Kuwait City, Kuwait

This morning in Beirut I used an ATM. Lebanese ATMs are capable of dispensing either Lebanese pounds or US dollars. On the menu was the amount of US$250. Intrigued by this unusual sum, I selected it and was dispensed 5 US$50 dollar bills. Wow. Rafic Hariri International Airport had a big lobby, then a metal detector and X-ray just to get to the check in area. After check in was actual security. Upon landing in Kuwait I was hungry so I stopped at the airport McDonalds right past the gate. This McDonalds was run by Filipina chicks who kept saying "sir" as every other word. Sir can I help you sir? Sir something to drink sir? Sir what size sir? They charge for barbecue sauce. After that, the real fun starts with the painfully
s-l-o-w process of entering Kuwait. In the terminal there is an area with a lot of waiting benches marked "Visa Issuing." Here you take a number, fill out a form in very badly translated English, have a guy make a photocopy of your passport for no reason, and wait. And wait. And wait. And wait. It takes forever to process people through. After about 90 minutes of waiting my number was finally called, and I surprisingly encountered the nicest immigration official I had ever dealt with. "First time in Kuwait? Welcome. Dominic. That is a very nice name. 3 dinars please sir." He gave me a receipt and sent me to another official who gave me back my passport with a tiny, TINY stamp in it and a large computer printout with a bunch of Arabic written on it that I think is my actual visa, but I honestly have no idea. On this printout I noticed my full name had been transliterated into Arabic, and not the way I normally spell it out in Arabic. What I usually write, when transliterated back into English comes out as "Duminik Wilyam Mastrumatiu," but this was more like "Dumnik Wilyam Masturumatiu." Ma3aleesh. In a normal country after getting a visa you would have to go through passport control and get an entry stamp as well. The chick at the passport control lane marked "other nationalities," with a headscarf and braces, smiled at me and in a perfect North American accent said "Welcome." I started to hand her my passport, but she just said "that's all. Go ahead." Then after baggage claim you get to join the very long line to have your baggage x-rayed by customs. Then you're actually in Kuwait. Driving here is great. In third world countries like Egypt and Lebanon the crazy driving seems normal because the streets are so chaotic and foreign. But here in Kuwait, the freeways feel like just like the 57 or 91, but the Kuwaitis have their own ideas on how they should be used. It's an experience. There are no budget hotels here so my only option was to pay for something relatively nice. Thanks to the internet I managed to find a special deal on Kuwait's cheapest hotel, which is making my stay in the world's third wealthiest nation just *slightly* possible. This hotel is like a two star place, but it's obviously for long term stays. My room is very large, has a very large bathroom with some kind of Japanese mini-washing machine and a small kitchenette with a hot plate, sink and minifridge. Despite this, it's really not that expensive. I paid more for the Motel 6 in San Francisco, and that place was an incredible dump. My favorite part of the room, however, is the sign indicating the direction of Mecca.