Simone in Bahrain: Light my Tire

So acute are my powers of observation that I only notice the billowing clouds of black smoke after the young guy in my green grocer has escorted me out to my car with bags of mangoes, tomatoes, parsley and the best looking rocket salad leaves I’ve seen in quite a while.

My local green grocer. What's in season is cheap, fresh and wonderful. What's not, isn't there.

My usual practice has been to drive to the end of the main drag of this titchy little village 30 metres away and turn around at the equally tiny roundabout, all the while feeling infinitely superior to the locals who variously drive along the wrong side of the road, swing out in front of you because they need to be on the other side of the road, or employ a kind of stacking system around the other, larger roundabout in front of the pharmacy, petrol station and grocery store.

It appears, however, that the black smoke is emanating from a pile of tyres burning merrily on top of it, so I lower my driving standards and U-turn out across the road with the best of them.

The locals express only a mild interest in the proceedings and it is quite difficult to see whether the fact that they are blocking the police vehicles entering the village is because they block everyone who gets in their way or else is as deliberate as it seems to be.  The police, poor darlings, are getting quite frustrated.

Exiting the village, I cross the road and am home.  The University of Bahrain, in front of which sits, as always, another police car, unaware of the tyre-burning nearby as he’s outside his car enjoying the evening and taking part in the national pastime: texting his mates on his phone.

University of Bahrain.  Gate No. 1.  Entrance to my home.The photos: King of Bahrain, Crown Prince, Prime Minister. 

The battle between the University – they would be photos of the King, the Crown Prince and the Prime Minister – is not new and has been savage.  “Oh my god!”  a good friend and colleague told her sister, “she shops in Dar Kulaib!” 

The village was the focus of demonstrations in 2011 when Shia students took over the university temporarily, barricading lecturers in rooms and not allowing some to leave.

I teach a large number of Shi’ite students of course, and they are as gorgeous as the Sunnis I teach, and as irritating, hard-working, lazy, polite, rude, intelligent or uninterested. 

And as my petrol, my fruit and veges, my milk, my medicine and cut keys all come from Dar Kulaib I’m going to be back there again very soon ‘cause it’s the cheapest, freshest and most helpful place to shop.

The hub of Dar Kulaib.  The village is 1km long and half as wide.

As a group of my students told me recently as part of a previously innocuous lesson on thesis development:  “The level of safety in Bahrain depends on where you are and where you are from.”  

So I am very relieved to be Australian.  And equally so to be working in Bahrain. 

Hope you like where you're living and working too.

Simone, the Safely Home.