tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-92915462024-03-07T12:24:05.745+03:00.:: SILLY BAHRAINI GIRL ::.SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.comBlogger711125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-23907792785506125252011-02-14T14:28:00.005+03:002011-02-14T16:44:56.419+03:00Let the fun begin ..The "fun" started last night - and as expected there was a face-off, between protesters and the police force in the village of Karzakan.<br />And as is the case, there are two versions of the story:<br />The Ministry of Interior surprisingly opened a Twitter account last night and<a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/moi_bahrain/status/36889423014531073"> tweeted</a>:<br /><blockquote><br />Illegal rally in Karzakan 3 policemen attacked, Police had to fire 2 rubber buttons. 1st as warning shot 2nd bounced & hit a demonstrator</blockquote>I know, it reads like a cartoon script, but that is the problem with 140-character messages, particularly those written by sci-fi writers.<br /><br />The other side paints a story of horror and gore, the use of excessive police brutality, casualties, and loads of tear gas, rubber bullets and shot guns - all documented with photographs being mass circulated on BBM, the Internet and word of mouth.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Bint Battuta in Bahrain</span> translates the demands from the protests, starting across the country today <a href="http://battutabahrain.blogspot.com/2011/02/february-14.html"> here</a>. And while most of them are legitimate, and something each decent Bahraini aspires to, a copy-cat revolution, with a Facebook event, is not what a sectarian divided Bahrain needs today.<br /><br />These marches if anything will continue to fan the flames of sectarianism, pitting one neighbour against the other, in a country where mistrust between the two sects is becoming the trademark of our existence. We all know that the protests will be quashed. The riot police will not smile to the protesters and let them do their bit and go to their homes. There will be a crackdown, and it will be excessive, hard and brutal - but then every protester taking the streets already knows that.<br /><br />Over the past few days I watched with horror as Bahrainis plummeted to the dark side, with new name tags on every ungrateful soul not drooling at the government and the scraps it throws at us to play fetch with. Fetch because whatever goes into one pocket, goes out the other. And play because even if one gesture or the other is genuine, the big picture shows that there is some big flaw in a reform project we all welcomed with open arms but are now becoming disillusioned with.<br /><br />As you can see, I am not a huge fan of the government. I am also not a fan of stirring unrest in Bahrain. And I am also totally against the way the security forces will clampdown on any dissent or opposition - the same opposition I am not a fan of because of my liberal leanings, which don't mix well with the turban bearded mantra. But having said all this, my sympathy is with my country men and women, with the poor and needy, with those working hard to make ends meet, with those striving to have a roof on their heads, with those studying hard and eager to join the job market - with the decent Bahrainis out there who want to live in a land of equal opportunities and feel proud that they are Bahrainis - <a href="http://justbahraini.org/">Just Bahraini</a>, Not Sunni or Shia. (By the way, Just Bahraini - a bloggers initiative to fight sectarianism is BLOCKED by the Government of Bahrain!!!!)<br /><br />What I am with is a civil dialogue and what I want to see today is the real Bahrainis standing up and stopping any bloodshed, anger and correcting the wrongs of the past. I also want to see goodwill and trust - trust from both the government and the people. I want us to believe and I want to be able to dream of a better Bahrain for my children. I want us all to give each other the benefit of the doubt and develop a capacity to listen to each other without calling each other unpatriotic, traitor or an agent of the West or Iran.<br /><br />As Bahrainis, we need to sit down with each other and address our long list of woes, and work together on solving them. Sandwiched between Saudi Arabia and Iran, it would be foolish to demand a full democracy, with real emancipation, freedoms and citizens rights. I understand and accept that as this is my country and this is my destiny. What I do not accept and will never accept is the cesspit of sectarian bigotry we are drowning in.<br /><br />The government needs to stop its games, the mental ones particularly, because all decent Bahrainis, Sunnis and Shia, are aware. The hoarse crow's caw will continue to reverberate but we will need to step out of the noise, call out corruption and rise above all the mistrust and work towards a common goal: A Bahrain we will all be proud to live in and work together for its progress and prosperity.<br /><br />My own family and network of friends include people from the full spectrum of Bahrainis - Sunnis and Shias, those who spend more time in the Matams and mosques than with their families and those who cannot go a day without breaking one religious ruling or another - and we all live in peace, accepting each other and civil in the way we treat one another.<br /><br />Having said all this: I will not march in the streets. I will stay put, surrounded by my cats and loved ones, hoping for peace in my restive country.<br /><br /><br /><a name='more'></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-12381053674866408432011-01-30T14:31:00.004+03:002011-01-30T14:52:48.620+03:00Dealing with Hardcore News!Is the revolution contagious? And could what started as a one-man act in Sidi Bouzid, in Tunisia, be reverberating across the Arab world, where many of today's young men and women grew up with the same ageing heads of state ruling them, and every other aspect of their lives?<br /><br />My Twitterfeed is abuzz with hashtags, calling for revolutions across the region, from Algeria to my very own Bahrain. There is even a calendar of events being circulated, which I didn't get - making me feel like Cinderella, whose ugly step sisters were invited to the party while I was shunned.<br /><br />The fast-paced events taking the Arab world by storm since December 17 have left many of us in awe, riding on the revolution tide. From my vantage point, I am seeing an influx of reactions even from the most downtrodden people, making me worry about their safety and security, knowing too well that even expressing your feelings could very well carry a price tag in certain countries in our region.<br /><br />I have spent the previous painful hour talking to a hardcore journalist from New York - at least that is what he described himself as. I explained to him the work we do at <a href="http://globalvoicesonline.org/specialcoverage/egypt-protests-2011/">Global Voices Online</a> and how we aggregate material written by the people, for the people. He said he knew all that and wasn't interested. He wanted hard news. He wanted facts. I told him we are publishing what we have and finding the facts was his job. He asked me what was next. I told him that is for the clairvoyant to tell us. He explained to me over and over again how he was a professional journalist, implying that I was a novice, who has started to learn how to type yesterday. What is Bahrain? he asked. And then added: "Bahrain is Bahrain, I suppose!" He asked if I have a television set? He said that he would stream Al Jazeera now and watch the developments online. I shook my head in horror and didn't tell him that Al Jazeera was a stone's throw away, and that if I look out of my window, and gaze into the horizon I will be able to see its shed-like building (that is how I saw it last! No offence, but please tell me you have grand offices now, with the splendour we are used to here in the Gulf!) in the glare of the distant desert.<br /><br />I know that I have started my career as a journalist and have worked in the field for a good 15 years. But some of the specimens out there leave a lot to desire in what was once a profession I cherished and romanticised. I wrote that in the past tense, because my more recent work in citizen media over the past five years puts some of those larger-than-thou characters to shame. This journalist I was speaking to, responded to every word I uttered with "I know!!" If you know everything, and I am not offering you anything new or newsworthy, why are you wasting my time and yours at 5am in the morning your time?<br /><br />In all my years as a journalist, I had thought that my role was to listen with compassion and understanding, and ask the relevant questions, at the right time. There were times I had to be aggressive and many others where the conversation would naturally flow until I got the story I desired. But that is how we do our business here, in the Gulf, where respect still has a place in people's code of ethics and it's difficult to find a lot of people talking down to people in a condescending manner.<br /><br /><br />The hard-hitting questions I was asked are: What is happening now in Egypt? What will happen next? Who will be the next president? What do you know about Mohammed ElBaradei? Where will Mubarak go to? And how many people were killed and injured in #Jan25? He was also the one who told me that the Arab League was circulating a calendar of events noting where the next revolutions will start across the Arab world. The Arab League? Yeah, right. Please splatter that across all the headlines of all the major newspapers across the US and A, so that they know how much the Arab League is in touch with the grievances of its own people, and how blessed we all are to have such a spineless organisation!<br /><br />Seriously? The Arab League?<br /><br />The truth is that all those questions are legitimate but I am not the person to answer them. I consume the news just like the rest of us, with the only bonus point being, is that I am able to string citizen media reactions and post articles on an international platform, that only deals with citizen media reactions!<br /><br />Burnt out, I will now go and play with my cats. At least, since they have no access to the Internet, I can rest assured that there will never be a mutiny in my household and none of them would ever aspire to have my life!<br /><a name='more'></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-37487772122386024652011-01-20T12:02:00.003+03:002011-01-20T12:12:53.991+03:00What's up with the French?For the previous two weeks, I have been refreshing the French Embassy's visa appointment page constantly - with no luck!<br /><br />My plans for a vacation in Paris are being cut short because the French Embassy refuses to speak to people in person, has no one answering the phone regarding visa inquiries and has a website which refuses to make appointments.<br /><br />I have tried the <a href="https://pastel.diplomatie.gouv.fr/RDV-Internet/html/frameset/frameset.html?sgid=185&lcid=1&suid=1">website</a> during different hours of the day and night; I have asked my husband to go to the Embassy and speak to them and they turned him back saying he had to make an appointment , and we have called the Embassy over and over again, with no luck.<br /><br />To get a visa to France, you need to book an appointment online. To book an appointment online, you need to access the website. And when you access the website, you are not able to book an appointment online. I wonder if anyone at the French Embassy has ever tried their website to see how infuriating booking an appointment is.<br /><br />I have tried accessing it on Safari, on Firefox and on Chrome. Do I now have to install Internet Explorer to access it?<br /><br />Here are their instructions:<br /><blockquote><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: justify;">To use this procedure, it is recommended that you have the following configuration :<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br /><br /> - Internet Explorer 6 (Windows) and higher versions with Service Pack 2<br /> or Firefox 1 and higher versions<br /> or Mozilla 1.7.8 and higher versions<br /> - you should also have Adobe Acrobat Reader 5 or higher to print your appointment receipt.<br /> If not, you can download the software on the Adobe Acrobat Reader website<br /><br /> - you need to enable your computer to open pop-ups by changing your browser settings.</span></span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: justify;"><br /><br /></span></span>I was under the impression that I was able to follow instructions, since that it how we as Bahrainis are programmed, but apparently the French have managed to teach me a new lesson this month.<br /><br />What annoys me more than those roadblocks which we face when we Bahrainis attempt to apply for Schengen visas is knowing the ease with with any European just has to flash his passport at our borders for the gates of heaven to open for them.<br /><br />Last year, during the Icelandic volcano, I was stuck in Berlin. I had a four-day visa, and when it expired, I had to go to the police at the airport every single day to get a paper in my passport stamped - because my visa had run out!<br /><br /><br /><a name='more'></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-23307169179012818962011-01-16T14:23:00.003+03:002011-01-16T17:32:08.556+03:00Gaddafi's Internet RantGaddafi addressed the Tunisians. Here's a <a href="http://www.alwatan-libya.com/more.asp?ThisID=13896&ThisCat=1">transcript</a> of his erm... speech and this is, of course, my favourite part:<br /><blockquote><br />حتى أنتم إخواني التوانسة ، ربما أنكم تقرؤون في الكلينكس هذا ، والكلام الفارغ في الإنترنت . وهذا الإنترنت ، الذي أي واحد أهبل ؛ يسكر ويحط فيه أي كلام ، هل تصدقه !. الإنترنت هذا مثل الكناسة التي ترمي فيها أي حاجة ، فأي واحد تافه ؛ أي واحد كذاب ؛ أي واحد سكران ؛ أي واحد مخمور ؛ واحد شارب الأفيون ؛ يقدر يقول أي كلام في الإنترنت ، وأنتم تقرؤونه وتصدقونه .. هذا كلام بدون فلوس.. هل نصبح نحن ضحية لـ «فيسبوك» وضحية «الكلينكس « وضحية «يوتيوب»!، نصبح ضحية الأدوات التي صنعوها هم لكي يضحكوا بأمزجتنا !.. نحن نقرر مصيرنا ، حسب الحقائق وحسب حاجتنا.. ثم إن هذا ليس عصر الدم ؛ وعصر الدخان ؛ وعصر الحرق ، وعصر السكاكين ؛ و»الشيتات» ؛والفؤوس .. هذا عصر الجماهير ، المفروض عصر الديمقراطية ؛ كل شيء يا بـ «الإنتخاب ، يا «الاستفتاء» ، يا بالسلطة الشعبية المباشرة ؛ الديمقراطية الشعبية المباشرة .. وليس بـ «الإشاعات» ؛ وبـ «الفيسبوك» ؛ وبـ «اليوتيوب» ؛ وبـ «الكلينكس» ؛ و»ويكيليكس وبرقيات السفراء الأمريكان ، وشبكة المعلومات الدولية الإنترنت هذه هي التي الآن تضحك علينا ، ونهّتكوا في ديارنا ؛ ونمزق ملابسنا ؛ ونقتل أولادنا ، من أجلها .<br /></blockquote>It's always a pleasure reading/listening to Gaddafi speak because you never know what gems will come flying out of that mouth. This is the part which left me in stitches:<br /><br />His Smartiness not only calls Wikileaks Kleenex but says that what's written on the Internet is "empty talk"!!<br /><br />He says:<br /><br /><blockquote>This Internet, which any demented person, any drunk can get drunk and write in, do you believe it? The Internet is like a vacuum cleaner, it can suck anything. Any useless person; any liar; any drunkard; anyone under the influence; anyone high on drugs; can talk on the Internet, and you read what he writes and you believe it. This is talk which is for free. Shall we become the victims of "Facebook" and "Kleenex" and "YouTube"! Shall we become victims to tools they created so that they can laugh at our moods? We decide our destiny, based on facts and our needs. Besides, this is not the era of blood, of smoke, of burning, of knives and axes; this is the era of the people, and supposedly the era of democracy. Everything is by election and referendum, ie, through the people's direct authority, which is the people's direct democracy, and not through rumours, and Facebook, and YouTube, and the Kleenex and the cables of American Ambassadors. This world wide web Internet is laughing at us and damaging our countries; it is tearing up our clothes; and killing our children for it. </blockquote>The thing is, I am yet to find a demented person, under the influence, high on alcohol and drugs, who is able to utter such nonsense!<br /><a name='more'></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-7979210966716807472011-01-16T14:23:00.000+03:002011-01-16T14:24:48.446+03:00Gaddafi's Internet RantGaddafi addressed the Tunisians. Here's a <a href="http://www.alwatan-libya.com/more.asp?ThisID=13896&ThisCat=1">transcript</a> of his erm... speech and this is, of course, my favourite part:<br /><blockquote><br />حتى أنتم إخواني التوانسة ، ربما أنكم تقرؤون في الكلينكس هذا ، والكلام الفارغ في الإنترنت . وهذا الإنترنت ، الذي أي واحد أهبل ؛ يسكر ويحط فيه أي كلام ، هل تصدقه !. الإنترنت هذا مثل الكناسة التي ترمي فيها أي حاجة ، فأي واحد تافه ؛ أي واحد كذاب ؛ أي واحد سكران ؛ أي واحد مخمور ؛ واحد شارب الأفيون ؛ يقدر يقول أي كلام في الإنترنت ، وأنتم تقرؤونه وتصدقونه .. هذا كلام بدون فلوس.. هل نصبح نحن ضحية لـ «فيسبوك» وضحية «الكلينكس « وضحية «يوتيوب»!، نصبح ضحية الأدوات التي صنعوها هم لكي يضحكوا بأمزجتنا !.. نحن نقرر مصيرنا ، حسب الحقائق وحسب حاجتنا.. ثم إن هذا ليس عصر الدم ؛ وعصر الدخان ؛ وعصر الحرق ، وعصر السكاكين ؛ و»الشيتات» ؛والفؤوس .. هذا عصر الجماهير ، المفروض عصر الديمقراطية ؛ كل شيء يا بـ «الإنتخاب ، يا «الاستفتاء» ، يا بالسلطة الشعبية المباشرة ؛ الديمقراطية الشعبية المباشرة .. وليس بـ «الإشاعات» ؛ وبـ «الفيسبوك» ؛ وبـ «اليوتيوب» ؛ وبـ «الكلينكس» ؛ و»ويكيليكس وبرقيات السفراء الأمريكان ، وشبكة المعلومات الدولية الإنترنت هذه هي التي الآن تضحك علينا ، ونهّتكوا في ديارنا ؛ ونمزق ملابسنا ؛ ونقتل أولادنا ، من أجلها .<br /></blockquote><br /><a name='more'></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-43887929298628496152011-01-14T20:21:00.003+03:002011-01-14T20:37:07.665+03:00Covering the Tunisian UprisingMy Twitterfeed is going crazy - thanks to the fast paced developments in Tunisia and it doesn't look like things will slow down anytime soon. I am fortifying myself with an assortment of tea and banishing my gang of seven cats to another part of the house to sit back and watch and report on the unfolding historic events in what is now becoming a Twitterised Revolution.<br /><br />My brain seems to have had an information overload, which is all the more ironic since mainstream media first gave the Tunisian uprising the cold shoulder, before being lured back to covering its shocking horrible details after the blood of the unarmed and the helpless was splattered across our screens. The complaint was that there wasn't enough information to justify covering a story. Online, the virtual reality is a different story. There, you can find a chronology of blog posts and photographs, videos and tweets, petitions and solidarity calls from far and wide, which provide the backdrop for a live uprising, which we have been witnessing from our little computer screens and handheld toys since December 17.<br /><br />What started as a revolt of the hungry and unemployed soon found root in a country that has been strangled by Ben Ali and his clan for 23 years. The West's model of a stable country turned out to be a sham and their double standards, particularly following Wikileaks' Cablegate expose, has become a screaming shame for anyone with decency.<br /><br />Is it an uprising, a revolt or a rebellion? Who cares? What matters now is that Tunisian people are making their voices heard, using the very tools their government had suppressed since their creation. Videos in the hundreds were posted online showing how the police used live ammunition to suppress protests in a country that had banned and blocked YouTube and other video hosting sites since 2007. The #sidibouzid hashtag became a constant on our Twitterfeed, in the same country activists were arrested in and bloggers and netizens bullied in order to shut them up.<br /><br />In the land of censorship, the world's Enemy of the Internet, is waking up to see that the medium it suppressed all along came to bite it in the dark. I hope there is a lesson for all of us to learn from this and my wishful thinking begs me to hope that it is a lesson of more openness and transparency.<br /><br />Tunisia's woes did not start on December 17 - they go way back. And people were talking and expressing themselves and their worries and concerns in the only medium open to them (online), and they were muzzled.<br /><br />To all the Enemies of the Internet out there, get close to your people and listen to them. Their requirements are in line with all the charters you have signed for as members of the United Nations, as part of your universal responsibility towards your herd. If you do just that, we will have a win-win situation. You can continue to rule your people for life and ensure that you stay in your seats forever after!<br /><br /><br /><a name='more'></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-50733924075885685472011-01-11T13:46:00.003+03:002011-01-11T14:15:26.424+03:00In Bahrain, Only LOW CLASS People Live in Apartments, Says ZainHave you heard about the kettle calling the pot black? Well, it's all in <a href="http://sillybahrainigirl.blogspot.com/2006/08/arabs.html?showComment=1294739147479#c7827881152636677766">this </a>comment which popped in my inbox a few minutes ago. <br /><a name='more'></a><br /><br />Zain writes:<br /><br /><blockquote>Maybe you're just butt ugly and guys don't really give a shit if you're sweating or tired or whatever... seriously, your comments are so racist... if you want to know what rude is, spend a day in New York City, London or Paris. You've probably never left Bahrain and thats why you feel the way you do... Above that, living in a flat in Bahrain you will always encounter people of all classes, no matter how "up market" you claim it to be, because the upper class here, LIVE IN HOUSES with BIG GARDENS. So if you are judging a race by a bunch of no bodies living in flats on top of eachother like sardines, its almost like judging a whole country by spending a day in community housing. Seriously, get an education. RACIST lady.</blockquote><br /><br /><br />I won't comment here on my looks, class or travels, because some of those were bestowed on me by the Almighty, and others I have earned through hard work and dedication.<br /><br />What hurt me in this comment is the condescending manner in which people in my Bahrain look at their fellow Bahrainis, particularly those not born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Overnight, the simple humble Bahraini has become materialistic, with Prada, Louis Vuitton and Gucci (not that I am not a sucker for them, but that is something between me, myself and I to come to terms with when I grow up) replacing manners, education and simply being human. <br /><br />Girls check out how other girls are decked and their friend-worthiness is judged by their Jimmy Choo and their Rolex collections. The make of car you drive opens traffic jams for you and the hairdresser who irons your unruly mane gives you your status in a society which lives its life, oblivious of the suffering of the masses - the poor Bahrainis, who drive a Datsun, who's only brush with luxury is a fake LV and who live stacked, one on top of the other, in government apartments. <br /><br />The comment I got above drives home this point and I am not generalising for I have lived all my life in Bahrain, not counting the lovely four years I thrived in Canada and the four-five pilgrimages I make to wherever my free time, work commitments and fancy take me annually. I encounter Bahrainis daily, Bahrainis living in debt because they need to drive a Lexus and get their daughters Chanel shoes! I see Bahrainis who take loans and buy phones and television sets on instalments because we have turned into a society in love with images - no matter how unrealistic they are. <br /><br />This young woman, who has never seen beyond the tip of her nose, has said that all the Bahrainis living in flats in Bahrain are "nobodies living on top of each like sardines." And then she has the audacity to call me racist!! I won't even dignify that with a response. <br /><br />Perhaps in our next Cabinet reshuffle, Ms Zain Al Thawadhi should be given the housing portfolio, to ensure that every Bahraini lives in .. what did she say.. oh .. "HOUSES with BIG gardens." And if she does turn down that offer, she can come and work in my BIG garden so that I can give my gardeners Arshad and Mani a much deserved break!SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-87869845298785411682011-01-04T18:50:00.004+03:002011-01-04T19:12:43.018+03:00National Security and the Woman Who Wants to Become an AnimalIsn't it funny how I, along with the rest of Bahrain, read with bewilderment the <a href="http://www.alwasatnews.com/3042/news/read/519033/1.html">news</a> of the Bahraini woman who managed to cross immigration and security at the Bahrain International Airport, board a plane to Oman, actually get out of the airport, past the Omani immigration and security, get into a taxi, and try and a meet a 'wizard' in the hope that he would change her into an animal (I swear that is what the newspapers in Bahrain wrote today) - all without an airline ticket or passport, on the same day that I discover that this blog is blocked in Wonderland? <br /><br /><a name='more'></a><br /><br />And isn't it even more depressing that such a breach of security happens in the post-September 11 era, where we all saw with horror planes crashing into iconic towers in New York, killing thousands of people and scarring the rest of us for life? <br /><br />In a poor country like Bahrain which wastes it's resources on filtering the Internet and censoring its content, suppressing free thought and oppressing bright minds, shouldn't the government spend what is left of its budget in securing our borders and safeguarding the innocent people of Bahrain from any possible threats from people who get into phantom mode and freely travel across the Land of the Lord, without a ticket or passport, or in the case of this woman, money for that matter? <br /><br />How did this happen and what will we read in the newspapers as a follow up to this story? Will we perhaps get the shock of our lives and read that the daydreamers tasked with securing our borders have been questioned and disciplined? <br /><br />And how many more people have been able to sneak past security, get on planes, travel to other countries, without being stopped, or detected? How can this possibly happen at this day and age where our footsteps are being counted and our thoughts censored and repressed even before we get the chance to vent off and jot them down on a piece of paper or post them online using the labouriously slow internet services, we pay for from our hard earned money? <br /><br />Seriousness aside, I don't know what this woman's problem is but I think the fact that she wants to turn into another creature, using the wizardry of our Omani brethren, says a lot about the way many Bahrainis feel about their Bahraininess.SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-48858342162833032492011-01-04T12:44:00.003+03:002011-01-04T13:34:12.623+03:00My Blog is Blocked in Bahrain!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRsb4-8-f84FhN8lh23kZTgAIY3kvvs2GMLFXulMk9e2JA8gpoOYWZWKvddbB0W7uIQqcmCvsVxgaqABJggMehFNVSU3uf8hxBdpV4vRj6QHfuO5fkzWXoU2Om_fUkQNJSxmRBvw/s1600/Picture+14.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRsb4-8-f84FhN8lh23kZTgAIY3kvvs2GMLFXulMk9e2JA8gpoOYWZWKvddbB0W7uIQqcmCvsVxgaqABJggMehFNVSU3uf8hxBdpV4vRj6QHfuO5fkzWXoU2Om_fUkQNJSxmRBvw/s320/Picture+14.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558266108978221186" /></a><br />My deserted blog has been blocked in Bahrain. Out of the blue, I get a message that my blog has been "blocked for violating regulations and laws of Bahrain" when I tried to access it this morning. <br />What laws and regulations have I violated you dimwits? And how exactly can you block me from writing and expressing myself? And once you have stopped me from accessing my website through your firewall of repression, how can you stop the rest of the world from seeing how childish and arrogant your heavy-handedness on free speech is? <br /><br /><a name='more'></a><br /><br />Today, you have proved to me without doubt that you are a regime which lives in fear - in fear of the written word and free minds. You have tried to silence me for no reason. You have stepped on my toes. You have violated my rights. You don't know what animal you have unleashed. <br /><br />I have turned a blind eye on the violations that you commit everyday and amid my moral and ethical dilemma pressed on with life, keeping myself busy with my home, family and cats. Yes, you morons. To numb my mind from the atrocities you commit everyday in the name of my country, my Bahrain, I spend my mornings grooming my seven Persian cats. If you need to know, I actually spend a few hours a day combing them and another few hours playing with them. I have curtailed my writing activities when I realised that whatever we write and say is useless, in a country hellbent on distorting the truth and alienating its own people. <br /><br />I have kept my mouth shut when a minister from your cabinet spoke on television and lied, saying there are no poor people in Bahrain, despite the daily miseries we see with our very own eyes everyday. <br /><br />I have ignored comments from your government officials saying that the unemployed in Bahrain do not want to work, despite not getting a suitable job in Bahrain since my return to my wonderland more than 18 months ago. Yes, someone with my experience and credentials is unemployed in Bahrain because I have not had the heart to start feeling sorry for myself and talk to people who know people who can employ me. <br /><br />When your minister in charge of housing spoke on television, stating that every Bahraini had in fact benefited from decent adequate government housing, my jaw fell but I did not blog about it. I was too busy at the time looking for a house within my budget to provide me with shelter from the elements, including the goons on the streets, pointing their guns at passers-by. <br /><br />And when you had your infamous crackdown on the 'disenchanted dissidents,' I was on holiday, protecting myself from witnessing the horrors you are committing on your own people, just because you think they are not your people. I also bit my tongue and swallowed it, when a leading figure spoke in a television interview, defending the Shia of Bahrain, saying that their allegiance is not for Iran. Like we now have to defend ourselves for being Bahraini - for being the downtrodden second-class (third-class if you are a woman) Bahrainis, who happened to live on this land for generations. <br /><br />And speaking of television, I did not write a post when the ticker on your national television screen called Bahrain's Shia 'rewafedh' - a derogatory term coined by the mountain goats - and hurled insults on my people, who also happen to be Bahrainis to the core, unlike the tens of thousands of naturalised Bahrainis you have imported en masse to change the demographic population of my country - my Bahrain. <br /><br />What laws and regulations have I violated for my blog to be blocked? And how exactly can you block me? How do you intend to silence me? You can stop my readers from accessing my posts in Bahrain, but how would you shield the rest of the world from seeing the truth as it is, without censorship and repression? <br /><br />In conclusion, allow me to correct you. You are the ones violating the Constitution in denying me and scores of other bloggers the right to express our opinions. Signing the Human Rights Charter wasn't just a show for the rest of the world. We don't live in a circus.SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-56570968413664045012010-12-05T12:07:00.005+03:002010-12-05T13:58:55.185+03:00Seriously? Why do I still get blocked pages?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_bFzpTi8yCX5siIrzNX_SOCL3D5Du1StUBRzeK-S4yVvOvtAOeebtkW2-CfwNyjnCt0KdlWCt6wg-AYZY1w6Tt3GU6esziWXwNe57wBDPvE1ESqJUjUO2yBcBup3eROu8Gqcujg/s1600/Picture+12.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 275px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_bFzpTi8yCX5siIrzNX_SOCL3D5Du1StUBRzeK-S4yVvOvtAOeebtkW2-CfwNyjnCt0KdlWCt6wg-AYZY1w6Tt3GU6esziWXwNe57wBDPvE1ESqJUjUO2yBcBup3eROu8Gqcujg/s320/Picture+12.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547122540455741442" /></a><br /><br />Well, well, well. There are 101 blog posts in my head waiting to be written. There are another 1001 'urgent' and not too urgent articles waiting to be typed. And there is a life waiting to be lived. In the meanwhile, all that I am doing is waiting. Waiting for Summer to turn into Winter, and Spring into Autumn - not that we really have seasons in Bahrain, but you get the the idea. <br /><br /><a name='more'></a><br /><br />The truth is that I have been waiting. Just simply plainly waiting. Waiting for things to change. Waiting for life to get better - and not even keeping track of time. It really hits me as a surprise when I realise that it's a Friday, for instance, because everyday has become a Friday for me. And I kid you not, I did a somersault when I saw today's date and realised that we just have a few more eye blinks until the end of the year. Two or three at the most, especially at the rate I am going in. <br /><br />Ask me not what I did in 2010 for the answer is null. Nada. Nada. Nada. And don't you dare tell me that I am being ungrateful or hard on myself because sometime ago I made a pact with myself not to jump over to the dark side, and I have kept that promise. I have continued to remain upbeat and positive (sort of), I have continued to keep my house tidy (sometimes), and I have played with, fed and groomed my cats without fail on all the days I have been in Bahrain. <br /><br />Like me, Bahrain has tried to remain the same this past year. But unlike me, it has gone to the dark side - to a place of nightmares, hallucinations and dark thoughts. A place of schemes, webs and plots, and hilariously laughable mind games which we continue to pay the price for. And just as I have sheltered myself from all the bad things in life, content with a very small group of relatives and friends and my non-sectarian gang of 11 cats, Bahrain has shut itself up in a self-made cocoon, weaved with lies and half-truths and sealed with frustrations. What baffles me the most is when intelligent people fall into the trap of lying on themselves and believing in those lies. How does that really work? Yes, politics is a dirty game but do we really have to accept the fact that we are being gagged and our thoughts are being monitored for the common good? Do we really need to continue sticking our heads in the sand and get all that dirt into our eyes so that we can blame the desert for our blindness? <br /><br />What good does it make to censor whole swats of the Internet? How does that work again when even the least technical person among us can bypass that proxy and dig into the world wide web, reading and learning and understanding? When have we become a nation that loathes itself and become an enemy of openness and transparency? Why do we still get those wretched blocked pages and worst of all, why are we all so quiet about it? <br /><br />Why is Google Translate, for instance, blocked? What purpose does that serve in a country which prides itself for being at the forefront of education, development and breakthroughs and what breakthroughs do we exactly pride ourselves of? Seriously. Come on! Will we ever reach a stage where we are treated as mature citizens or will we continue to live happily basking in the thought that we are subjects in our Wonderland? Or are the rights and responsibilities too big a chore for us to bear? Just asking.SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-40743468229073568252010-07-29T13:44:00.005+03:002010-07-29T14:02:01.941+03:00MEOW!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQg8cq9VnwCbjDRzW_BXARPbgtiifZhZC05H_A6epBQZbZbnimFuchwmfRnNfkydH2z8dbmfGRRnfai5gRgLRn7deGITa65qevnaNZyLW-ozjeh6pmD8z9ob0cjzXyDPjoHnwiiQ/s1600/DSC_0017.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQg8cq9VnwCbjDRzW_BXARPbgtiifZhZC05H_A6epBQZbZbnimFuchwmfRnNfkydH2z8dbmfGRRnfai5gRgLRn7deGITa65qevnaNZyLW-ozjeh6pmD8z9ob0cjzXyDPjoHnwiiQ/s320/DSC_0017.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499278677564507506" /></a><br />It's been a while and I don't really know where to start!<br />Moving back to Bahrain has certainly been more stressful than I had anticipated and the year I have been back simply evapourated. It just vanished and I have not much to account for it except this lovely litter of cats, who meow day and night - real suckers for attention.<br /><a name='more'></a><br /><br />Last Valentine's, my better half decided to surprise me with two cats, aptly named Twitter and Flickr. Unbeknown to me, Twitter was expecting. A quick visit to the vet for their jabs confirmed the inevitable, and two months down the road I was charged with caring for five kittens. When people talk about bundles of joy, they totally miss the point if they don't visualise those furry, purring, adorable angels from heaven. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwUFnY_YXIu5h72XctlZJop6a3jvGyqZr34JioZaUCWFQnvAi7Gfw7gOLY71wSQcM0-euQL3aigRg91Jh-klMkgru5FwHZI9NNeAPxnAFLkLrTQf-A-tY7Abl8iFpoUbjzB4RAZg/s1600/DSC_0136.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwUFnY_YXIu5h72XctlZJop6a3jvGyqZr34JioZaUCWFQnvAi7Gfw7gOLY71wSQcM0-euQL3aigRg91Jh-klMkgru5FwHZI9NNeAPxnAFLkLrTQf-A-tY7Abl8iFpoUbjzB4RAZg/s320/DSC_0136.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499280273967974178" /></a> <br /><br />Needless to say, they take up most of my time - and energy. When they were first born, friends earmarked my babies for themselves and I smiled and nodded and procrastinated and stopped answering certain phone calls! <br /><br />I totally understand that seven cats is a bit too much - and appreciate the world's concern, for both the cats and my well-being. Right now, I run the risk of being described as the crazy old woman with lots of cats, and who is also silly, and if I had more than one middle finger I would have taken immense joy in waving them!<br /><br />My life, my choice, my cats!SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-64314815289657229332010-02-04T09:55:00.006+03:002010-02-04T10:15:05.357+03:00Chicken Soup for Me; Chicken Shit for You!He is suggesting I take chicken soup to cure my flu - a ridiculous ailment that has decided to attack my fragile (state of mind) and which doesn't want to go away. It seems that I am stuck with this situation and as much as it (the flu) loves me, I can't stand it. I am fed up of a clogged nose and ears - and a headache, which I am having difficulty getting used to. <a name='more'></a><br />
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Enough about my flu and back to the chicken soup he is suggesting. In my feverish bout, me, myself and I think we should get into the car and drive ourselves to the nearby Isa Town suq, and get some chickens. In no time, the chickens should become friendly with each other and start laying eggs; the eggs, I can use for breakfast and baking, and sit on the rest until they hatch. The hatched chickens will repeat cycle A and I can be in business. <br />
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As a side kick, I can live happily ever after packing the chicken shit in containers and selling it to you for your organic farm. <br />
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I know. Too much cold and flu medication does cloud your judgment.SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-9074859317499697812010-01-19T01:02:00.004+03:002010-01-20T20:17:43.519+03:00Shut Down the Internet.. PleaseThe ridiculousness of my Wonderland doesn't confuse me anymore. There isn't anything logical or rational about it but then I am not saying anything new really am I? <br />
Why am I ranting? I am ranting because of all the random blocked sites and the fact that we are silent about it all. <a name='more'></a><br />
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Take today for instance. A friend of mine sent me a picture of a golden Ferrari, owned by X prince from NeverNeverLand. I rolled my eyes in horror (not that I would say no if it was handed to me for FREE on a golden platter) and went to my bible Google for a consultation. I search 'gold ferrari' - I try clicking on a link .. and horror oh horror .. the site is BLOCKED and here's a screenshot to prove that I am not delusional but simply confused and horrified at the ridiculousness of such bans. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdI8EOCOPnHeYnXhPFOAOZ34oFTBehpULI3lkFs_P5Ze3XR6ckc5xOXU6T1yUBkrwzyJ3cpibOpzwD4hSes4xRUrDb-4gB66iJ8UZhUfnToU4ieHEv0hs1UvRRbBbkqzmSvhYpw/s1600-h/Picture+12.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428205235024447666" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdI8EOCOPnHeYnXhPFOAOZ34oFTBehpULI3lkFs_P5Ze3XR6ckc5xOXU6T1yUBkrwzyJ3cpibOpzwD4hSes4xRUrDb-4gB66iJ8UZhUfnToU4ieHEv0hs1UvRRbBbkqzmSvhYpw/s320/Picture+12.png" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 178px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" align="left"></a>Desperate times call for desperate measures and my heart really goes out to the apparatus in this country tasked with monitoring the Internet and censoring those sites. It takes time, money and real bad publicity (have you seen how Bahrain's ranking is slipping lower and lower in international indicators on freedom, transparency, democracy and all those sound bites we all seem so knowledgeable about?) To save us all this stress, I, someone with very humble experience in this field, would like to suggest something for the powers out there: Please please please end this farce. Shut down the Internet. Come and confiscate all our computers and toys, creations of infidels and signs of Satanist worship. Let's go back to our roots. And since we live in the desert, let's teach our children how to make clay tablets - and the rest as they say is history :)SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-63078261983382838062009-12-10T14:04:00.008+03:002009-12-11T14:53:39.484+03:00From Beirut, With LoveGreetings from Beirut, a city which makes me choke at times, knowing what it has been through and sympathising with what it could go through. While many let go and enjoy the moment, including all the Lebanese here who know how to live the moment and deserve to, I just can't. Not in Beirut, not anywhere else. One day maybe. Not today. <br />
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Today, we are at the <a href="http://www.arabloggers.com/">Arab Bloggers</a> meeting, the second. It started with a conversation, a dream, or for people who know me, a moan. "Why can't we have something like this for Arab bloggers?" I told Tunisian <a href="http://samibengharbia.com/">Sami ben Gharbia</a>, my colleague at <a href="http://www.globalvoicesonline.org/">Global Voices</a>, as we Skyped with him from Miami last year.<a name='more'></a><br />
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Thanks to Sami's relentless efforts, and funding from <a href="http://www.boell-ameo.org/">The Heinrich Böll Foundation</a> and <a href="http://globalvoicesonline.org/">Global Voices Online</a>, with support from <a href="http://www.hivos.nl/eng">HIVOS</a> and the <a href="http://www.soros.org/">Open Society Institute</a>, we meet in Beirut today: Around 80 bloggers from 19 countries. <br />
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Bloggers from Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Sudan, Palestine, Syria, Lebanon, Egypt, Tunisia, Mauritania, Somalia, Morocco, Algeria, Oman, Tunisia and Yemen are here - as well as Americans, a Brit, a Dutch, a few Germans and a Bolivian. <br />
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We are all gathered here, from December 8 to 12, to discuss all that there is to talk about related to blogging, citizen journalism, new media and how to get people talking to each other and connecting with one another. The event is super friendly, with many of us having met before or connected virtually and it is a big happy party. <br />
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There is a lot of work too - as people network and learn from each other, attend one presentation after the other, try to clone themselves to attend as many workshops as they possibly can fit into and continue to have an overwhelming sense of awe and appreciation for all that is happening. Being at such gatherings, meetings that have been put together carefully and where all the participants are genuine, is a humbling experience. <br />
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The Internet connection is so so here. The tech people are trying their best. For regular updates, tune into to #ab09 on Twitter, where I tweet as <a href="http://twitter.com/JustAmira">@JustAmira</a><br />
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If there is anything blogging or citizen media related you would like to touch on, please contact me or send me a direct message on Twitter and we will try to accommodate as much of the feedback we get. <br />
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Stay tuned, and happy and safe blogging.SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-1227216198465141982009-10-08T07:40:00.008+03:002009-12-17T14:02:58.402+03:00Drama, drama queens and beggarsI know it doesn't warrant a post on its own - or me breaking my blogging silence with a debut post about her. Seriously. She doesn't deserve the attention. But I guess I have to do it and I will. It will be therapeutic so please dim the lights and here we go! And also, I haven't had time to write here because I have been really busy but that isn't my story today, this is:<br />
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It started on the second day I arrived in Bahrain. I landed at night and by noon, I was sat at the kitchen table when she walked in. She looked at me and yelled: "Ya3333eeeeee3, what have you done to yourself. You look terrible."<a name='more'></a><br />
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<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW_m2gk2mFC2idgebdQZUWR-I1z8iQdaOYjtTFbQRXDfcjW1vkZpYYhjZlO4SNkiy5Oe5N0o28vkQplbPqjb4O34luxDQhQFE9i-yhV2ZFpe3LJhxLNKR_KTSRpT3Utz55MZ6RUA/s1600-h/Picture+1.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 223px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW_m2gk2mFC2idgebdQZUWR-I1z8iQdaOYjtTFbQRXDfcjW1vkZpYYhjZlO4SNkiy5Oe5N0o28vkQplbPqjb4O34luxDQhQFE9i-yhV2ZFpe3LJhxLNKR_KTSRpT3Utz55MZ6RUA/s320/Picture+1.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390090819705891458" /></a>Unlike her, I don't cake my face with layers of make up the minute I wake up. So, I was sat at home, not wearing make up - something I do without shame, even when I go out. It isn't like I was sitting in front of her without clothes. Besides, there isn't anything wrong with my face for me to conceal and there is no law that I should be sparkling at all hours. The last time I checked I was a human being with soul and substance and not a lightbulb with orange lipstick and blue eye shadow (I swear she does wear that). And while I don't really want to talk about God's creations, hers is a serious case and she seriously needs the immediate intervention of one of those cosmetic surgeons at her young age of 48. I know the fact that her husband is a good 12 years younger than she is is leaving this huge dent on her self-confidence - but her problems and issues aren't really for me to solve, not on my first day in the country or ever. I won't go where certified shrinks have failed. It isn't worth it.<br />
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Next up, she asks me how long I will continue being without a car. Now, for those of you unaware of the SHITuation, I was away from Bahrain for almost FOUR years: Out of this country in another one where I had a car. In this country, there was no use for me to keep a car because I was not here. I had just been in the country for less than a day and she asks me why I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">STILL</span> don't have a car. I thanked her for her concern and told her the truth - that I had just returned from looking at cars and was considering a few options. This was my first day in Bahrain, after all. And she knew all this, and she knew that not having a car on your first morning isn't a crime.<br />
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She then dons the advisor's robe - something I had not asked for - and something I won't welcome from her, an uneducated insecure woman who doesn't know how to run her life and who has had a fight (I swear) with each and every single household in this extended family!<br />
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She tells me that when I chose a car, I must select a car "my level;" When I asked her what my level was, she said: "You know: a Corolla or a Camry. Something which suits your level." Now there isn't anything wrong with Toyotas. But what's with "my level." And why is she saying it in such a condescending manner?<br />
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Shocked, I ask her why she doesn't think I could get myself a Lexus or a BMW. You should have seen the smirk on her sorry face: She screamed and said that people who look at those cars are people with money in their pockets and not you - pointing at me. I don't ever remember discussing my finances with her - and I know this is low - but I have to spit it out: or I won't.<br />
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By the afternoon, a friend picked me up from home and we looked at other car showrooms. I saw one I liked and booked it. When I returned home, she was sat waiting for me. Grilling session two started.<br />
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"You still have no car?" she asks, with that stupid smile.<br />
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"Not yet. But I booked one," I answer when I shouldn't have.<br />
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"What did you get?" she asks.<br />
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"A Camry," I lie.<br />
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"What colour?" she questions, as if it will make a difference in her life.<br />
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"Black," I tell her, not knowing what will hit me next.<br />
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Man, you should have heard that scream which came out from her ugly trap - as if I had just performed Female Genital Mutilation on her.<br />
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"A black Camry. YA3333333EEEEEEEEEEEEEE33333333. That is so disgusting. You are making my stomach turn," she yells at no one in particular.<br />
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Again. What does my car have to do with her and her life and her stupidity? I ignore the freak and go up to my room (I am staying with my in laws until I get a house of my own - more on that in another post).<br />
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The next day, she is again at it - asking about what car I am getting. A Camry I lie to her. More drama. You know, I think I need to stop this before it grows. I tell her as long as I am disgusting, and I look disgusting, and then there is this thing about "my level" and she has a serious problem with my carlessness - we better not talk to each other because I have nothing I would like to exchange with her and then leave.<br />
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You can guess the rest of the drama and what happens to her when she sees the car my husband got me as a GIFT!!!SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-30806123358099433802009-08-22T17:57:00.002+03:002009-12-14T22:57:55.142+03:00Let's Ramadan .. or maybe ...<div id="qp_main16744" style="border:1px solid black;margin:10px;padding:10px;padding-bottom:12px;background-color:rgb(44,97,141)"><div style="font-family:Arial;font-size:12px;font-weight:bold;background-color:rgb(18,50,90);width:80%;color:white"><div style="padding:10px">Do you feel like Ramadaning this year?<br />
</div></div><form id="qp_form16744" action="http://poll.learnmyself.com/results16744x55BD4a62" method="post" target="_blank" style="padding:0px;margin-top:10px"><div style="width:100%"><div style="display:block;padding-top:5px;padding-bottom:5px;clear:both;width:100%font-family:Arial;font-size:12px;color:white;"><span style="display:block;padding-left:30px"><input style="float:left;width:25px;margin-left:-25px;margin-top:-1px;padding:0px;height:18px" name="qp_v16744" type="radio" value="1">yes</span></div><div style="display:block;padding-top:5px;padding-bottom:5px;clear:both;width:100%font-family:Arial;font-size:12px;color:white;"><span style="display:block;padding-left:30px"><input style="float:left;width:25px;margin-left:-25px;margin-top:-1px;padding:0px;height:18px" name="qp_v16744" type="radio" value="2">no </span></div><div style="display:block;padding-top:5px;padding-bottom:5px;clear:both;width:100%font-family:Arial;font-size:12px;color:white;"><span style="display:block;padding-left:30px"><input style="float:left;width:25px;margin-left:-25px;margin-top:-1px;padding:0px;height:18px" name="qp_v16744" type="radio" value="3">doesn't matter</span></div><div style="display:block;padding-top:5px;padding-bottom:5px;clear:both;width:100%font-family:Arial;font-size:12px;color:white;"><span style="display:block;padding-left:30px"><input style="float:left;width:25px;margin-left:-25px;margin-top:-1px;padding:0px;height:18px" name="qp_v16744" type="radio" value="4">does it matter</span></div></div><div style="padding-top:10px;clear:both"><input name="qp_b16744" style="width:80px;margin-right:5px" type="submit" value="Vote"><input name="qp_b16744" style="width:80px;margin-right:5px" type="submit" value="Results"></div><span style="background-image:url(http://imgs.learnmyself.com/p16744x55BD4a62_128_0.gif);"></span><a id="qp_a16744" style="float:right;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;color:white;text-decoration:none;margin-top:-2px;margin-right:-5px" href="http://www.jewelryartdesigns.com/jewelry-jad.asp?p=Promise-Rings" target="_blank">promise ring</a></form></div><script src="http://scripts.learnmyself.com/3001/scpolls.js" language="javascript"></script>SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-1668575052622197982009-08-15T12:20:00.005+03:002009-12-17T13:59:08.811+03:00something is amissThe dust and heat are wreaking havoc with me. For some reason, the floodgates of tears waiting to be unleashed have evaporated and all that is left is a trickle which resembles a constipated pee, forcing itself to come out when nothing else in this barren desert wants to move. <br />
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I have been having this urge to cry for a few days .. perhaps a week or more .. certainly more .. and the tears just refuse to fall. These are the same tears which come to me naturally, the very tears I expertly summon or shyly wipe away, depending on the occasion and audience. They too have let me down. <a name='more'></a><br />
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And now they refuse to cooperate, leaving me with prickly dry eyes, a heavy feeling in my chest and a sense of uselessness. I haven't quite figured out what it is that is creating this feeling when I tell myself how thankful I should be now that I am back home, to my family and friends, a job and a social life. Amid all this, something is amiss. And in all this noise, all I want is a quiet corner, where I can rest my head and cry. Once I have let those tears out, perhaps I might become more enlightened and know what it is I so need to cry over.SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-59593453646002794352009-07-22T12:04:00.003+03:002009-12-17T13:59:40.506+03:00Looking UpThings are looking up .. and are improving dramatically. I think it is finally dawning upon me that my return to my Wonderland is not only real, but permanent; that the next time I pack a bag, it will be for a short trip to somewhere nice on holiday, or for a business trip or whatever reason people travel for. <br />
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And to rub it in some more, I have actually managed to unpack my bags and placed my spoils of shopping in cupboards; and have gone furniture shopping and bought yet another huge closet to fit the rest. <a name='more'></a><br />
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In the meantime, my better half has bought me a little car, which I managed to lose in a huge car park in one of the new developments, where I went for a job interview. Yes, I am looking for a job now that I am back and seeing what options are available for someone of my calibre in such a volatile market makes absolute sense. <br />
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That's all from me. And I found my car. Thanks for asking! SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-39486884062737943702009-07-19T10:12:00.004+03:002009-12-17T14:01:50.678+03:00Not Embracing ChangeTeething problems we all know about but how long does it really take for teeth to grow and problems with gums and molars to go away? <div><br />
</div><div>I have been contemplating teething problems for a while now. In fact, it's been a few years. But years now move at the speed of light, so before you know it, it's time up and someone else's turn to take command of the joystick. <a name='more'></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>What I haven't given much thought to is the reason for all those teething problems and the answer could be that perhaps maybe somewhere inside me is a reluctant shy little girl who refuses to grow up, let go of dreams and accept life for all its wrongs and injustices and just go with the iffing flow. </div><div><br />
</div><div>And until I am ready to let go or rather until I actually let go, stomach up courage and go on that monstrous roller coaster (doesn't matter if I get nightmares at night or vomit in private after the ride), I will continue to be a mere by stander with a difference - someone who has always done exactly what I wanted even when forced to obey others instructions and see them smile stupidly at themselves, smug in their knowledge that the mission has been accomplished. </div>SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-18179704026482599982009-07-14T11:12:00.005+03:002009-12-17T14:01:29.154+03:00Only in the Kingdom of Bahrain<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj-oWNGS0aPWisvDkt4k0SpiZZ8Xli-yQO6c6VIYGT4nraaSQ1lu_4S6nb6DC1y38bWVqE2tnSA1prHyiMa7p-X_7srW4G9DY4uZjIoxXjlUbr3cgGHAunDvoUwuFZigv5DDWNuQ/s1600-h/Picture+7.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 187px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj-oWNGS0aPWisvDkt4k0SpiZZ8Xli-yQO6c6VIYGT4nraaSQ1lu_4S6nb6DC1y38bWVqE2tnSA1prHyiMa7p-X_7srW4G9DY4uZjIoxXjlUbr3cgGHAunDvoUwuFZigv5DDWNuQ/s320/Picture+7.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358227842373673538" /></a>Sat in the Kingdom of Bahrain, trying to surf the Internet. I must be out of my mind right? Of course I am. <div><br />
<div>My friends have sent me a link to a site which makes T-shirts, asking me what I think of the T-shirts which promote love, friendship and goodwill. Certainly this must be a legitimate cause anywhere else in the world, but not in my Kingdom of Bahrain. Someone with a brain the size of a bird must have decided that websites which sell T-shirts are against the laws of the Kingdom of Bahrain and its Constitution, and that I, a subject of the Kingdom of Bahrain, shall refrain from accessing any sites of such nature until further notice. <a name='more'></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>So my dear friends around the world, please note that I am no longer in a place where I decide which sites to access and which I should not, for I am no longer a human being with the right to self-determination. I totally realise that accessing a site is no big deal. I know I can continue living without having to see a site which produces and sells T-shirts online. I am sane enough to know that I have lived all my life not missing out on things because the T-shirt site is blocked in my country. This is not why I am annoyed. I am annoyed because I am now a subject and no longer a human being in my home country, that I am someone who has draconian rules shoved down my throat from the minute I wake up to the minute I knock myself off to sleep and accessing this T-shirt site is only one hurdle I had to cross today.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Who decides why I can or cannot access my T-shirt site and why? And who determines what information I can access and what I can't and why? And who is the dodo who still doesn't know that every roadblock now has an eight-lane tunnel dug under it, where those surfing the Internet are not only breaking the speed limit without concern for your blocks but are also doing <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doughnut_(driving)">doughnuts</a> in broad daylight?</div><div><br />
</div><div>And then you read in the papers.. but that is another story for another day. </div></div>SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-44720654666300582712009-07-05T19:06:00.009+03:002009-12-17T14:00:53.709+03:00Coming Home to a Sick PlaceI am back in Bahrain and not so really back as being back here needs a certain state of mind which I am too busy and tired at present to stoop down to. I don't mean this in a condescending manner at all, for my love to this place and its people (at least the decent ones who aren't stupid) is unmatched and hasn't changed and never will. <br />
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Reality of how mad this place has become smacks you in the face the second you land at the Bahrain International Airport and see all the ground staff wearing surgical masks, from the ground handling staff to the immigration and customs officers. "What's wrong with you?" I ask them. "Is there a plague in Bahrain?" I continue questioning. "Is it that bad down there? Do you have masks for my husband and I too or should we subject ourselves to whatever diseases you are carrying?" I plead, all the time all the people I ask continue to laugh and ignore my questions. <a name='more'></a><br />
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I seriously wasn't trying to be funny as the situation seemed tense and and the level of swine madness was certainly the highest I have come across everywhere I have travelled through since pig mania gripped Planet Earth. Why wasn't there a single person wearing a mask at the airports of San Francisco, Chicago, Toronto and Heathrow which I have travelled through over the past few weeks? <br />
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People I spoke to all reassure me it is part of the government's measures to ensure that the disease doesn't spread in Bahrain, which is really a noble task I whole-heartedly appreciate and support. Thank you government for protecting us from Swine flu, for censoring the Internet, for telling us what to read and what not to read, what to think and what not to think, what to believe in and what not to believe in and what is right and what is wrong. Without your benevolent wisdom and gracious directions, we the little subjects wouldn't know what to do, or think or behave or believe in. Without your kindness and charity, we wouldn't have homes, or cars, or electricity, or running water, or sewerage, or roads, even those which take forever and ever to build, or the Internet, even that which is censored and slow and sluggish. <br />
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And no. I don't see the glass half empty. I see no glass. It has been stolen and I am now investigating who stole it while I was away. And of course, I will grumble and grumble and grumble. And this is the first take.SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-89816336954629392342009-06-01T19:48:00.003+03:002009-06-01T21:28:13.240+03:00The Packing Saga ContinuesThe boxes have all decided to huddle up in a corner. And I am keeping to mine. I don't know how long this stand off will continue for, but I know it can't last for ever. One of us will cave in. Either the boxes will fill themselves, or I will take action into my own hands and do that silly chore for them. After all I am a capable human being, born to be a manager, a visionary rather - who sits back and issues orders veiled as suggestions and requests, of course. <div><br /></div><div>My biggest dilemma is not packing - but rather what to take with me and what to leave behind. I fully understand that things are things are things. Just things. But all those things have sentimental value to me. As a self-confessed shopaholic, with a social consciousness, I have taken it upon myself to keep the economies of the countries I have been through going, and the catalogue of damage is evident in the junk I have amassed. True, I have ferried a lot of the spoils of those indulgences back to the homeland, with every trip back to Bahrain and as a result I have rooms full of my 'stuff' in three different homes in Bahrain waiting for me to uncover what I have hidden in them. </div><div><br /></div><div>But you know as much as I do that whatever goes into boxes will remain there forever after, or until the things decide to come to life and reach out of their boxes. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sigh! And I thought I had a frugal existence here. If that was the case what are those closets full of? Call them stuff, rubbish or junk, deciding what to do or not do with them is proving to be extremely difficult. </div><div><br /></div><div>Help!</div>SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-26590692963026980442009-05-27T23:08:00.001+03:002009-05-27T23:08:10.166+03:00انفلونزا الخنازير حلال أو حرام؟؟؟<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'>اذا الخنزير حرام وانفلونزا الخنازير تنتقل من الخنزير إلى الإنسان، فهل انفلونزا الخنازير حرام أم حلال؟؟<br />هذا سؤال شرعي وباللغة العربية علشان اللي ما يفهمون عربي ما يضحكون علينة!!!!</div>SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-8322406779046150152009-05-27T20:11:00.002+03:002009-05-27T21:02:21.179+03:00Packing ...So sorry my last post was "deep"-ressing .. Was up to my usual antics and firing off in all directions, with each line of that post dedicated to a different person. Had so much time on my hands, you see. <div><br /></div><div>Anyway, after my stint on the sofa, my neck and the sofa along with the left side of my lower back decided to get into a squabble. I tried to mediate and tell them each to get a life, but they continued to argue until I had to forcefully separate them. So now the sofa is left all alone in the living room, with the boxes, which have also developed a life of their own and creating mischief. Let's see if the sofa is able to do all that work on its own. Me, my neck and back will stay here in the safety of my study until my better half is home to deal with this domestic dispute. Meanwhile, the sofa decided on confiscate the remote control and TV too. Damn. What am I gonna do with the rest of my day? </div><div><br /></div><div>To add insult to injury it's cloudy and going to rain. I cut a deal with someone yesterday that if he manages to make the shisha work, and let me have as many puffs as I want, I will give him the shisha, plus a year's supply of tobacco in return. It is one of several shisha kits I brought with me when I came to Canada to create a Middle Eastern ambiance in this forsaken land. Needless to say, I wasn't able to operate the damned piece of machinery. And with the weather not behaving itself today, I think I am stuck indoors with my shisha and tobacco and the fire alarm. Not that I will attempt to ignite the shisha indoors. I am not desperate. It has been sat in its corner for four years and we have both not complained. </div><div><br /></div><div>The fire alarm and I don't get along too. Every time I operate the piece of equipment better known as an oven in some parts of the civilised world, the alarm goes off. I really don't have the patience for screamers. So every time it starts yelling, like a prostitute who hasn't been paid after the lamest sex ever, I just walk away from it. Screamers realise that they are wasting their breath when you ignore them and eventually shut up. And my manners don't allow me to stoop that low and engage with noise makers whose only mandate in life is to draw attention to themselves. </div><div><br /></div><div>And then what's with prostitutes and all this discrimination against them. Like, if men weren't so needy and grubby, there wouldn't be prostitutes right? But this isn't the time for talking about prostitutes and men. I have work to do, and packing and boxes. And no time. Remember how my time is up. So up in fact that it is dragging me down.</div><div><br /></div><div>So the boxes are here and you would think it's easy to find manageable boxes right? Wrong. The only decent boxes you can find here are the ones you purchase from UHaul. I tried to skimp and look for boxes at supermarkets, which only had the open banana boxes - the ones with bananas drawn all around, holes and an open top. Not being a monkey, I decided to dish out some hard earned cash on boxes. That is - to date - the most ridiculous purchase I have completed in my life. And don't you get any weird ideas as my relationship with money is that of a fool. No matter what we do, we are soon parted. But money isn't the issue. It never is. Seriously. </div><div><br /></div><div>Back to the boxes, I bought, with actual money. I get the biggest boxes and decide that they will become the temporary home of all our books. And we do consume books. Books. Dangerous collections of words. Words. Lethal combinations of letters. Letters. Those come in consonants and vowels. And I can go on till morning if you insist. It is only time that I am burning. Time and, as an after thought, life. Not too sure on that last bit though. But this isn't our issue today. </div><div><br /></div><div>Back to the boxes. Which are stacked with books. Which have become stubborn and refuse to move. The boxes I mean. I can't even slide the full ones to the other end of the room. After all that back bending treacherous manipulation of space, they simply refuse to cooperate. I even arranged the books in order, by genre, with the one dealing with medicine in one box, and the ones dealing with life and love in the other. Funny how medicine and live and love can't exist in one box? Again, I am drifting and this again isn't the issue or focus of this post. Seriously. </div><div><br /></div><div>Back to the boxes and the domestic drama. So the sofa attacks my neck and back and the boxes and books gang up against me. And the real estate agent is calling and he wants me to move my stuff so that he can show the place. And I too want the stuff to move but it isn't. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sigh! What have I done so wrong in my life to deserve this? </div>SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9291546.post-79488432868416143382009-05-25T20:41:00.004+03:002009-05-25T21:44:59.943+03:00Tick Tock. Your time is up!tick tock <div>tick tock </div><div>tick tock </div><div><br /></div><div>Someone, anyone, please tell that demented clock that time has no essence to me, at least not now. Not today, not over the previous four years, and specifically all the years before that. Nor will it mean anything to me tomorrow, or, for that matter, yesterday. </div><div><br /></div><div>It is just time. A clock with nothing better to do than tick. Tick all you want, for we live in two different worlds. You calculate yours, while I .. I don't know what to say now .. while I do whatever I want with mine, I suppose. I set my own rules and deadlines, I work at whatever pace I want and should I decide to sit doing nothing watching you waste your minutes and hours away, there is no one and nothing to stop me. Does this make any sense? </div><div><br /></div><div>I know. I am all over the place and time zones. But: Time. Means. Nothing. It is just a waste. Time waiting to be spent. It's morning, then afternoon, then night, then morning again. Talk about boredom and not having anything better to do. Like those people with children. They sleep to wake up to eat to puke to shit to be washed to sleep again to wake up to eat and throw up and shit some more, then get washed to sleep again ... you get the picture right? Oh the monotony! I am already yawning. </div><div><br /></div><div>I really seriously did yawn and stretch and am thinking of just curling on the sofa for the rest of the day and possibly staying there until the weekend. Or I could continue sitting in this comatose position, typing with one or sometimes two fingers, just like I have been doing for the good part of four years (The rest of the time I was doing other things, like curling on the sofa, watching TV, playing games on the computer, Xbox and Wii, and when I am hungry or am in a creative mood, I would cook. I do have a life, in case you are wondering). </div><div><br /></div><div>When I moved here, I had grand schemes. They were just plans. None of them saw light - but that isn't the point. I was so keen to get out of the hellhole I buried myself into in Bahrain, which included cramming everything and doing all that I could sandwich in every 24 hours of every day. I thought I would relax for a few days or a few weeks - two months at most - to find my bearings and then leap into action. My plans for my time here included so many things, things I can still do if I really want to, but which I don't know how I feel about anymore. Among them were: writing a book, doing a PhD and having a baby. I also told myself that I would grab time by its horns, and not let it defeat me; that I would invest my time and make the most of it; that I would be productive and useful, enterprising and successful. </div><div><br /></div><div>And successful I was, in watching every year, month, day, hour, minute and second of that time squandered. Almost all of it. I worked to the minimum of my capacity. I sat on my own. I lied to myself and said I was taking a break after a busy life in Bahrain. My excuse was that Canada is boring and there is nothing to do here; that all my friends and family are in Bahrain, where I will be returning and as such didn't need any more friends. Almost four years, in a self-exile, with friends and family and everything meaning anything to me in Bahrain. And I alone here. I mean, I do have friends here of course - a former Bahrain couple whom I see once every few months, my landlady, whom I also see once every few months, and, of course, my husband, whom I see every day. </div><div><br /></div><div>And more successful I was in making this time pass - all 24 hours of everyday. At first it was exciting: I have the whole day to myself. For the second time in my existence, as the eldest child of seven, I am all alone in this world (I must admit that the first stint, more than 30 something years ago, lasted two years until my sister was born). Then it became depressing. Can I type that word again with a Capital D please? Depressing. Now can I type it again in ALL CAPS. Please? DEPRESSING. Then I got to grips with it. Time. And we learned to co-exist. I learned to slow down and it learned to speed up. So I have to cook dinner right? But it's 10am. And we have dinner at 7pm. So I learned to spend all the time between 10am and 6pm, thinking about what dinner should be. And then the next hour is spent preparing it. How's that for a plan? </div><div><br /></div><div>And now that I am so successful in pacing myself and know exactly how to manage my life and affairs properly and successfully, time rears it's ugly head and announces: "Your time is up!"</div><div><br /></div><div>After all my patience, after sitting on you for four years, almost, is this how you repay me? You tell me, that I have pack, even the things I have never got around to unpacking, and return to Bahrain where tick tock will take a whole new life of its own and where I cannot remain a silent depressed bystander watching you and me go to waste every single day anymore? </div><div><br /></div><div>Seriously, go get a life. And read that ethics book while you are at it. You have been unfair to me, when I have given you all the chances and time in the world. I waited for 2006 to turn to 2007 to turn to 2008 and it's now 2009 and I finally slowed down to accommodate you - and now you are asking me to speed up and pack and return to the rat race? You certainly have issues and I have a sofa waiting for me. </div><div><br /></div><div>I know I have to pack. But it's a holiday in the US today and there's always tomorrow. And if tomorrow is wasted, there is the day after. And if that too goes without me realising how it went up in smoke, there is the day after it. It is not like I am leaving today, is it? </div>SillyBahrainiGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16449468317171027604noreply@blogger.com3