The Bahrain Trip: March 10, 2005

Bahrain

Day 1: Thursday, March 10th

The air in Bahrain struck home. The moment I walked off the plane I recognized the fantastic island sent of salty air EVERYWHERE. Needless to say, I immediately felt right at home which really helped me out with the whole homesickness thing. The airport was pretty clean, too. I think Airports, for a lot of countries, are symbols of their nations, so the Gulfees, in particular, make them nice. The bathroom was top of the line, which is rare.
After a bathroom check I moved on to the Car rental. I found it easy enough, across from Seattle’s Best Coffee. The service was pretty fast and I got my car in due time. I rolled out and immediately got lost. You see, Bahrain’s airport is on an island and while I thought I was driving off it I was really driving into the island. Eventually I figured it all out and got the experience of crossing one of the TWO HUGE bridges which connect the airport island to the main island. I immediately set out for a shopping mall, my usual operation when I get to any capital city in a foreign country, so I could check to see if they had soccer jerseys or anything else I might have needed. They didn’t, but I did get to impress a store clerk with my Arabic. Apparently foreigners like me don’t walk into malls in Bahrain and ask for directions in Arabic much (one really great thing I saw, and took a picture of, was an advertisement in a movie theatre. All the posters were about 20 years old and one of them was for a movie called “2000AD” with all this futuristic imagery. It made me feel old…euuuu).
After checking out the mall I went in search of a nightclub. Bahrain is overrun with expats (foreigners living outside their home countries). The first place I checked happened to be Hard Rock Café. It turned out to only have food so I passed on it for the time being as it was a little pricey. Instead I asked the doorman where a good club was. He directed me to the hottest club in town, some Irish place. By the time I found it was midnight and the doorman had informed me the place was only open until 2am (nightlife ends early in Bahrain). I ordered a drink and struck a conversation with a Shii Lebanese guy from Saudi, or something like that. This was right after Rafik Harriri died, and although the guy was Shii, he didn’t like the Syrians much. He never really explained why; I guess he just didn’t like them.
The club itself was quite an experience. I got searched at the door for bombs and guns, alerting me to both the presence of expats (American expats) in the club and the danger that existed even in a country as small as Bahrain. Inside, the club was much like any American club, except full of really smart Foreign Service officers and businessmen. No Bahraini natives are allowed into the club. It was two stories and seemed to be the official hang out spot of all the foreigners. The place also had a separate bar/pool hall attached to it where people could “pre-game” before going dancing. All in all, the operation was about as Western as it got, except for the security and metal detectors, which were distinctly Middle Eastern.
After the club shut down I got went in search of place to park my car…so I could sleep in it…again. I tried to go the mall parking lot, but the security guards weren’t having any of that, so instead I parked in a pseudo construction area right across the street from a rather nice hotel which I didn’t want to waste money staying in. I did make use of their facilities through. They were actually pretty nice about it and they let me use the bathroom and sleep outside their hotel without incident.


Day 2: Friday, March 11th

I woke up early and after freshening up at the hotel (again) I hit the road in search of the Bahrain’s first oil well.
…..
No, I’m not joking. There’s a monument to it, and a museum. In fact the interesting thing about Bahrain is that it has already run out of oil, and yet it is still an EXTREMLY wealthy country. I was actually impressed with how honest the Bahrainis were with their history. They seem to have already come to terms with the fact that they are only rich because of oil and because of that acceptance they had no problem diversifying. In case anyone is wondering what Middle Eastern oil states can do after they run out of oil, look no further than Bahrain. They have diversified into aluminum plants and refineries, as well as a huge US naval presence which I’m sure they get huge bucks for (as a matter of fact, the one thing my travels showed me was how tight the United States and the Gulfees are. Whatever the fuss about our image in the Muslim world, they guys with the money still like us. Aren’t they people too?).
The drive to the oil well was quite fascinating. I got lost somehow, which is amazing since I could run across Bahrain in a day, but I eventually got on the right road, which meant I was driving through total empty desert. I found this to be extremely weird since Bahrain is SO small, but apparently they have plenty of room. In fact, most of the industry in Bahrain has managed to stay out of the sight of the general population. I even end up driving through an industrial wasteland where I think they were just mining rocks!
Needless to say I got lost again but at a roundabout in the middle of nowhere some random worker guy flagged me down. He asked what I was doing and I told him I was looking for the Tree of Life (yep, they got one of those too, and no it is not the nickname of the oil well). He paused for a second with a slight smile on his face, but then the smile was gone and he was all business, informing me that he had to come with me for security reasons. I really didn’t care as long as he showed me the way, which he did, but in the end it appeared I was just driving him to his buddy’s house, which happened to be near the Tree of Life.
He did at least tell me the story. In the barren wasteland that is Southern Bahrain there is one lone tree which is nice and green and absolutely no one knows where it gets its water from….isn’t that special…actually it kinda is.
After that excitement, I got back on the oil well trail. On the way there I passed another fantastic looking office belonging to the Bahrain National Gas Company. The Bahrainis really like their natural resources. Eventually I even found the source of all this joy, the Oil Museum.

It was closed.

Haha, ironic metaphor for their Oil Well as well…oh boy.

After the Well I went on a fort hunt. Now, to get to the forts I had to drive down a lot of big streets, and let me just say that the Bahrainis take their major roads seriously. These things were tree-lined and greener than any I had ever seen in Hawaii except the ones going through forests. They had roundabouts with practical parks in the middle of them. The beautification projects were fantastic. However, the forts were all closed.
No matter, though, cause I had a small adventure right around the corner. I stopped off at a nice local eatery called “Al-Najim Sandwitches” and got a bacon and egg sandwitch. After switching off the part of my brain which warns me about salmonella I dug in. It actually tasted a whole lot better than the McD’s egg McMuffin, which is no easy task. Anyway, I didn’t get sick. Guess the eggs are ok (chickens in general are OK in the Middle East).
I took a short nap after that when the heat caught up to me, and then checked out Fort Bahrain. The fort itself was closed, although it did look cool, but not nearly as cool as the little town next to it, of which I only have one picture. The town was really just one street, but every building on it was colorfully painted with happy scenes and palm trees and other soothing symbols. It was the most hippie town I have ever seen, and in the last place I would ever expect to have seen it.
After finishing with the fort and the hippie town and finally embarked on the mother of all hunts – The Jet Ski. I found them at another foreigners-only club, except this one seemed even more exclusive. It may have been more of a military and rich people only place, although that basically means foreigners. Anyway, an American passport and a $1 parking fee later and I was in the money. I found the little Jet Ski booth and had a blast for 30 minutes, darting around the bay, dodging in between fishing boats (which I’m sure they loved) and soaring off the wakes of ships as they came out of the Yacht Club’s harbor. It was pure heaven.
After disembarking I got to talking with the guys who worked at the store. They spoke perfectly good English and not very much Arabic, but foreigners really didn’t have to (probably why that store clerks was so surprised). They had been living in Bahrain for months, one them for years, and Arabic had never been required. It also turned out that one of them is going to be in Hawaii of all places this summer teaching windsurfing and I might actually meet up with him when I get there.
The other great thing that happened is that both the guys (they turned out to be cousins from Sri Lanka) gave me their cell phone numbers and offered me a place to stay. Actually one of them offered the other guy’s place, which I ended up not being able to use, but they fact that they gave me an emergency contact after 15 minutes gave me a lot of hope for humanity. I thought maybe it was just a foreigner thing, but as I found later that night even the locals were generous.
The thing I found most fascinating about the club was the three IDF soldiers I saw walk in. Now, they might have been Americans, but judging by the huge Star of David tattooed on one of the guy’s backs I figured they were Israelis. Either way, they definitely were not worried about boasting their Jewish heritage, even in the Gulf, although it might have been that they felt safe enough at the club, which also has interesting connotations. Or it might also have been that they were huge and could probably take on the entire Bahraini army, if there is one, which I never saw any signs of (lots of Americans though). Controversially, the guy’s Star of David reminded me of the Swastika on Edward Norton’s chest in “American History X.” Since the Israelis are not Nazis, I assume this guy was an exception (he may even have been a nice guy). But that kind of imagery is probably not what the Jewish people want to be sporting in the Middle East.
After the Jet Skis I went next door to the Bahrain national museum, which I can honestly say was pretty cool. Because Bahrain is so small and also uniquely isolated from the peninsula they take a lot of pride in their distinct heritage (they are also run by a monarchy determined to give Bahrain a history at all, but you chose your own propaganda). It described the family life of the Arabs in Bahrain, Bahrain’s importance as a trade route, various wars that took place upon it, its natural wildlife and its man-made wonders, such as the really big mounds of dirt in one of the cities which the plaque compares to the Pyramids of Egypt. I never ended up seeing the big mounds in person, but speaking from experience, I truly doubt they are on par with the pyramids (although I probably would have enjoyed the big mounds of dirt too).
After the museum I went to Hard Rock Café for some good food and study time. After chomping down a triple-decker cake and some flashcards, I filled out the service evaluation the nice lady gave me. All in all the service in Bahrain surprised me with its high standards and desire for improvement. However, all the people who worked at Hard Rock, and at the nightclub and the yacht club were foreigners, except for the security guards, who were Arabs.
I decided to end the night at the nightclub again, since I really had nothing else to do, but when I got there I decided I really had absolutely no interest in staying there very long and decided to head for the border…the Saudi border. It wasn’t difficult to find, really, because there are street signs everywhere in Bahrain pointing to Saudi Arabia. Apparently so many Saudis visit Bahrain it was worth for them to guide them back off the island (come to think of it all this nonsense about oil wells and all the nice beaches are another way Bahrain has diversified, namely, tourism).
I didn’t ended up going onto the big bridge connecting Bahrain to Saudi because I didn’t want to have to buy a new visa, or even chance it at midnight. Instead I decided to head for Al-Areen Wildlife Park & Reserve. I knew it would be closed, but I had nowhere else to sleep and it sounded like as good a place as any to park my bed. On my way there I passed the Bahrain International car racing stadium. I think NASCAR culture is beginning to export itself, because it has definitely hit Bahrain (unfortunately I missed the big race by a few weeks: $100 tickets). I also drove by a big university which I didn’t really know existed. At this point I decided, well, it is midnight on a Friday so there must be parties going on. I was of course sadly mistaken, and I found that every single door to the campus was locked. So, feeling disheartened I coasted down the street.
And then it got interesting.
I saw a bunch of guys driving a very nice dune-buggy in the desert off to the side of the road. At first I drove past them, but then I realized that when I was writing this story down for all you marvelous people, I would feel ashamed if I passed up such a perfectly good adventure. So I turned around, parked my car across the street, jumped the median and went to say hi. They had absolutely no idea how to respond to my presence. They tried to completely ignore me at first, which was new for me because in Egypt foreigners are instantly the center of attention, even though we’re everywhere. It turned out their cars were stuck in the sand and when they started trying to push them loose and hopped in to help with absolutely no prompting.
SO from their point of view, a random white dude appeared in the middle of NOWHERE from out of NOWHERE in at 2 in the morning, started speaking Arabic and pushing their cars around! I realized how ridiculous it was, but hat really just worked to my advantage because I was really the only person who knew what was going on, therefore I wasn’t uncomfortable at all. I can only imagine what they were thinking (probably that I was CIA and they were serious trouble with their dads’) They didn’t let me ride the dune-buggy, unfortunately, but they did invite me to hang out at a nearby gas station, which I of course accepted because I really had absolutely nothing else to do (remember, middle of nowhere, 2 am).
So I followed them over to the gas station after their friends arrived to pick them up. They left their cars in the desert, apparently having called someone to take care of the problem. The interesting thing about these kids was that they all wore bright white galabiyya type things, which are robes for men (like Obi-Wan Kenobi’s in Star Wars). They also drove nice cars/jeeps.
They were filthy rich.
In the beginning only one of them talked to me, but after I told them my story they began to be less afraid and more used to me. They started talking to me and asking me about Hawaii and I asked them about Bahrain. I eventually found out they were Sunnis and that the rival “gang” of kids on the other side of the gas station were Shii. The two groups did not mix, except for one kid who seemed to be a go-between. The Shii, fascinatingly, wore Western-style designer clothes and drove race cars reminiscent of the Japanese adolescences in Hawaii who go around making lots of noise in their excessively modified automobiles. The Sunnis did not like the Shii, and told me they were untrustworthy, which I’m sure was a mutual feeling between the two groups.
I want to digress here a second to discuss an interesting topic which has serious implications for domestic politics in the Middle East. Shiism has long been considered the outcast sect of Islam, and analysts always say only 10% of Muslims are Shii, the rest being Sunni. Besides being simply not true, because one must qualify what Druze and Alawii are (some claim they’re not Muslims. I don’t know what they say, but they are descended from Muslim splinter groups). These statistics are probably true, but the problem is that they include every Muslim on Earth, the majority of who live outside the Middle East, in places like North Africa, Pakistan, India, Malaysia and Indonesia, the most populous Muslim country on Earth. All these people are considered Sunni or otherwise don’t really care. In the Middle East, however (Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, Turkey, Iran, the Gulf, Yemen, Saudi, Israel) the people do care very much which sect they are from. And the sect people are increasingly from is Shii. For example, Lebanon used to be majority Christian. Now it has near a near majority Shii alone. Iraq has a Shii majority, as does Iran. Saudi has a significant Shii population in the east and almost all the Gulf countries have large Shii populations, even though the rulers are all Sunni. If 10% of Muslims are Shii and there are 1 billion Muslims in the world, and the Middle East has a population of around 200 million, 200/1000=20%. By rough estimation (I emphasize rough) Shiis make-up 50% of the Middle East outlined above. This may be the reason why none of the Sunni dominated governments have wanted to do a proper census and why many of Sunnis of the Middle East, even those not in the ruling class, worry about democracy coming to the Middle East. Democracy in the Middle East could lead to the rise of Shiism as the new ruling class in the Middle East. Given how long these people have been oppressed, probably only a lot more Ayatollah Sistanis would be able to hold them at bay.
So the Shii were aspiring socialites and the Sunnis were religious and Bedouin. Besides not talking to each other and showing off their cars I didn’t see any hostility between the groups and when I asked them about gangs and fighting, they didn’t really get my meaning. However, there was a sense of impending doom. The Sunni wouldn’t admit it, but I think they knew there are a lot of Shii out there.
After meeting one of my new buddies’ crazy old friends who demanded that I speak English and not Arabic and muttered ‘Spy’ under his breath, the party started to break up. When they heard I was sleeping in the back of my car, however, they would have none of it. The guy who first invited me along extended me a second kindness of a bed at the ranch his family keeps in the middle of nowhere in southern Bahrain. Because he seemed a little hesitant in his offer, I figured he was more worried about me stealing his stuff, so I didn’t have to worry about him offing me in the desert. I followed him and his friend to their place and they woke up a servant-guy who was sleeping in the small hut on the ranch. I felt kinda bad for the guy, but after an initial grumpiness he seemed to get over it, especially with his kid-boss looking over his shoulder. I locked my car, put my passport in my pocket and conked out.
Day 3: Saturday, March 12th

I woke up early to the sound of two men giggling. I opened my eyes and saw the servent-dude and another guy I assume was his friend pointing at me and smiling. I was kinda worried for a second, not having any idea what they had done to me or were planning on doing to me, but they eventually just left and I went back to sleep for a few hours. I imagine I was just funny looking and the new guy just wanted to have a look at the foreigner. I woke up a few hours later and there was not a soul to be seen. It was kind of eerie, so I took some quick pictures and disappeared. The only traces I left were memories.
Back on the road again, I headed for the wildlife park, but first I had to make a pit stop at McDonald’s for a clean bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth (traveler tip #1: Always know where McDonald’s is) After getting my usual 9-piece meal I sat down for a lonely meal. But as often happens, interesting people just walked in the door. After offering myself a seat at the table (I mean I asked, but who asks? And how can you refuse? ) I got to talking with these two guys, both from Hungary (where I would later visit, unbeknownst to me). They were construction guys working at the big race track and they were building the pavilion for the big crowds. They explained to me all about the race and how they get everything ready months ahead of time and how the whole crew working on it was very international, hailing from all sorts of Eastern European countries (ok, not SUPER international, but still, not bad).
After my little meeting, I finally found the park. The place was actually pretty cool, despite a lack of variety. The initial part had a bunch of neat-o animals but the only things on the Safari air-conditioned bus tour were ducks and about 17 different kinds of deer. They were actually quite proud of their wide variety of deer, since they had nothing else. All in all the animal selection was pretty poor, but they seemed happy enough and well treated. I just couldn’t get over how many deer those guys had.
By that time I really had nothing else to do. My Sunni friends had offered to take me out on one of their fishing boats that day, but it turned out they weren’t really going or had second thoughts about me. Either way, I scoured the map for more to see and I came up with Beit al-Quran – the House of the Koran. This place turned out to be really neat. It was basically a collection of Korans from all over the world, in various sizes, shapes, styles and even languages (Anne, I even found one in CHINESE). I managed to snap a bunch of pictures which I found out later was against the rules, but without flash they weren’t a problem anyway.
On my way out I got lost, which seems to be the best way to travel. The rest of the building turned out to be a school/library/research center/office and I wandered past a few classes where children were reciting the Koran. In the library I randomly picked up a book about Islam, but which was written by a Shii. Reading it was another valuable lesson in the art of propaganda and I discovered that if one simply writes things like their fact, it sounds authoritative (probably something everyone should keep in mind while reading about my travels). Eventually they found me and escorted me to the entrance, where the guard told me no drinks either, although I had already walked through the whole place. I donated a Dinar to the cause (admission was by donation) I bounced.
By then it was getting late and my trip was winding to a close, but I still had one mission left – Soccer Jerseys and a flag. As usual the big Bahraini malls had nothing to do with anything nationalistic. The stores were all run by non-native East Asian immigrants who only wanted to sell Soccer jerseys from the teams which won, like the European ones. 2 super malls later and I got directed to a local souk (market) where I was guaranteed to find a jersey. After some hard bargaining I ended up buying the Jerseys and the flag from the same guy. He gave me a discount on the condition that I tell my friends…so I’m telling you. Go buy flags and soccer jerseys from the guy in the souk. He’s a nice guy.
I also found a real prize in the market: old Iraqi money with Saddam’s picture on it. I bought 10 of them to give out as presents, so first come first serve. I got the price quote from some random American guy and his wife who had done the exact same thing. They also offered me a phone number, but it didn’t work out in the end…kind of a pattern, really…
Finally I had accomplished all my goals and decided to take it easy for the rest of the day. After finding a hotel to send my postcards from I went to eat at some pub, while studying Arabic, and I saw a bunch more Americans watching a song and dance routine given by some cute Japanese girls in skirts. In was all pretty hilarious. The funniest thing was that I didn’t even talk to the expats, because I was not a novelty in their circles and they probably wouldn’t have been all that interested in meeting me. The Arabs were and the Sri Lankan guys I might were a lot nicer, but then again, I didn’t really try to talk to the Americans.
At night I watched some pool and then checked out the night club for a bit, and then went to find a place to sleep. I tried asking the hotel guys for a room (the club was attached to a hotel) but the cheapest they went was $40 a night for absolutely nothing. My car seemed a much better beat. However, I managed to pull a coup. One of the hotel working invited me to sit for a chat, which I did, but I don’t really remember the conversation because as I got more and more comfortable in the big cushy lobby chair I just fell asleep! The desk guy felt so bad for me he told the next shift and his manager to just let me be. SO in the end I got a pretty sweet chair to sleep in for the night.

Day 4: Sunday, March 13th

I woke up in the chair and then went and slept some more in my car. I hadn’t really planned on sleeping in the chair so when I woke up the next day I was a little shocked, but grateful enough to get out of the hotel and go sleep in my own bed/car. I woke up a few hours later and washed up and then headed for the airport. I ended up having a little extra time, so I went to check out for Arad, which protects the passage between the airport island and the main island. There were only two people operating the whole place, one of whom was a security guard who tried to act like he wasn’t following me around. Once I had seen the whole place I returned my car and got on my plane.
Usually that is the end of the trip, but this time I got a seat next to a fascinating British dude who was working for an airline out of Singapore or Hong Kong or something and was trying to expand its business in the Middle East. He was actually working in Iran and was hopping through Bahrain on his way to a big meeting in Cairo. He was getting paid pretty well, I discovered, and he was only like 24 or 25, which I thought was incredible since at the pace I’m going I won’t be done with school until about 24, 25, and he already had a job for about a year. He generously offered me a place on the company shuttle from the airport to Cairo, which was fantastic. I actually ended up running into my friend Ali who was also meeting someone at the airport, so apparently God was all about me getting a ride back.
Rich’s boss (Rich being the British guy) turned out to be a native Iranian who moved to Bahrain when the Shah fell because he didn’t like the new government. He actually thought the shah was better, which was the first time I had heard that one. He also gave me some mint Iranian money, which was awesome. Finally they dropped me off at their hotel, gave me their cards and we wished each other farewell.
In conclusion, Bahrain was the most fascinating trip as far as international politics was concerned. I experienced first hand the American military and political presence in the Gulf. I got to see an interesting side of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and see how well Bahrain treats its foreign visitors, upon whom the entire economy (and probably the regime) depends. I also go to see the beginnings of a Shii rise and an Iranian who like the Shah. A very interesting trip indeed.