Tang, Tea and Tradition

It never fails... I go somewhere new with my own mundane expectations, and find so much more. I went with a group to the Al-Mubarakiya Souk in the center of Kuwait City anticipating an afternoon of experiencing a market place like many others around the world. I wanted to feast my eyes on the colors of the local artisans, poke around in shops full of culture, and eat some local delicacies in a vibrant setting.
If I had read the travel guides beforehand, I would have found that I was going at the wrong time. Three in the afternoon during the summer is simply too hot. Many of the shops were closed and not even the cats were stirring.
The market covers a large area, so we did our best to visit it all. Most shops had cheap clothes, but nothing I would wear. There were brightly colored blankets, (in this heat??) but no sign of the carpets we were hoping for.  The fruit and vegetables were stacked in a beautiful array, but the smell of the fish market next door was off-putting. We wandered around the meat market and saw lots of offensive sheep parts, but most were unmanned, as if their owners had taken the day off.

We walked past a small counter behind which a man was brewing a large kettle over a wood fire. I found I was too hot for coffee, but I was able to buy water.  Only then did I realize that all the coffee drinkers were men. No women sat on the pillowed benches of the coffee houses. And the businesses were run by all men.
We went in search of cool drink in the food area where  families were eating. Others had already ordered food and we sat down to a plastic covered table strewn with small plastic plates. There was fresh, hot pita bread, hummus, tabbouleh and cucumber yogurt. Nothing too out of the ordinary.  Then I realized there were no forks, knives, plates or napkins.  I was brought up in a culture that does not touch its food and will even eat a sandwich with a knife and fork.
So I nibbled on the bread dipped in hummus and tried not to think of the mess I was making.

When it was time to leave I found I was not ready.  I suddenly realized that I was not seeing all there was to see in this market, dwelling instead on how it wasn't up to what I wanted it to be.
Curious as to how the delicious bread was made, I walked round the back side of the kitchens and found an open door. The bakers must have been taking a break from shaping and slapping the flat bread to the inside of the oven. Instead they were busy grilling the kebabs and kafta. Not something I'd like to be involved with on such a hot afternoon.
Going further we seemed to find places we hadn't been to, or maybe they just looked different now the shops were opening for business. I found all the shops with piles of spices in bins, the shelves loaded with boxes of tea, and every other available space was taken up with towers of TANG. Why the space-age orange powder? It turns out it is a tradition, as almost everything is in this place. The shops sell the same things they have been selling for decades.  It is the oldest market in the city, and the crudest. No efforts have been made

to modernize it.  Hence the terrible smells that follow you around, and not only near the fish.  The water taps don't work, and even the cats look worn down.  This is the opposite of the modern malls that have taken over the rest of the city. Instead of ATM machines they have a whole street of money changers. These men sit at a glass counter above a case of piles of paper notes. I've heard they run a good business because they offer competitive rates.
Encouraged by the new business activity, we went in search of some carpets. Although most were opening up about 5:00 pm, we noticed that there were piles of carpets lying about in corners and alcoves with no one caring if they were carried off. Carpet theft must be unheard of here.
Mohammed welcomed us into his Persian carpet shop called "The Three Brothers". He gave us a short lesson in carpet quality, thread-count, and labor time. Thankfully he was happy to instruct and did not try to sell us anything.

As we hurried to get our ride home we realized that we hadn't bought anything. We felt like we should have come away with something!  But there wasn't anything we really needed other than some exposure to tradition and some instruction into what makes tradition so valuable.