In Oman we used to go camping all the time. We’d throw tents and sleeping bags on top of the car, grab a few scrap pallets of wood and find a place on the beach to spend the weekend. When we moved to Bahrain we heard that people camped here too, but scoffed when we found out that their version of “camping” was in the middle of the oil fields. Every winter people register to camp, then they pick a spot down south near the oil wells and pipes and they set up temporary homes for the season.
I don’t know if people actually live there full time or if it’s mostly a weekend activity, but it’s definitely not normal tent camping like we think of in the US. There are tents involved, but not the kind from REI. These are Bedouin style tents that house living room furniture, some have temporary bathroom facilities and running water, and lines of people in cars cruise up and down the roads in the area all weekend the way teens used to cruise popular streets on a Friday night, looking for fun.
We have never gone out “camping” here before, because you either have to set up your own site in the middle of the dirt (yuck) or know someone who has one of the very nice camps so you have access to some of the niceties like generator power and a flush toilet, or you pay a company to host you for the evening so you get the Bahraini camping experience.
During our last carpet shopping trip Josh was asking one of the sons what camping is actually like out there and the son was sharing how he went as the guest of a government VIP and had to eat until 3 in the morning when he was so full he felt sick (but the man kept offering food, so he had to keep eating. It’s how it’s done.) Then he mentioned that his wife’s cousin had a connection with a very nice camp and they were going to go out one evening soon and we could come as their guests if we wanted to. Yes, we did!
A few days later our friend called Josh and said it was all set up for January 3rd. Of course, Josh was leaving for India on January 2nd. Oh well. I told him I’d take lots of pictures. I really would have preferred him to go with us because I feel a bit naked in this culture when he isn’t around to act as my interpreter, cultural advisor, and male spokesperson, but I knew we were were in good hands.
We met around 7pm and followed him on the 40 minute drive out to the middle of the desert. There are paved roads the entire way so it’s kind of like camping on the side of the highway. We pulled off the road and under an archway of little white lights. This camp was one of the nice ones.
There was a large open space in the middle. Large enough for a few of the kids (not my kids, local kids) to do laps on a 4 wheeler. There were also 3 very large tents like the one behind Camille. They offered us tea and Arabic sweets to start the evening. Camille drank at least 5 glasses of tea throughout the night and it would have been more if she hadn’t been so busy playing. (It’s called Karak — a sweetened black tea with milk and cardamom.)
The open sided tent with carpets on the ground. (Camille with another glass of tea)
The older men sat on the Bahraini benches that lined the edge of the tent. We were early since it was still before 8pm. Many more people came later. Our friend introduced us to the host, who was a relative of his wife. It was a big party of extended family and friends and it was an honor to be included.
In the center of the camp was a hole where they started a big bonfire. There were also several Bahraini benches set up around the edge of the fire. That’s where I camped out. Behind the fire is a soccer “field” (two goals set up in the dirt), a volleyball court, and a small playground. It was kid paradise.
For a first course we were given bowls of beans, both garbanzo (chickpeas) and blackeyed peas. They were warm and a bit smokey, with the right amount of acidity.
They were good, but my heart was lost to the taamia — the Egyptian style falafels. (They are made with fava beans instead of chickpeas). Mmm, I love them. Inside the kitchen area they had chicken on a vertical spit for shwarma, marinated beef strips on a grill, and they were baking fresh flatbread the traditional way. The oven looks like a huge metal bowl and the raw dough is slapped on the vertical sides; when it is cooked through it begins to release, but is caught and slapped on my plate, ready to eat. Yum, no paleo here.
Our friends who were also invited to attend tonight. We have a bunch of kids!
A group arrived in traditional dress, with traditional instruments to sing and dance. I would have thought it was the kind of thing that they did only for tourists, but I guess it happens when the locals get together too.
watching the performers next to our friend from the carpet shop
If I were them, I would get tired of going round and round singing the same (??) thing over and over, but they had endurance!
There was a third tent that I peeked inside, but didn’t take any photos. In between watching the dancers and playing soccer, the kids spent plenty of time in the “game tent” playing table tennis, pool and watching whatever was playing on the gigantic TV. Definitely not roughing it.
practicing writing their names in Arabic in the sand
More food. Endless food. Taamia for Calvin and shwarma for Caleb.
A nearby camp set off fireworks. She loved them.
The ladies in our camp lit a few of the lanterns that float into the air using heat from the burning flame. They got a few to fly, but a few others burst into flames.
Two of the lanterns in flight!
Sweaty and worn out from running around on the soccer field. Time to head home.
joining the long caravan of cars home — the lights are from other camps along the side of the road
Crashing in bed after midnight. The most comfortable way to camp!
