Rejoice in the Death of the Boogeyman?

Anyone that has spent any amount of time reading this blog, reading my words, will know that my father's favorite past time was to reign terror on those he was meant to protect. I have forgotten the number of beatings I sustained at his hand, the number of times I was dragged from my bed at 2 a.m. to be beaten and then clean an already clean house. I have forgotten how many times I stood there quaking in my shoes as he walked down the hallway with the buckle on his belt jangling in anticipation of making contact with some part of my body yet again. I forget how many times he forced me to stand in the corner with my sodden underwear pulled down over my head because I had dared wet the bed yet again. I have forgotten how many times he drew blood from my body, created bruises to bloom prettily on my skin, or in someway damaged the flesh and bone that made up the person that was me. I have forgotten how many times my bedroom door opened in the night...

What I have not forgotten is how he made me feel.

The day my mother called me in Bahrain and told me he had died still echoes in my mind. The words speeding across the phoneline, across the planet and into my ear, words I had waited so fucking long to hear, words I whispered to myself as I laid awake at night tembling in my bed while listening closely for stealthy footsteps to come calling....words that were yearned for but never heard...words that I thought would make me rejoice in their anticipated glory.

I did not rejoice when I heard those words...I cried.

My Boogeyman was dead. Dead. DEAD!!! How could he be dead? Things like him did not die...they skulked away into the darkness to terrorize another day. Why do we have Friday the 13th part 52 if not for the fact that Jason can't be killed...cannot die. No matter the abuse to his body, the stabs and gun shots, the drowning and emmolation by fire...he merely stands up and brushes off the futile attempts at ending his henious life...and stalks away to find more prey.

For sure when I was young I prayed and begged for his death, or at least his absence from my life...but deep in my heart I did not truly believe he COULD die. Monsters dont die. My father could not be dead. If my father could die...well that only meant one thing....that I (me) could die as well. With my father's death I was faced with my own mortality and the tears sprang quickly to my eyes and fell with this new found revelation. If monsters could die....what chance did the rest of us have?

My mother had the audacity to believe I was shedding tears because, after all, he WAS my father. At the end of the day, paternal love won out and my tears fell for him...not despite him. Meanwhile years later she told me she did not shed one tear while she watched him die. (yes she was there at the time...another story). I despised the fact that she assumed she was stronger than me and that even in death his life meant nothing to her...but was supposed to have meant something to me?

No Mother, the tears fell because Death came calling. The Great Equalizer. I cried because in his death I saw mine. There was no room to rejoice at the passing of the Monster...and to this day I have not so much as smiled at the thought that he no longer walks this earth...because he stall walks the corridors of my mind. He still lives and breaths and terrorizes in the one place he cannot die...or that I am unable to kill him once and for all. The flesh and blood of my Boogeyman is dead but his words, actions, and terror live on for as long as my brain is a thinking living object of self abuse.

Did you hear that Bin Laden is dead? Yes. It's True. The Boogeyman to end all boogeymans has died an ignomous death after wreaking such havoc, such terror...after playing with the hearts and minds...and bodies of so many and leaving them shattered and broken...and afraid. I watched as the news unfolded and spread like wildfire through the Internet...like a snake twisting and slithering through the 140 character limit that is Twitter as people spread the news via their fingertips rather than shocked lips and wide eyes.

The Boogeyman is dead? Is it true? How can it be? The Boogeyman can't die. It must be a rumor, a lie...Bin Laden is legend, legends don't die....but wait...hold on...yes YES!! it is true. The President is speaking...people are smiling...clapping...rejoicing!!!

I watched and read as people rejoiced over the death of this man, this Boogeyman...and it saddened me and angered me so much I was surprised I took it so personally. Who was Bin Laden to me? I was not in New York when the towers came down....no person in my family was personally affected by that trajedy...but I was standing in the living room of a Bahraini family's home at the time as it unfolded on the large screen TV. The room grew quiet as we took in the sheer scale of the horror that was playing out like the latest Hollywood action film before our eyes. As tears started to fall and splash on my cheeks I heard a sound that seemed to not belong in that room...a sound that offended and assaulted my ears...and then my eyes as I turned to make sense of it. That family was cheering and clapping and whistling and grinning from ear to ear. Rejoicing at death!!! As those buildings burned and bodies plummeted I heard whoops and shouts of joy.

I could not make sense of it. Death is here. Death is walking among us. Death has come calling and you REJOICE!!! Death...the great equalizer. There is no rejoicing in death...even when it is your "enemy", your Boogeyman. Those Bahraini's rejoiced in the death of their fellow human beings...just as so many across the world rejoiced at the death of Bin Laden.

I didn't understand it then and I don't understand it now. Why the cause for celebration? If he can die, if the Great Boogeyman of our time can die after being little more than a rumor, a superb player of the Cat and Mouse game, a vex on the lives of global travelers who want nothing more than to get from point A to point B without having to disrobe or be felt up in the process....the "focus" of pointless wars and even more pointless deaths...so now he is dead. Great. What do we do now...once the cries of celebration are ended?

There is always room in this world for another such as he to spread terror..mayhem...destruction. Should we not stop the rejoicing and instead focus on what really matters. Why a man such as he was created in the first place...because even with this death...if we do not change the ways in which we run this planet...how we treat each other...how we force our ideals on each other rather than find room for tolerance...how we quickly rush to shed blood in the name of some Higher Good...rather than stop and listen to an opinion that is not like our own....and allow that person to have it and express it without feeling anger that he dares think and believe differently than me.

To rejoice in death but to remain intolerant in life is the very foundation of what men like Bin Laden sprang from. If he believed in his cause...if he believed in his mission...if he believed he was fighting a Jihad just as he claimed...then there is nobody who is rejoicing at the death of Bin Laden more than... Bin Laden himself....so to speak. He got what he wanted...what he worked for...what he killed for. Our intolerance will ensure that other men like him are created...and Boogeyfied...and "martyred " in exactly the same fashion....but the question is...how many more people will have to die before that point is reached? How many more Bin Ladens must we suffer through before we realize WE are the creators of our own Boogeymen?

As children we have no choice, no power, no where to turn when our Boogeymen place a hand on our bedroom door knobs and enter our lives...we must stand mute and powerless as our childhoods are stolen...ripped away while we yearn for a peaceful nights sleep. As children we do not create our own Boogeymen for they are quite happy to create themselves and terrorize without invitation. As adults the power to create men such as Bin Laden is the burden we share...each side of this global clash of cultures are people molding and shaping and giving life to the Boogeymen such as Bin Laden...and now that he is gone...the next one in line. We have that power...and oh how we love to use it.

Bin Laden is dead...so what...there are more like him...thanks to the human desire to focus on what makes us different than what makes us similar..so far...for many..death is our only commonality. What a shame.

Egyptian Revolution 2011- The Most Dramatic Footage From the 18-day Revo...

I dare you to watch this and not cry or be horrified...and then...awestruck by the tenacity and determination of the Egyptian people.

I have had few heroes in my world...now I have a nation of them. Mabruk Egypt!!

Pick a side already!!!

I make it a habit to seek out and comment on Arab/Muslim/Islamic style blogs or posts simply because that is one of my main interests and it also annoys me when I see obviously false statements being made and touted as either part of Islam...or not etc. Obvious to me anyhow. LOL

Funny enough Ive gotten too many to count emails and comments asking me "am I Muslim"...or better yet..."do I still consider myself one" for those that know my history.

Here's my take on that whole question...of which I will not give a direct answer because I find it irrelevant to my point.

With Muslims you cannot win the comment game for the most part.

Why???? Good question. Here's my answer.

1. If I am a Muslim then my answer has authority over any nonMuslim that may have commented and claimed something as well. Even if I'm blatantly wrong.

2. If I'm not a Muslim then my comment is not accepted when it concerns something about Islam, the prophet, scholars, imams, women etc. You are not Muslim, you know nothing and have no right to comment.

3. If I am Muslim but make a comment that is not commonly held or doesn't make another Muslim happy...then Ive either been brainwashed by the evil west or I'm not a "real" Muslim and my comments and thoughts don't count.

4. And lastly, if I use to be a Muslim but now I'm not. I should be killed...and thus my comments don't count cause I should already be dead anyhow. *sigh*

SO, for those sending me emails and comments asking me whether I am a Muslim or do I still consider myself one...my answer would be. Its none of your business and shouldn't be used to decide whether or not my comments merit authority or consideration as being right or even possibly right. I can be Muslim and disagree with you. I can be a non Muslim and still be right. I can leave Islam and still have insights to make about it or shed light on it etc. I can...and I do.

Final thoughts...

The prophet was told one day that a man was good because he could be seen going up and down in the mosque (performing his prayers)...the prophet said...don't judge a man by what he does but by who he spends his time with. (paraphrasing)

Another time, some information came to him that the sahaba were not happy with because the information came from someone they didn't regard in a good light. The prophet told them, do not judge WHO is saying it (passing on the information) but ONLY in what they are saying (the message). (paraphrasing).

Whether you, I or anyone is a Muslim, nonMuslim, kafir or atheist..that right there is some sound advice.

Cheers

Ramadan Intrigues

To all friends and family.

Give Me A Family ...Please?

http://www.gulf-daily-news.com/NewsDetails.aspx?storyid=256430

When you live in the Muslim/Arab world you have to get use to ONE fact straight away...even if your NOT Muslim OR Arab...unmarried sex is not ok.


Hold on, let me put that another way...getting caught having unmarried sex is not ok.


Wait...wait...let me try one more time. Getting caught having unmarried sex is NOT ok if you are female...especially if the consequences turn out that you get pregnant. God forbid a female gets pregnant over here without the sanctity of a marriage contract to make her baby all hilal and legal. All though I havent personally checked...I heard that, according to the law in Bahrain, it is in fact against the law to BE pregnant and not be married.


Sooooo...lets think about this for a minute. Men are given a certain amount of "permission" to have sex (since they are not held accountable then that is granting them permission in my books)...but when it comes to suffering the consequences of sex...women are the ONLY ones that ARE held accountable....and boy do they (we) suffer.


Lately, this past 2 years or so, there seems to be more abandoned baby news reports in the paper. I cant remember hearing about babies being abandoned in Bahrain when I first came here...but then again news reporting was a whole different ballgame back then. NOTHING bad ever happened. Lived in a right utopia we did. Miss those days....*sigh*.


Anyhow, the latest was this little baby boy in that news report. Officials havent determined his nationality yet...but havent hesitated (in follow up news reports) to shove all the blame onto the mother that abandoned this baby. As well as some comments by readers and by a leading figure here in Bahrain that supposedly helps women overcome difficulties. She was advised to open a shelter or place for unwed pregnant women to come to for help....and she flatly refused...declared that opening a shelter basically condoned unmarried sex and we as Muslims were not in the business of condoning unmarried sex...not to mention SHAME on those women who got involved in such things. Rather than try and have sympathy for these women...who might have been raped by a family member or stranger...or Hell...in the cases of housemaids etc...by their owners...ahem!...I mean employers. Not every pregnant woman on this planet got that way simply because she couldnt keep her legs closed.


She did not mention men in her article...did not mention educating Muslim men about having premarital sex...unprotected sex...or about STANDING by the woman they slept with when it turns out their night of passion (or moment of passion) resulted in life. Nope...all on the female. Females should guard their vaginas against the marauding hordes of penises that assault them from every direction and save themselves for just the ONE penis that is allowed entry...despite the fact that that ONE penis just might have entered numerous unguarded vaginas prior to hers...anyways...all on her.

I might also add that if a Bahraini girl finds herself pregnant (God help her) then not ONLY will she have to deal with her family (one can only hope she hasnt got "honor killing" believers in her family) she also has to GIVE UP her baby...no matter how she feels about it. There are NO unwed Bahraini mothers of newborn babies out there...just not a done or accepted thing. Her baby will be forcibly taken and placed in an orphanage whether she wanted it or not. Society will NOT allow her to keep that bastard baby and raise it like its NORMAL or something...nope...into the orphanage you go. You could have had at least ONE parent raise you that loved you and wanted you....but noooooo...society says bastards belong in orphanages...and then punish the mother for bringing one into the world...ALL BY HERSELF no doubt...cause we know the guy, the father....will NEVER be held accountable. On the off chance he makes the gallant choice to marry her...you can bet he will remind her all their married life how EASY she was prior to marriage...yeah...it happens...Ive seen and heard it...*sigh*.

Now,I digressed from the point I was making...the reason for this post... it turns out there have been quite a few expats here in Bahrain that came forward wanting to adopt this baby boy. They are willing to open their hearts and their homes to him...not knowing a thing about him....but thats the joy that babies bring into your lives...you love them...even when they are not yours. Spend a little time with a baby and you know what I mean. Not everyone wants to take a baby home that was abandoned, thats for sure, but some do...so why not let them?


Turns out the Bahrain govt is REFUSING to allow an expat to adopt this baby boy....doesnt allow expats to adopt ANY babies here in the Kingdom....and why is that? Shouldnt we be happy to see a baby...an abandoned baby at that...go to a loving home where it will have parents and possibly siblings and a life of love and companionship? Shouldnt we be happy to know this baby wont grow up in an orphanage alone and forgotten...nobody to call Mom or Dad...nobody to call their own? Shouldnt we want a baby to be loved by something more than the nurses that will change it and feed it and the orphanage workers that will make sure it has what is required for growth etc...but do nothing to make him feel loved?


Its not explicitly stated as such but of course the reason babies are not allowed to be adopted by expats is simply because the Muslim govt of Bahrain fears that baby might NOT be raised Muslim! Oh horrors!!! Better a baby is raised by employees in an orphanage then loving parents who might be, argh Christians...or even worse....ATHEISTS!!! *sigh*


As Muslims dont we believe that God leads people to Islam...how many converts are out there in the Islamic world today...whose parents WERE NOT Muslims...whose parents might very well have been completely against the idea of Islam and their child converting to Muslim...but that child still did...why? because its all in Gods hands...not ours.


For the govt of Bahrain to abandon this baby once again and force it to lead an unloved life in an orphanage simply to ensure it grows up Muslim is such a barbaric act against this baby....and not very Muslim like behavior at all.


It means they do not trust the Will of God...trust that if God has determined this baby should be Muslim...then it will be so...despite in which household it grows up in. Whose to say just because it grows up in a Muslim orphanage that it will turn out to be Muslim..if I grew up in such a situation and came to learn that people wanted to adopt me as a baby...wanted to love me and call me their child...but the govt of my country refused me a family...abandoned me to a life of loneliness and pain....and told me it was because MY (their) religion told them to do so...wouldnt I be somewhat antagonized by that fact...wouldnt I be somewhat rebellious towards that religion that required I grow up alone and without parents simply because Muslims themselves DO NOT adopt babies...because thats against Islam too...ironic isnt it?


The govt wont allow expats to adopt this little baby for fears it wont grow up Muslim....but Muslims wont adopt it because Muslims arent allowed to according to hadith etc...Muslims will view this innocent little baby as a bastard all his life....and will call him a bastard in general conversation as if its a title he acquired through a course of study at university...oh this is Bader...he works at Bapco...hes a bastard....believe me...Ive heard similar.


So a potential family would raise this baby to be a son...much loved and cared for...giving him their family name and all that that name entitles him too. Bahraini Muslims will call him bastard and refuse to allow their daughters to marry him because he has no standing, no family name...no lineage....but thats better for him then being raised something other than Muslim?

Now I realize that we should never encourage wanton sex, sex just for the sake of sex and all that...but we have to be grownups about this and understand that sometimes sex happens. With or without the consent of the female involved...it happens...and once sex happens there are numerous consequences that can occur..one of them being a pregnancy. Babies do not ask to be created...do not come into this world worrying about if their parents (and yes there are always 2 parents despite what many Muslims prefer to believe) were legally married and if their conception was wanted and anticipated...but here they are none the less and we should welcome them with open arms once they are here. A baby is NOT to be blamed for its existence and punished by calling it bastard and throwing it into an orphanage and enforced to lead a lonely life simply because that would be easier for US.

I dont get it...and apparently the Muslims Im surrounded by dont either...for the most part...again...*sigh*.

Shame on us...and may God forgive us our barbarity.

*I dont wish to make any assumptions as to why a woman would abandon her baby as Ive never been in that position to even consider it...but knowing this culture and what can happen to her...I can at least say I understand why she would be moved to make such a drastic choice. It cant be easy for her (ok for some women it might be easy...who knows) ...at any rate it was NOT the focus of my post.

Step Back....Im on a Rant!!!

Yesterday I was standing talking with my friend when some ladies came up to her and offered her their salams and chatted for about 5 minutes before departing. During that 5 minutes they did not acknowledge me standing there...barely threw a glance in my direction. Its not the first time this has happened to me...read on.

You know, dear readers, in my 23 plus years living here in the gulf Ive witnessed and been effected by many an Arab/Muslim tradition/culture/Islamic experience that has left me either happy, unmoved, or totally pissed off and wanting to vent like crazy. Ive been in arguments, debates, lost friends, gained new ones, learned much and wish to learn more...all in the quest to gain more knowledge about these people and their culture...and this religion. (not always two distinct entities mind you).

This particular post is just going to touch on one area in which an issue has been festering much too long. Ive tolerated this for 23 years and I dare say Ive damn near had it. Basic manners people...thats all it takes...basic manners.

Manners are taught to us from the time we are old enough to learn to say please and thank you. Manners are instilled in us so that we can learn to be sociable creatures that can get along in this jungle we call civilization. Most cultures out there, Im assuming, take great stock in manners...we pride ourselves in presenting a well mannered persona to those we know...and even those we dont know but may come into contact with for just a few minutes. Those few minutes can make the difference between leaving that "stranger" with good thoughts about you, your culture, your religion, your parents, your character....whatever...people pretty much make a snap judgement about you in just a few seconds/minutes of being in your presence...so make it count (if it matters to you).

My rant right now is about saying hello...or in this instance...saying salam or salam aleikum when you are faced with another person. We are taught at a very young age that when you approach someone to engage in conversation...or even just passing but want to acknowledge them...you call out "hello" or "salam aleikum". Muslim/Arabs are particularly sensitive about this issue...Greeting family, friends and strangers alike with proper salams is something you learn from the cradle. If you leave the house for an hour and come back...salams are given. If your walking from your house to the car and you see your neighbor, salams are called out. If your standing in the store aisle waiting your turn to check out and you see someone you know...salams are shared...even if the person in front of you is a stranger and happens to look at you, possibly to get your attention that the cart needs moving ...whatever, a quick salam is given and then the problem stated. If you enter a room full of people and neglect to say salam...or in some cases...go from one person to another extending personal salams to each one...you might be considered rude...and it will be remembered.

In other words...proper greetings are given a lot of seriousness and thought in this country/culture/religion. Hadith from the Prophet mention time and again to return salams with similar or even better ones...not to mention just minding our manners and showing respect etc. The Quran is full of information on how to act with proper manners etc...its not like Muslims dont know...do they?

So I seriously dont understand my fellow Muslim sisters (Im speaking directly to sisters here as I dont generally have a problem with men in this regard)...why is it you find it so hard to not only acknowledge my presence when Im standing right in front of you...but even if you do SEE me you quite often dont bother yourselves to extend salams to me?

Now, my friend gives me every excuse in the book as to why these Muslims are being so rude to me...many of them are her friends...sometimes her family...she doesnt want them to look bad in my eyes...but this has been happening to me for 23 years...20 of those while wearing hijab...so I dont understand what excuse there is. Muslims give Muslims salams...simple. Muslims should, in the very least, convey a smile or similar welcoming greeting to a person standing right in front of them...even if the arent Muslim...its called courtesy...manners.

She will tell me that they are shy cause they dont know English...well...hmmm? Last I heard salam aleikum was Arabic not English. Im not asking them to discuss the origins of life with me...just a simple salam to acknowledge they actually see me. I might even accept a simple smile to at least break tension...but no..nothing.

Now let me remind you dear readers that this is not a one or two times thing...this has been happening for over 20 years.

Ive been sitting with women at a table and other women will come....give salams...and not even eye contact with me...I will be in a room full of women...someone enters...extends salams...goes around the room for personal greetings...but for me...nothing. Its happened so many times that I cant assume its nothing but personal...but what have I done to deserve it? I dont know.

People DONT see me!!! Im starting to wonder if Im invisible...seriously.

It happens to be one of the hardest to bear experiences I have had living here...being made to feel invisible...like I dont belong...arent worth being acknowledged.

Like I dont count in their eyes...so why should they bother to greet me.

So my friend tells me...I should be the one to greet them if they dont greet me first. I should be the one to smile and show manners since they apparently arent going to. Ok fine...I can do that...not a big deal...but its rather hard to smile and be friendly with people that just rebuffed you for whatever reason....it comes off fake...not to mention humiliates me that Im forced to make them acknowledge me when clearly they did not want too. She doesnt understand how I feel since she has never stood in my shoes.

Anyhow, Im sick of it. Had enough. I told myself the next time someone deliberately refused to SEE me...to offer salams etc while I was right there in front of them...I would make sure they knew just how rude they were being.

I was with my friend yesterday...and 3 ladies came up to her for a project of some sort. They gave kissy kissy salams Arab style...Im right there...they know Im with her...they interrupted us to greet her...so why no greeting for me too? I dont expect the familiarity of kissy kissy salams Arab style...but still...Hello? Something?

So I loudly told my friend..."I thought Muslims learned to say salam from a young age...where are these ladies manners? How rude of them they didnt give me salams."

She tried to smile and cover up my talk while apparently hoping they didnt understand English enough to know how RUDE I was being...go figure.

Anyhow, anyone out there have this problem...invisibility among Muslims (in my case Muslim women generally)? It doesnt happen ALL the time to me...but enough times to really cause me grief and deeply hurt feelings towards these so called Muslims. I cant find any acceptable excuse for not extending a basic salam to someone...ignore the language barriers...whatever...I can say hello in 7 different languages even if I cant speak anything else in that language. Its an ice breaker to greet someone with a hello...its a sociable concept to acknowledge their presence and include them in your talk when you walk up and face them with one or two others. This is shunning pure and simple...and I dont understand the reason for it.

Before anyone makes the excuse....maybe they dont know your a Muslim. My answer...whats that got to do with anything? Seriously. Dont even use that weak argument with me. Are we to believe a basic salam...or even an English hello...cannot be spoken to a nonMuslim if that is the case? Are Muslims so miserly with their salams and who they give them too? Is it too much of a language barrier to utter "hello" to someone...or even just smile at them if you dont know the language or feel shy?

Seriously people...what the hell is it? Is it me? Am I wearing a sign that says "hostile combatant" on it or something? What?

Im 40 years old. Ive spent 23 years of my life being made to feel invisible for some reason by assumingly ordinary basically good people. I dont know why.

What does it take to be SEEN over here?

The Injustice of Telling the Truth

Some of you may remember my post about my friend, Maryam alSherooqi, who is facing up to 7 years in jail for an article she wrote in one of our local papers, Al Wasat, concerning discrimination in Bahrains Civil Department. That post is here http://coolred38.blogspot.com/2009/02/does-telling-truth-require-apology.html

She has been to court several times and so far nothing has been decided...good news or bad Im not sure.

Anyhow, I couldnt help but feel even more pissed off about her whole case while I was perusing yesterdays other local paper, the Gulf Daily News. I came across a little snippet of news that is not shown on the website so I cant link to it...but anyone can check yesterdays paper if they want to read it.

It appears that while lecturing a college class on history etc last year, an American teacher "blasphemied" the Prophet by attempting to draw his likeness on the chalkboard. Apparently one of her Bahraini female students took exception to this and reported her to the proper authorities. I remember hearing about this teacher sometime last year but didnt really look into it. A lot of the time they just peter out and nothing ever comes of it.

The little snippet of news in the paper happened to mention that this teacher was found guilty and was fined and jailed for 6 months...and then will be deported.

So let me get this straight...."blasphemy" the Prophet you get 6 months in jail and a fine plus deportation. "Blasphemy" Bahrains Civil Department you get harassed by govt officials...threatened with loss of job...your salary is with held with no explanation given...your reputation is shredded by under the table sabotage and innuendo...and your faced with 7 years of jail in a case in which you have not broken any laws, called anyone a liar. or lied in general?

Now I dont believe the teacher who supposedly disrespected the Prophet deserved any punishment merely for drawing a sketch of him on a chalkboard for whatever reason...a simple word of caution by that female student...or any other student should have sufficed....but NOOOO Muslims have to be extreme when it comes to religion...but I also dont get the chasm of injustice being clearly shown here. Are we to assume the Civil Department and those who head it are on a higher footing and deserve more respect etc than the Prophet? Are we to assume that the punishment meted out to individuals who "cause trouble" to the Civil Department and those who head it should be enforced to the fullest extent of the law...but those that blasphemy the Prophet are dealt with leniently?

Should we assume that Bahrain authorities are quite happy to sit by and let a Bahraini Muslim woman, who had a solid reputation, deep respect from her community, and clearly has not broken any law what so ever.. be sent to jail merely for pointing out discrimination at the Civil Department...thus destroying her family life, her career, and her future prospects all because the head of the Civil Department didnt like something he read...but knows to be true?

One question. The MP's of Bahrain have made a mockery of Bahrains reputation as a tolerant and welcoming country. People are talking about leaving Bahrain because it no longer is the quiet oasis in the gulf it was known as before. How many more people will leave, Bahrainis included, once its made clear that jail is awaiting anyone that dares say a word against Ministry heads or anyone else that has a position of power?

I realize jail has always awaited those people who dared speak out...but at least it was hidden just a little bit better before...now theres not even a semblance of attempt at keeping this injustice a secret.

How nice for Bahrain and all its inhabitants.

I hope justice will be served for Maryam al Sherooqi...telling the truth is incumbent upon all of us...even if its against ourselves and our families...last I heard Bahrain considered itself a Muslim country....I guess that only applies in regards to the fact that we have mosques and women wear abayas and hijab. Sweet!!

Follow This Blog

As promised this is the new blog created by my 15 year old daughter(just had her bday not too long ago). Im highlighting it just so she can get some traffic in the beginning...and then hopefully it will go from there.

I told her to write what she pleased and dont feel censored just because I can read it...freedom in writing should be automatic and is very cathartic. Her first post is amazing and powerful and Im blown away all ready.

Please readers, if you have the time, visit my daughters blog. I promise you will read some awesome words...all though I cant vouch for the spelling (even with spellcheck...she is somewhat lazy in that regard...lol).

Enjoy

http://www.gothicangel94.blogspot.com/

Back in Your Birdcage Little Bird!!

Hey little girl

I know you were free

You tasted how sweet living your life can be

Without judgement and fingers pointing out your "shame"

In daring to be different and ignoring the blame

That girls are for cages and being free is for boys

That boys are meant to live and girls are just toys

Back in your cage sweet daughter of mine

The neighbors are pointing and their lips are as bitter wine

They cant believe a girl has gone "bad" in such a short time

They blame the West, the freedom...but most of all the Mother...me

How dare I let you be

Girls are not meant to be free

Back in the cage little girl

And throw away the key

Sometimes You Just Gotta Go With the Punch...p3

So all was going pretty well for about a week after the infamous "street fight"...we told everyone I had fallen down (including his mother) to avoid complications of the story etc and life got on as usual. Nobody in the house was talking to me much but that was hardly any different than usual. 

Youngest teen daughter invited me to go walk to the nearby souk with her just for a change in routine. Remember the Gulf War was on and everyone was pretty much sticking to their homes except for necessary excursions ...but after awhile life gets boring and we want to get out and have some fresh air...right? Fresh air is good.

Of course if husband had been home I wouldnt have even considered walking to the souk as that would have been a definite no no...but lucky for me he wasnt there...lucky being relative here.

So off we went feeling like we were on some kind of adventure (figured I might have had enough of adventures up to now yes?) happy to get out and see people etc. So picture this...

We came out from an alley way which lead onto the main street running through the souk...talking and laughing and not really giving much thought to whats going on around us. It just so happened that I noticed a man up the road a ways sitting on a chair smoking just looking around. No big deal right? until he looked our way. It was rather comical and I wish I could really adequately describe the range of emotions that went across his face and the clear body language he displayed in those few moments before absolute recognition set in. 

First he happened to glance at us then looked away at other distractions...then quickly looked back at us again. A classic double take if ever there was one. 

He stood up and strained to take a really good look at us...it was here that I really noticed him noticing us (or noticing me rather) and stopped in my tracks grabbing youngest teen daughter by the arm. She stopped talking and asked me what was wrong. I pointed out the guy and asked her if she knew who it was. She didnt. 

So we stood looking at him and he stood looking at us with a serious case of trying to articulate something but not knowing what exactly it was. He was nearly jumping out of his skin...putting his hands up to his eyes to block the sun and taking a few steps towards us...so of course we took a few steps back. 

At this point the distance between us was about half a block...with my poor vision I couldnt really get a good look at him but then again I didnt really know anyone in our area and certainly not the men....however it was about this time that youngest teen daughter finally recognized the man for who he was...friend of exboyfriend with the newly punched nose. 

It was at this point that he truly became animated and turned his head to look off in a direction at something we couldnt see from our vantage point. It became clear he was looking at someone as he immediately started gesturing in an exaggerated fashion with much arm swinging and body posturing that, while we couldnt really hear what he was screaming (and yes he was screaming) but left no doubt as to its meaning...."SHES OVER HERE....COME QUICKLY!!!"

He was pointing wildly in our direction and practically jumping up and down in the street. If I had been a casual passerby I would have no doubt been looking and giggling at his crazy actions. Unfortunately those crazy actions were directed at me...and it was obviously time to reconsider our walk to the souk. 

About this time he made distinct motions to come towards us...similar to what the final lap runner on a 4 man team in the Olympic 400 meters would do...you know how they act when the current runner is getting close and the new runner is anxious and antsy to get going...but must wait for the baton to be passed before sprinting for the finish line...a few erratic steps forward...a bit of a shuffle backwards...you get the point...what I wondered was this...

Who was the current runner coming with the baton? Didnt take a genius to figure that out...

Even though youngest teen daughter and I couldnt see who was, no doubt, about to come bursting out from some unseen alley or road (all though we could make a guess with a high percentage of probability)...we were clearly not capable of handling what ever bit of controversy was surely headed our way....so we did the only thing we could think of under the circumstances...we ran!!!

Now remember for anyone that assumes we were too graceful gazelles sprinting lightly around parked cars and through congested traffic...think again. We were burdened with heavy layers of clothing and abayas...not to mention we had sandals on which definitely werent meant for any sort of distance running. 

We must have been quite a sight indeed...running willy nilly down the street with our abayas and jelobias hiked up to facilitate some athletic maneuvers...such as they were. The souk was full of Asians and Bahraini men among others...not a whole lot of women about as it was still fairly early...and you dont generally see anyone running through the streets...much less women....so I imagine we made quite an impression.

We ran all the way back home not stopping or pausing to even check to see if anyone was chasing us....but we distinctly heard a man screaming somewhere behind us that he was going to "get me" and so I'd better be careful. We burst into the house out of breath, sweating buckets...and oddly enough...giggling like mad hatters. We were eventually laughing so hard I nearly passed out from lack of air and definitely felt like we had dodged a bullet of some sort. 

SIL came running to ask what all the commotion was about...she hated noise of any kind that one. Youngest teen daughter told her what happened and by the end of the gasped out story..SIL was literally burning me into ashes with her blazing angry glare...as if this was my fault (Im thinking I may have played a small part...but I definitely didnt start this gang war...lol)

So after a few moments of "deep" thought from her side she decided the best thing to do was....nothing. I was rather upset about her lack of concern considering the way things had taken a somewhat dangerous twist...those men (or at least that one) definitely had his eye on me for some reason and his actions clearly spoke of more drama on the way. I could only assume that my future safety might be something that needed worrying about...at least thats what the beat hammering out from my rabbit scared heart was telling me. She didnt think so though and laid the matter to rest. Im thinking she was still considering her oldest teen daughter and the fall out from disclosing the real reason all this drama started....ya think? no matter the reasons she had....I did not lay it to rest quite so easily. 

Early the next morning I left the house in search of a public phone as our house didnt have one and mobiles were still something to dream of. As much as I didnt want to make that phone call...I knew I really had no choice. Sometimes in order to preserve our safety (in a manner of speaking) we needed to confess our "sins". I had to call the husband. 

He seemed happy to hear from me but of course wondered why I was out of the house, alone, so early in the morning? (I might add here that my head was in a perpetual state of wind shield wiper action...looking left then right then left again...searching for anyone that looked far too interested in me). I took a deep breath and told him the whole story from beginning to end. I was of course thinking about SIL and her reaction when she found I exposed the whole sordid affair...but I had more important things to think about then her daughters already spoiled reputation. 

After the expected ass kicking for being stupid and involving myself in things that arent my business...and for putting my status in Bahrain at risk...and for adding to that stupidity by leaving the house on foot(which I wasnt allowed to do) and going to the souk (also not allowed to do). I endured the verbal slap and waited for what I really needed to hear...that he was going to do something about it....being my husband and all. 

Now remember readers that it was the Gulf War and he was restricted to the base...so Im not real sure what I expected of him...but knew it was time he was made aware of the situation and let him come up with a solution. He told me to go back home and he would work something out...so home I went. At the time I had no intention of letting SIL know that I had turned informant and things were likely about to hit the fan....no need to prod the sleeping beast and all right?

Imagine my surprise when two hours later husband came banging through the front door prepared to kick every ass in the house. SIL was NOT happy to see him knowing immediately why he was there. (to this day I have no idea how he managed to get permission to leave the base as it was in complete lock down). There was much drama and shouting and all around merriment had by all while the whole sordid story was dragged from reluctant lips. I was a silent witness for the most part until my small part in the drama became the main issue. 

After all was said and done...or just plain lied about...he determined the identity of exboyfriend and friend and left the house. It was so quiet after that you could have heard a axe hit the floor...after it had took a swipe at my head. 

About an hour later he came back...pissed more than ever and gave another enthusiastic round of ass kicking...but in the end he said he had found them and handled the situation. Now I know very well what sort of horrible temper my husband had and that he was never one to back down from a fight and usually was the one to start it...so it didnt take much deducing to figure out what he had done. A quick glance at his knuckles confirmed the fact ...they were bruised and torn. 

With a final threat against any of us to dare cause even the smallest bit of drama while he was gone..he left the house with a bang and once again the house descended into silence. 

So, long story short (as if) SIL had one more reason to hate me, oldest teen daughter had one more reason to resent me, husband had one more reason to berate and abuse me, and I was left with a broken hand and a thankless act of heroism to ponder over. 

Found out later that husband found the two men and beat them severely...there were many witnesses and nobody called the cops (defending your woman is considered obligatory and not criminal apparently). Threatened them against even sharing the same street with me...or even mentioning my name. And  that was the end of that. 

I find it hard to imagine him defending me as some form of chivalry or display of chest thumping considering his daily abuse of me and constant search in ways to make me miserable. Just doesnt compute...but then not much about him or his family ever made sense at all.

but thats my story and Im sticking to it.

Sometimes You Just Gotta Go With the Punch!!!...pt 2

So there I was...standing in the door way looking first from one hostile face to another (this would be SIL and oldest teen daughter) and then to Chief of Police, who had a very neutral look which he was perusing me with...but a very sharp glint in his eyes. I cannot describe even close to adequate the very nauseous feeling I had that things were going to get worse before they got better. At least I got to pee first...theres that!!!

I was invited to sit down, which I did with a great deal of hesitancy...sort of like sitting down reduced drastically my opportunities for escape...if only. At this point I was wondering if "pleading the 5th" was an acceptable answer for any or all questions that were going to start coming my way...hmmmm?

All this time daggers of outrage were being thrown my way with deadly accuracy by SIL who was no doubt contemplating the many ways she would make me pay for not staying put in the car. Im not a mind reader by nature but it wasnt hard to understand what she was thinking...if looks could kill and all that. Of course she was probably secretly happy that I was there...now the interfering foreign wife that she never wanted or agreed to for her brother was possibly going to get either thrown in jail or deported...or both...oh happy days!! Like I said...wasnt hard to read her face.

Im wondering at this point just what those two had told the Police Chief up to this point...the thing about being the late comer to the party...you have no idea what happened before you arrived and why everyone is either celebrating the greatness of the "never to be forgotten" party...or totally pissed off and several divorces have been announced due to excessive drinking and forbidden advances and invitations given.

Police Chief was sitting there looking at me with both hands under his chin...both of his index fingers pressed against his mouth as if in deep contemplation. It must have been a full minute before he said a word to me....and his English was pretty damn good (something I wasnt use to back then as many adults were not taught adequate English way back in the day...whatever).

Anyhow, his first question to me was whether or not I knew these two ladies sitting here beside me. My mind quickly searched for the pros and cons of admitting my relationship with them (such as it was) and as much as I would love to have answered "I have no friggin clue who they are...I just wandered in to use the bathroom"...I figured he might be just good enough at his job to see right through that...damn. So I slowly said....yeeeees! and crossed my fingers.

Second question was whether I knew what had happened and what I had seen. Hmmm? Tricky because I didnt know what they had said...mine field here...tread lightly. So I did the only thing I thought would get me out of this precarious position with freedom still an option...I told the truth...up to a point...lol.

I told him that there had been arguing and shouting and lots of drama but that I didnt understand Arabic adequately enough to really know what all the screaming was about. I just stood back and watched...a helpless bystander to the unfolding events. Once again his fingers came up to cover his mouth and he studied me again for a moment or two. *breath in...breath out....slooooowly*

I realize that there is a large portion of the American public that have never ever travelled outside the country and really have no clue what it means to be THE foreigner under police scrutiny. Thoughts of jail is the least of your worries. Bahrain has a rep for not being too kind with its foreign criminals when it comes to crimes committed against nationals. It matters very little if the national "started it" etc...what ever "it" was...as the foreigner you are guilty...plain and simple. (it has improved somewhat this 23 years...but not a whole lot). So while I knew that lying could very well end me in more hot water then telling the truth...I decided I would risk it (dont ask my why...Im known for making very bad decisions...story of my life and all that).

When he asked me did I know anything about the man that had been punched in the nose...I did my best innocent look (Im told its not that great...sigh) and said Im not sure...everything was so crazy...and dark...and lots of people...and an ice cream truck drove by...that sort of distracted me...and I was thinking about what I would cook for dinner...so theres that....and the point Im making if you havent caught it yet is that I was babbling...because Im not a very good liar at the best of times...and this certainly wasnt a good time for it.

Again the two index fingers came up to the mouth...and he studied me some more.
He asked me some other questions...how long had I been in Bahrain...did I like it (not a good question to ask me under the current circumstances eh?) ...did I miss America and was I positive I knew nothing about the assault. He threw that last one in there sneakily like I wouldnt notice and answer without thinking....but my brain was buzzing from all the careful thinking I was engaged in..Not catching me that easy...you gotta work to trip me up...mewwwwahhhhh!!! Im just saying...sigh.

Answer answer answer...breath in and out...blink a few times...try and control heart rate...and count the seconds until I simply passed out from anxiety.

The Chief asked a few more questions about the incident...what I thought was going on...did I understand any of what was being shouted...and did I know anything about the guy punched in the nose. (again with the sneaky question)....answer answer answer...breath breath breath...!!!...all the while in the back of my mind was the very doable fantasy of me making a run for the door...grabbing a taxi...speed like mad to the house and grab my kid, passports and head for same airport I had excitedly visited a few hours before...and rush through customs and get safely on the plane before these clowns could even scratch their heads and or think about reacting...I could totally do it...totally!!!

Now at some point it dawned on me that this Chief was no idiot...he knew very well that I was the one that had punched the man in the face...all though at this point he hadnt actually asked me directly if I had indeed punched the guy in the nose. I found that odd when I thought about it the next day. (I found out later that the man in question was already in the police station screaming about a crazy English lady that had assaulted him for no reason)...it didnt take a genius to add 2 and 2 and get 4...just how many "English" ladies were present in the parking lot and had anything remotely to do with the incident? Im guessing just 1...anyone else? I also realized that the sharp glint in his eye was also tinged with a touch of humor...could it be he didnt want to ask me directly because my answer would require him to act? Could it be he was sitting there thinking the guy maybe deserved it and punching an ass in the nose shouldnt be a punishable offense but deserving of a medal of some sort (wishful thinking I know)...could it be he just saw the humor of it all and wasnt willing to take it further which would require loads of paperwork and inquiries and me being a foreigner lots of other work that just wasnt worth it...Im thinking that one.

Anyhow...after a few more minutes of fingers on mouth reflection he said I could leave. Huge sigh of relief...I had to stop myself from running willy nilly out the door like a convict that had just realized someone had left the key in the lock for whatever reason...I thanked him...excused myself...and with as much dignity and self control as I could muster...I walked out of his office and made for the door.

Just about made it too...only another 5 feet and I would have been home free. Turns out my timing was a bit off and ex-boyfriend had just come into the lobby from his interrogation and spotted me (not that hard to do with all things considered...blazing red hair tends to not blend into...well anything...that well). He immediately started screaming and pointing his finger (the other hand was clutched over his injured nose that was covered in gauze of some sort...found out later that I had actually broken it...thats sorta cool all things considered) All though the Police Chief wasnt around just then the lobby had several other cops standing around trying not to stare at me...Im guessing that since none of them immediately came after me that they were assuming if Police Chief let me go then I must be "innocent" (snigger) and so the guy could scream all he wanted...I was free to go....and go I did. No telling what would have happened if Police Chief had come out just then...hard to ignore the evidence when the "victim" is screaming and pointing at the "criminal".

I got outside and hightailed it for the car and jumped in wishing I had the keys and to hell with how SIL and oldest teen daughter got home. Younger teen daughter was all worked up wondering how long my prison sentence was going to be and how come I wasnt wearing cuffs and all that...she had a warped sense of humor that one. I just sat there with pounding heart and equally pounding headache...and oh yeah...I had to pee again!!

Within a few minutes SIL and oldest teen daughter came out and got in the car with a bang and some ugly looks thrown my way (Im use to them ladies...Im rubber your glue and all that...nah nah nah) and headed for home. Nobody spoke which surprised me...I assumed I was in for an ass kicking...this was different.

It was about this time that I realized my hand was actually hurting quite alot. It was then I remembered that it had been aching for awhile now...I just hadnt had time or desire to focus on it...you know..impending prison sort of erases all other concerns out of your mind. I examined it and only then noticed the pretty bloom of blues and blacks all around it...especially around my pinky finger. Nicely swollen too. Could it actually be sprained...broken? Interesting thought.

At this point SIL looked over and noticed my hand as well. Now there have been very few moments in our long 23 year relationship in which she offered me any sort of kindness...whether in word or deed...so I was completely floored when she asked if I thought I needed to go to the hospital. Hmmmm? This sounded like a trick question...but I obviously needed to go so agreed that I did.

Awhile later when the doctor asked me how this happened I had a moment of panic wondering if she would call the cops when I confessed that I had just punched a national in the nose...ach! oh what tangled webs we weave when we desire to deceive....sigh! So instead I told her I fell down...simple enough. Then she looked at me like maybe I was an abused housewife and so poor me. I was willing to be viewed as a beaten housewife at that moment more than at any other time in my life...just put on the cast and let me go home. She did eventually and home we went.

It was 4 in the morning...a simple trip for some unneeded shopping had turned into something movies are made of...I had a cast on my hand (and was wondering what the Chief would have made of it if he had noticed my injured hand...maybe he did)...the added hatred of SIL piled on my head...and husband to contend with when he found out about this incident. I might add here that husband was in the military back in those days and because of the Gulf War was forced to stay at the base...so he wasnt actually home when we got home...lucky me...for now.

It was then that SIL asked me to please not inform husband of what had happened because, while she would no doubt gain immense pleasure at my ass being kicked by him...her daughter would also be "outed" for the "slut" that she was and that certainly wouldnt do. She didnt actually use those words but I got the point. I had no problems with keeping that particular adventure to myself...to my grave if need be...

Unfortunately what we plan for isnt always what we get...story of my life.

*to be continued