Author: Robin Chartier

Stylin’ as always, excited for the ride to the airport. 

Our cab driver had an American flag air freshener hanging from his rearview mirror and spent the drive talking to Josh (in Arabic) about how he liked George Bush and Bush’s mission to get rid of terrorists. (I was more than a little proud of the fact that I could decipher some of what he was saying, though “George Boosh!” was hard to miss.)

Breakfast at the airport. Not for me — I generally don’t eat when I fly. A decaf cappuccino and half of a yellow pill are enough for me. (I was actually relaxed about going on this trip, but when something works, I don’t like to deviate from the routine.) 

Two different cultures, two different languages, one love of electronics.

(It was the little boy’s tablet, but he kept wanting Caleb to play with him.) 

Then I got to these pictures. And I remembered. 

While waiting to board our plane there were over a hundred women like these all around us. From our experience in the region, I know that these women are on their way to various countries to work as housemaids, nannies, and other household help. They are all leaving home to try to provide for the families they’ve left behind. Some have even paid enormous sums of money to “agents” to get visas to work in these countries. Some of these women will be kept under lock and key, some will end up in an indentured servant type of situation where they never earn enough to repay the costs of their travel/visa and living expenses, and the ones in “good” situations will work only 6 1/2 days per week (but those work days will be from the time they wake up until the time they go to sleep). 

I watched a man walking around checking tickets and directing certain ones to this line that was getting ready to board. 

Now how am I supposed to get on a plane and enjoy my vacation? A friend reminded me that God loves these women even more than I do and that I’m not responsible for saving them. I left our housemaid with plenty of money, access to our entire house, and a week with nothing to do but make sure the dog was fed and happy. That is the best I can do. 

(Atlantis lobby with the incredible glass sculpture)

I didn’t blog at all because I was too busy watching this little fish

grow fins and gills before our eyes

Hopefully these few photos will tide you over until I can sort through the rest of them.

We’re back in Bahrain now. Bags unpacked, laundry done (mostly thanks to Josie), and back to school/work. Now the final push to the end of the school year. Less than a month before summer break and our (intended) trip to the US! 

I can’t remember if I mentioned this or not, but during The Break, the boys finished up their seasons of baseball and soccer and started Tae Kwon Do (TKD). It’s like we’ve come full circle from 2 years ago in Egypt, when the boys were getting ready to take their first TKD belt test, but that night the 6pm curfew was implemented and a few days later we were gone. 

A few weeks ago the boys all tested for their orange belts (and passed as you can see from the photos below). A new year, new country, a few sizes bigger and a new instructor, but they are back where they left off. 

Yesterday they were a bit early for class so their instructor took some time to show them how to use a bo staff. All I could think of was Napoleon Dynamite: “I’m pretty good with a bo staff.”

I’m just waiting for them to come home and take apart my mops and brooms and make their own.

From school they go to swim team practice (Carter and Caleb) and track practice (Calvin) and then walk over to base for TKD. Which means that when it’s over, they’re starving. 

Good thing the bowling alley (class is held in the gym next door) has a snack bar. 

In addition to their history as pearl divers, Bahrainis also have a tradition of being basket weavers. This skill is now carried on by only a few men and women from the older generation, though the government is trying to encourage others to learn the skill so it doesn’t become a lost art.

Today our friends took us to a small shop back in one of the Shia villages to go basket shopping.

They are all handmade — mostly made out of dried palm fronds. We got the large and small green and orange “trays,” I got the multi colored covered basket on the bottom right (to hold my yarn) and Caleb wanted the plain open basket at the top center because it would be “perfect to hold my LEGOs.” 

The large tray was $13, the small one was $6.50, the LEGO basket was also $6.50 and my very large covered basket was $25. Considering the hours it took to make each one, they were all bargains. 

The dead bird outside the shop was just as interesting to these two as anything inside the shop.

Camille claimed a very small Easter-style basket that was just her size

How about this one?

These gently sloped, heavy bottomed baskets would make great fruit bowls. Maybe next time. 

Camille’s best friend, making himself at home in the middle of the shop

All different shapes and sizes, all handmade, and all unique. The round one with the burgundy circle hanging on the back wall is traditionally used to serve food. It is laid on the floor and the platters and trays of food are spread out on it and everyone gathers around to eat. 

Josh, Camille and I went to a party the other night. It was close enough to our house that we left the boys at home and walked over (it was a promotion party which usually means lots of alcohol and not always kid-friendly). The party was certainly Camille friendly since there was tons and tons and tons of food. 

She was enthralled by this enormous bowl of lamb chops that had been marinated and were waiting to go on the grill. I don’t know what sort of magic they used on them because I don’t like lamb (it tastes like a farm smells), but this lamb tasted just like a great steak. We knew it would be good because the chefs/bartender from our favorite Mexican restaurant (ironically they are Filipino) did all the food. Habanero hot salsa, guacamole, ceviche, lamb chops and more.  

Also of interest, the huge whole fish in the top left of the photo. Camille wanted to pet it before it went on the grill. 

She totally got into the lamb chops and kept asking for more.

I cut her off after she polished of 6 of them. No, that is not a typo. SIX

I relented and let her have one more before we took her home and put her to bed.

She knows how to party.