To Spend It” than a practical guide for gift giving.

However, the best chapter is “Home, Sweet Home”. Clearly, interior design is VDP’s passion, and her interest, expertise and experience show in the confidence with which she writes the longest section in Things I Wish My Mother Had Told Me. For any person, man or woman, on the precipice of venturing to design their home (whether it is a one-bedroom flat or a country house), “Home, Sweet Home” is a must-read. Some of VDP’s advice is just common sense: “the best houses take time… build it up, layer upon layer, as your life evolves”. Other advice is more conceptual like when she talks about the power of “overscaling” and grouping home furnishings in multiples of three or five.

VDP’s long writing career and marriage, her years of childrearing and experiences as a grandmother, provide for carefully-threaded wisdom throughout the book. In her “Introduction”, the author emphasizes that no amount of under-eye concealer, facials or designer clothes can mask meanness: “Kindness is elegant. Malice and cruelty are not. Warmth and generosity are elegant. Coldness and jealousy are not… Social snobbery—which is rooted in a belief that material values, such as money and worldly status, are more important than human and moral worth—is not elegant.” With advice like that to prepare the reader what is a brilliant guide to etiquette, it is tragic that reviewers have decided to focus on the book’s mention of luxury name brands; it is like criticizing the blandness of Mozart’s violin concerto titles instead of focusing on the orchestral music’s melody. Lucia Van Der Post’s Things I Wish My Mother Had Told Me: Lessons in Grace and Elegance is a guide to etiquette that reminds the reader that as times change, wisdom and good advice rarely does; instead, it’s always best to go back to the basics such as remembering that without kindness, attempts at style have no foundation with which to stand.

“Cold War Modern

Russia is probably the most “exotic” country I’ve visited during our three years living in London. The bureacracy-dominated culture of everyday life permeates the atmosphere, the country’s citizens are noticably watchful of foreigners, and the cities (St. Petersburg and Moscow) feel like giants pretending to slumber, secretly observing the world change around them. Many tragedies can be attributed to Communism, and some have yet to be fully understood such as the lack of political engagement amongst Russia’s citizens with its current government, its rejection of basic civil liberties such as freedom of speech and the rampant drug and AIDS epidemics. “Cold War Modern” at the V&A educates the viewer on the scope and scale of how the USA and USSR’s political and scientific competition lead the world to the brink of nuclear anihilation. The exhibit focuses on the USSR with honorary mentions to North Korea, Cuba, Poland , Germany and Czechoslovakia. Poster art celebrating Socialism Realism are the highlight of the exhibit along with the unpacking of the notion that the Cold War engaged in consumerism and militarism, positioning the competing ideologies as two sides of the same coin.