.:: SILLY BAHRAINI GIRL ::.

Let the fun begin ..

2011-02-14T14:28:00.005+03:00

The "fun" started last night - and as expected there was a face-off, between protesters and the police force in the village of Karzakan.
And as is the case, there are two versions of the story:
The Ministry of Interior surprisingly opened a Twitter account last night and tweeted:

Illegal rally in Karzakan 3 policemen attacked, Police had to fire 2 rubber buttons. 1st as warning shot 2nd bounced & hit a demonstrator

I know, it reads like a cartoon script, but that is the problem with 140-character messages, particularly those written by sci-fi writers.

The other side paints a story of horror and gore, the use of excessive police brutality, casualties, and loads of tear gas, rubber bullets and shot guns - all documented with photographs being mass circulated on BBM, the Internet and word of mouth.

Bint Battuta in Bahrain translates the demands from the protests, starting across the country today here. And while most of them are legitimate, and something each decent Bahraini aspires to, a copy-cat revolution, with a Facebook event, is not what a sectarian divided Bahrain needs today.

These marches if anything will continue to fan the flames of sectarianism, pitting one neighbour against the other, in a country where mistrust between the two sects is becoming the trademark of our existence. We all know that the protests will be quashed. The riot police will not smile to the protesters and let them do their bit and go to their homes. There will be a crackdown, and it will be excessive, hard and brutal - but then every protester taking the streets already knows that.

Over the past few days I watched with horror as Bahrainis plummeted to the dark side, with new name tags on every ungrateful soul not drooling at the government and the scraps it throws at us to play fetch with. Fetch because whatever goes into one pocket, goes out the other. And play because even if one gesture or the other is genuine, the big picture shows that there is some big flaw in a reform project we all welcomed with open arms but are now becoming disillusioned with.

As you can see, I am not a huge fan of the government. I am also not a fan of stirring unrest in Bahrain. And I am also totally against the way the security forces will clampdown on any dissent or opposition - the same opposition I am not a fan of because of my liberal leanings, which don't mix well with the turban bearded mantra. But having said all this, my sympathy is with my country men and women, with the poor and needy, with those working hard to make ends meet, with those striving to have a roof on their heads, with those studying hard and eager to join the job market - with the decent Bahrainis out there who want to live in a land of equal opportunities and feel proud that they are Bahrainis - Just Bahraini, Not Sunni or Shia. (By the way, Just Bahraini - a bloggers initiative to fight sectarianism is BLOCKED by the Government of Bahrain!!!!)

What I am with is a civil dialogue and what I want to see today is the real Bahrainis standing up and stopping any bloodshed, anger and correcting the wrongs of the past. I also want to see goodwill and trust - trust from both the government and the people. I want us to believe and I want to be able to dream of a better Bahrain for my children. I want us all to give each other the benefit of the doubt and develop a capacity to listen to each other without calling each other unpatriotic, traitor or an agent of the West or Iran.

As Bahrainis, we need to sit down with each other and address our long list of woes, and work together on solving them. Sandwiched between Saudi Arabia and Iran, it would be foolish to demand a full democracy, with real emancipation, freedoms and citizens rights. I understand and accept that as this is my country and this is my destiny. What I do not accept and will never accept is the cesspit of sectarian bigotry we are drowning in.

The government needs to stop its games, the mental ones particularly, because all decent Bahrainis, Sunnis and Shia, are aware. The hoarse crow's caw will continue to reverberate but we will need to step out of the noise, call out corruption and rise above all the mistrust and work towards a common goal: A Bahrain we will all be proud to live in and work together for its progress and prosperity.

My own family and network of friends include people from the full spectrum of Bahrainis - Sunnis and Shias, those who spend more time in the Matams and mosques than with their families and those who cannot go a day without breaking one religious ruling or another - and we all live in peace, accepting each other and civil in the way we treat one another.

Having said all this: I will not march in the streets. I will stay put, surrounded by my cats and loved ones, hoping for peace in my restive country.

Dealing with Hardcore News!

2011-01-30T14:31:00.004+03:00

Is the revolution contagious? And could what started as a one-man act in Sidi Bouzid, in Tunisia, be reverberating across the Arab world, where many of today's young men and women grew up with the same ageing heads of state ruling them, and every other aspect of their lives?

My Twitterfeed is abuzz with hashtags, calling for revolutions across the region, from Algeria to my very own Bahrain. There is even a calendar of events being circulated, which I didn't get - making me feel like Cinderella, whose ugly step sisters were invited to the party while I was shunned.

The fast-paced events taking the Arab world by storm since December 17 have left many of us in awe, riding on the revolution tide. From my vantage point, I am seeing an influx of reactions even from the most downtrodden people, making me worry about their safety and security, knowing too well that even expressing your feelings could very well carry a price tag in certain countries in our region.

I have spent the previous painful hour talking to a hardcore journalist from New York - at least that is what he described himself as. I explained to him the work we do at Global Voices Online and how we aggregate material written by the people, for the people. He said he knew all that and wasn't interested. He wanted hard news. He wanted facts. I told him we are publishing what we have and finding the facts was his job. He asked me what was next. I told him that is for the clairvoyant to tell us. He explained to me over and over again how he was a professional journalist, implying that I was a novice, who has started to learn how to type yesterday. What is Bahrain? he asked. And then added: "Bahrain is Bahrain, I suppose!" He asked if I have a television set? He said that he would stream Al Jazeera now and watch the developments online. I shook my head in horror and didn't tell him that Al Jazeera was a stone's throw away, and that if I look out of my window, and gaze into the horizon I will be able to see its shed-like building (that is how I saw it last! No offence, but please tell me you have grand offices now, with the splendour we are used to here in the Gulf!) in the glare of the distant desert.

I know that I have started my career as a journalist and have worked in the field for a good 15 years. But some of the specimens out there leave a lot to desire in what was once a profession I cherished and romanticised. I wrote that in the past tense, because my more recent work in citizen media over the past five years puts some of those larger-than-thou characters to shame. This journalist I was speaking to, responded to every word I uttered with "I know!!" If you know everything, and I am not offering you anything new or newsworthy, why are you wasting my time and yours at 5am in the morning your time?

In all my years as a journalist, I had thought that my role was to listen with compassion and understanding, and ask the relevant questions, at the right time. There were times I had to be aggressive and many others where the conversation would naturally flow until I got the story I desired. But that is how we do our business here, in the Gulf, where respect still has a place in people's code of ethics and it's difficult to find a lot of people talking down to people in a condescending manner.

The hard-hitting questions I was asked are: What is happening now in Egypt? What will happen next? Who will be the next president? What do you know about Mohammed ElBaradei? Where will Mubarak go to? And how many people were killed and injured in #Jan25? He was also the one who told me that the Arab League was circulating a calendar of events noting where the next revolutions will start across the Arab world. The Arab League? Yeah, right. Please splatter that across all the headlines of all the major newspapers across the US and A, so that they know how much the Arab League is in touch with the grievances of its own people, and how blessed we all are to have such a spineless organisation!

Seriously? The Arab League?

The truth is that all those questions are legitimate but I am not the person to answer them. I consume the news just like the rest of us, with the only bonus point being, is that I am able to string citizen media reactions and post articles on an international platform, that only deals with citizen media reactions!

Burnt out, I will now go and play with my cats. At least, since they have no access to the Internet, I can rest assured that there will never be a mutiny in my household and none of them would ever aspire to have my life!

What's up with the French?

2011-01-20T12:02:00.003+03:00

For the previous two weeks, I have been refreshing the French Embassy's visa appointment page constantly - with no luck!

My plans for a vacation in Paris are being cut short because the French Embassy refuses to speak to people in person, has no one answering the phone regarding visa inquiries and has a website which refuses to make appointments.

I have tried the website during different hours of the day and night; I have asked my husband to go to the Embassy and speak to them and they turned him back saying he had to make an appointment , and we have called the Embassy over and over again, with no luck.

To get a visa to France, you need to book an appointment online. To book an appointment online, you need to access the website. And when you access the website, you are not able to book an appointment online. I wonder if anyone at the French Embassy has ever tried their website to see how infuriating booking an appointment is.

I have tried accessing it on Safari, on Firefox and on Chrome. Do I now have to install Internet Explorer to access it?

Here are their instructions:

To use this procedure, it is recommended that you have the following configuration :

- Internet Explorer 6 (Windows) and higher versions with Service Pack 2
or Firefox 1 and higher versions
or Mozilla 1.7.8 and higher versions
- you should also have Adobe Acrobat Reader 5 or higher to print your appointment receipt.
If not, you can download the software on the Adobe Acrobat Reader website

- you need to enable your computer to open pop-ups by changing your browser settings.

I was under the impression that I was able to follow instructions, since that it how we as Bahrainis are programmed, but apparently the French have managed to teach me a new lesson this month.

What annoys me more than those roadblocks which we face when we Bahrainis attempt to apply for Schengen visas is knowing the ease with with any European just has to flash his passport at our borders for the gates of heaven to open for them.

Last year, during the Icelandic volcano, I was stuck in Berlin. I had a four-day visa, and when it expired, I had to go to the police at the airport every single day to get a paper in my passport stamped - because my visa had run out!

Gaddafi's Internet Rant

2011-01-16T14:23:00.003+03:00

Gaddafi addressed the Tunisians. Here's a transcript of his erm... speech and this is, of course, my favourite part:

حتى أنتم إخواني التوانسة ، ربما أنكم تقرؤون في الكلينكس هذا ، والكلام الفارغ في الإنترنت . وهذا الإنترنت ، الذي أي واحد أهبل ؛ يسكر ويحط فيه أي كلام ، هل تصدقه !. الإنترنت هذا مثل الكناسة التي ترمي فيها أي حاجة ، فأي واحد تافه ؛ أي واحد كذاب ؛ أي واحد سكران ؛ أي واحد مخمور ؛ واحد شارب الأفيون ؛ يقدر يقول أي كلام في الإنترنت ، وأنتم تقرؤونه وتصدقونه .. هذا كلام بدون فلوس.. هل نصبح نحن ضحية لـ «فيسبوك» وضحية «الكلينكس « وضحية «يوتيوب»!، نصبح ضحية الأدوات التي صنعوها هم لكي يضحكوا بأمزجتنا !.. نحن نقرر مصيرنا ، حسب الحقائق وحسب حاجتنا.. ثم إن هذا ليس عصر الدم ؛ وعصر الدخان ؛ وعصر الحرق ، وعصر السكاكين ؛ و»الشيتات» ؛والفؤوس .. هذا عصر الجماهير ، المفروض عصر الديمقراطية ؛ كل شيء يا بـ «الإنتخاب ، يا «الاستفتاء» ، يا بالسلطة الشعبية المباشرة ؛ الديمقراطية الشعبية المباشرة .. وليس بـ «الإشاعات» ؛ وبـ «الفيسبوك» ؛ وبـ «اليوتيوب» ؛ وبـ «الكلينكس» ؛ و»ويكيليكس وبرقيات السفراء الأمريكان ، وشبكة المعلومات الدولية الإنترنت هذه هي التي الآن تضحك علينا ، ونهّتكوا في ديارنا ؛ ونمزق ملابسنا ؛ ونقتل أولادنا ، من أجلها .

It's always a pleasure reading/listening to Gaddafi speak because you never know what gems will come flying out of that mouth. This is the part which left me in stitches:

His Smartiness not only calls Wikileaks Kleenex but says that what's written on the Internet is "empty talk"!!

He says:

This Internet, which any demented person, any drunk can get drunk and write in, do you believe it? The Internet is like a vacuum cleaner, it can suck anything. Any useless person; any liar; any drunkard; anyone under the influence; anyone high on drugs; can talk on the Internet, and you read what he writes and you believe it. This is talk which is for free. Shall we become the victims of "Facebook" and "Kleenex" and "YouTube"! Shall we become victims to tools they created so that they can laugh at our moods? We decide our destiny, based on facts and our needs. Besides, this is not the era of blood, of smoke, of burning, of knives and axes; this is the era of the people, and supposedly the era of democracy. Everything is by election and referendum, ie, through the people's direct authority, which is the people's direct democracy, and not through rumours, and Facebook, and YouTube, and the Kleenex and the cables of American Ambassadors. This world wide web Internet is laughing at us and damaging our countries; it is tearing up our clothes; and killing our children for it.

The thing is, I am yet to find a demented person, under the influence, high on alcohol and drugs, who is able to utter such nonsense!

Gaddafi's Internet Rant

2011-01-16T14:23:00.000+03:00

Gaddafi addressed the Tunisians. Here's a transcript of his erm... speech and this is, of course, my favourite part:

حتى أنتم إخواني التوانسة ، ربما أنكم تقرؤون في الكلينكس هذا ، والكلام الفارغ في الإنترنت . وهذا الإنترنت ، الذي أي واحد أهبل ؛ يسكر ويحط فيه أي كلام ، هل تصدقه !. الإنترنت هذا مثل الكناسة التي ترمي فيها أي حاجة ، فأي واحد تافه ؛ أي واحد كذاب ؛ أي واحد سكران ؛ أي واحد مخمور ؛ واحد شارب الأفيون ؛ يقدر يقول أي كلام في الإنترنت ، وأنتم تقرؤونه وتصدقونه .. هذا كلام بدون فلوس.. هل نصبح نحن ضحية لـ «فيسبوك» وضحية «الكلينكس « وضحية «يوتيوب»!، نصبح ضحية الأدوات التي صنعوها هم لكي يضحكوا بأمزجتنا !.. نحن نقرر مصيرنا ، حسب الحقائق وحسب حاجتنا.. ثم إن هذا ليس عصر الدم ؛ وعصر الدخان ؛ وعصر الحرق ، وعصر السكاكين ؛ و»الشيتات» ؛والفؤوس .. هذا عصر الجماهير ، المفروض عصر الديمقراطية ؛ كل شيء يا بـ «الإنتخاب ، يا «الاستفتاء» ، يا بالسلطة الشعبية المباشرة ؛ الديمقراطية الشعبية المباشرة .. وليس بـ «الإشاعات» ؛ وبـ «الفيسبوك» ؛ وبـ «اليوتيوب» ؛ وبـ «الكلينكس» ؛ و»ويكيليكس وبرقيات السفراء الأمريكان ، وشبكة المعلومات الدولية الإنترنت هذه هي التي الآن تضحك علينا ، ونهّتكوا في ديارنا ؛ ونمزق ملابسنا ؛ ونقتل أولادنا ، من أجلها .

Covering the Tunisian Uprising

2011-01-14T20:21:00.003+03:00

My Twitterfeed is going crazy - thanks to the fast paced developments in Tunisia and it doesn't look like things will slow down anytime soon. I am fortifying myself with an assortment of tea and banishing my gang of seven cats to another part of the house to sit back and watch and report on the unfolding historic events in what is now becoming a Twitterised Revolution.

My brain seems to have had an information overload, which is all the more ironic since mainstream media first gave the Tunisian uprising the cold shoulder, before being lured back to covering its shocking horrible details after the blood of the unarmed and the helpless was splattered across our screens. The complaint was that there wasn't enough information to justify covering a story. Online, the virtual reality is a different story. There, you can find a chronology of blog posts and photographs, videos and tweets, petitions and solidarity calls from far and wide, which provide the backdrop for a live uprising, which we have been witnessing from our little computer screens and handheld toys since December 17.

What started as a revolt of the hungry and unemployed soon found root in a country that has been strangled by Ben Ali and his clan for 23 years. The West's model of a stable country turned out to be a sham and their double standards, particularly following Wikileaks' Cablegate expose, has become a screaming shame for anyone with decency.

Is it an uprising, a revolt or a rebellion? Who cares? What matters now is that Tunisian people are making their voices heard, using the very tools their government had suppressed since their creation. Videos in the hundreds were posted online showing how the police used live ammunition to suppress protests in a country that had banned and blocked YouTube and other video hosting sites since 2007. The #sidibouzid hashtag became a constant on our Twitterfeed, in the same country activists were arrested in and bloggers and netizens bullied in order to shut them up.

In the land of censorship, the world's Enemy of the Internet, is waking up to see that the medium it suppressed all along came to bite it in the dark. I hope there is a lesson for all of us to learn from this and my wishful thinking begs me to hope that it is a lesson of more openness and transparency.

Tunisia's woes did not start on December 17 - they go way back. And people were talking and expressing themselves and their worries and concerns in the only medium open to them (online), and they were muzzled.

To all the Enemies of the Internet out there, get close to your people and listen to them. Their requirements are in line with all the charters you have signed for as members of the United Nations, as part of your universal responsibility towards your herd. If you do just that, we will have a win-win situation. You can continue to rule your people for life and ensure that you stay in your seats forever after!

In Bahrain, Only LOW CLASS People Live in Apartments, Says Zain

2011-01-11T13:46:00.003+03:00

Have you heard about the kettle calling the pot black? Well, it's all in this comment which popped in my inbox a few minutes ago.

Zain writes:

Maybe you're just butt ugly and guys don't really give a shit if you're sweating or tired or whatever... seriously, your comments are so racist... if you want to know what rude is, spend a day in New York City, London or Paris. You've probably never left Bahrain and thats why you feel the way you do... Above that, living in a flat in Bahrain you will always encounter people of all classes, no matter how "up market" you claim it to be, because the upper class here, LIVE IN HOUSES with BIG GARDENS. So if you are judging a race by a bunch of no bodies living in flats on top of eachother like sardines, its almost like judging a whole country by spending a day in community housing. Seriously, get an education. RACIST lady.

I won't comment here on my looks, class or travels, because some of those were bestowed on me by the Almighty, and others I have earned through hard work and dedication.

What hurt me in this comment is the condescending manner in which people in my Bahrain look at their fellow Bahrainis, particularly those not born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Overnight, the simple humble Bahraini has become materialistic, with Prada, Louis Vuitton and Gucci (not that I am not a sucker for them, but that is something between me, myself and I to come to terms with when I grow up) replacing manners, education and simply being human.

Girls check out how other girls are decked and their friend-worthiness is judged by their Jimmy Choo and their Rolex collections. The make of car you drive opens traffic jams for you and the hairdresser who irons your unruly mane gives you your status in a society which lives its life, oblivious of the suffering of the masses - the poor Bahrainis, who drive a Datsun, who's only brush with luxury is a fake LV and who live stacked, one on top of the other, in government apartments.

The comment I got above drives home this point and I am not generalising for I have lived all my life in Bahrain, not counting the lovely four years I thrived in Canada and the four-five pilgrimages I make to wherever my free time, work commitments and fancy take me annually. I encounter Bahrainis daily, Bahrainis living in debt because they need to drive a Lexus and get their daughters Chanel shoes! I see Bahrainis who take loans and buy phones and television sets on instalments because we have turned into a society in love with images - no matter how unrealistic they are.

This young woman, who has never seen beyond the tip of her nose, has said that all the Bahrainis living in flats in Bahrain are "nobodies living on top of each like sardines." And then she has the audacity to call me racist!! I won't even dignify that with a response.

Perhaps in our next Cabinet reshuffle, Ms Zain Al Thawadhi should be given the housing portfolio, to ensure that every Bahraini lives in .. what did she say.. oh .. "HOUSES with BIG gardens." And if she does turn down that offer, she can come and work in my BIG garden so that I can give my gardeners Arshad and Mani a much deserved break!

National Security and the Woman Who Wants to Become an Animal

2011-01-04T18:50:00.004+03:00

Isn't it funny how I, along with the rest of Bahrain, read with bewilderment the news of the Bahraini woman who managed to cross immigration and security at the Bahrain International Airport, board a plane to Oman, actually get out of the airport, past the Omani immigration and security, get into a taxi, and try and a meet a 'wizard' in the hope that he would change her into an animal (I swear that is what the newspapers in Bahrain wrote today) - all without an airline ticket or passport, on the same day that I discover that this blog is blocked in Wonderland?

And isn't it even more depressing that such a breach of security happens in the post-September 11 era, where we all saw with horror planes crashing into iconic towers in New York, killing thousands of people and scarring the rest of us for life?

In a poor country like Bahrain which wastes it's resources on filtering the Internet and censoring its content, suppressing free thought and oppressing bright minds, shouldn't the government spend what is left of its budget in securing our borders and safeguarding the innocent people of Bahrain from any possible threats from people who get into phantom mode and freely travel across the Land of the Lord, without a ticket or passport, or in the case of this woman, money for that matter?

How did this happen and what will we read in the newspapers as a follow up to this story? Will we perhaps get the shock of our lives and read that the daydreamers tasked with securing our borders have been questioned and disciplined?

And how many more people have been able to sneak past security, get on planes, travel to other countries, without being stopped, or detected? How can this possibly happen at this day and age where our footsteps are being counted and our thoughts censored and repressed even before we get the chance to vent off and jot them down on a piece of paper or post them online using the labouriously slow internet services, we pay for from our hard earned money?

Seriousness aside, I don't know what this woman's problem is but I think the fact that she wants to turn into another creature, using the wizardry of our Omani brethren, says a lot about the way many Bahrainis feel about their Bahraininess.

My Blog is Blocked in Bahrain!

2011-01-04T12:44:00.003+03:00

My deserted blog has been blocked in Bahrain. Out of the blue, I get a message that my blog has been "blocked for violating regulations and laws of Bahrain" when I tried to access it this morning.
What laws and regulations have I violated you dimwits? And how exactly can you block me from writing and expressing myself? And once you have stopped me from accessing my website through your firewall of repression, how can you stop the rest of the world from seeing how childish and arrogant your heavy-handedness on free speech is?

Today, you have proved to me without doubt that you are a regime which lives in fear - in fear of the written word and free minds. You have tried to silence me for no reason. You have stepped on my toes. You have violated my rights. You don't know what animal you have unleashed.

I have turned a blind eye on the violations that you commit everyday and amid my moral and ethical dilemma pressed on with life, keeping myself busy with my home, family and cats. Yes, you morons. To numb my mind from the atrocities you commit everyday in the name of my country, my Bahrain, I spend my mornings grooming my seven Persian cats. If you need to know, I actually spend a few hours a day combing them and another few hours playing with them. I have curtailed my writing activities when I realised that whatever we write and say is useless, in a country hellbent on distorting the truth and alienating its own people.

I have kept my mouth shut when a minister from your cabinet spoke on television and lied, saying there are no poor people in Bahrain, despite the daily miseries we see with our very own eyes everyday.

I have ignored comments from your government officials saying that the unemployed in Bahrain do not want to work, despite not getting a suitable job in Bahrain since my return to my wonderland more than 18 months ago. Yes, someone with my experience and credentials is unemployed in Bahrain because I have not had the heart to start feeling sorry for myself and talk to people who know people who can employ me.

When your minister in charge of housing spoke on television, stating that every Bahraini had in fact benefited from decent adequate government housing, my jaw fell but I did not blog about it. I was too busy at the time looking for a house within my budget to provide me with shelter from the elements, including the goons on the streets, pointing their guns at passers-by.

And when you had your infamous crackdown on the 'disenchanted dissidents,' I was on holiday, protecting myself from witnessing the horrors you are committing on your own people, just because you think they are not your people. I also bit my tongue and swallowed it, when a leading figure spoke in a television interview, defending the Shia of Bahrain, saying that their allegiance is not for Iran. Like we now have to defend ourselves for being Bahraini - for being the downtrodden second-class (third-class if you are a woman) Bahrainis, who happened to live on this land for generations.

And speaking of television, I did not write a post when the ticker on your national television screen called Bahrain's Shia 'rewafedh' - a derogatory term coined by the mountain goats - and hurled insults on my people, who also happen to be Bahrainis to the core, unlike the tens of thousands of naturalised Bahrainis you have imported en masse to change the demographic population of my country - my Bahrain.

What laws and regulations have I violated for my blog to be blocked? And how exactly can you block me? How do you intend to silence me? You can stop my readers from accessing my posts in Bahrain, but how would you shield the rest of the world from seeing the truth as it is, without censorship and repression?

In conclusion, allow me to correct you. You are the ones violating the Constitution in denying me and scores of other bloggers the right to express our opinions. Signing the Human Rights Charter wasn't just a show for the rest of the world. We don't live in a circus.

Seriously? Why do I still get blocked pages?

2010-12-05T12:07:00.005+03:00

Well, well, well. There are 101 blog posts in my head waiting to be written. There are another 1001 'urgent' and not too urgent articles waiting to be typed. And there is a life waiting to be lived. In the meanwhile, all that I am doing is waiting. Waiting for Summer to turn into Winter, and Spring into Autumn - not that we really have seasons in Bahrain, but you get the the idea.

The truth is that I have been waiting. Just simply plainly waiting. Waiting for things to change. Waiting for life to get better - and not even keeping track of time. It really hits me as a surprise when I realise that it's a Friday, for instance, because everyday has become a Friday for me. And I kid you not, I did a somersault when I saw today's date and realised that we just have a few more eye blinks until the end of the year. Two or three at the most, especially at the rate I am going in.

Ask me not what I did in 2010 for the answer is null. Nada. Nada. Nada. And don't you dare tell me that I am being ungrateful or hard on myself because sometime ago I made a pact with myself not to jump over to the dark side, and I have kept that promise. I have continued to remain upbeat and positive (sort of), I have continued to keep my house tidy (sometimes), and I have played with, fed and groomed my cats without fail on all the days I have been in Bahrain.

Like me, Bahrain has tried to remain the same this past year. But unlike me, it has gone to the dark side - to a place of nightmares, hallucinations and dark thoughts. A place of schemes, webs and plots, and hilariously laughable mind games which we continue to pay the price for. And just as I have sheltered myself from all the bad things in life, content with a very small group of relatives and friends and my non-sectarian gang of 11 cats, Bahrain has shut itself up in a self-made cocoon, weaved with lies and half-truths and sealed with frustrations. What baffles me the most is when intelligent people fall into the trap of lying on themselves and believing in those lies. How does that really work? Yes, politics is a dirty game but do we really have to accept the fact that we are being gagged and our thoughts are being monitored for the common good? Do we really need to continue sticking our heads in the sand and get all that dirt into our eyes so that we can blame the desert for our blindness?

What good does it make to censor whole swats of the Internet? How does that work again when even the least technical person among us can bypass that proxy and dig into the world wide web, reading and learning and understanding? When have we become a nation that loathes itself and become an enemy of openness and transparency? Why do we still get those wretched blocked pages and worst of all, why are we all so quiet about it?

Why is Google Translate, for instance, blocked? What purpose does that serve in a country which prides itself for being at the forefront of education, development and breakthroughs and what breakthroughs do we exactly pride ourselves of? Seriously. Come on! Will we ever reach a stage where we are treated as mature citizens or will we continue to live happily basking in the thought that we are subjects in our Wonderland? Or are the rights and responsibilities too big a chore for us to bear? Just asking.

MEOW!

2010-07-29T13:44:00.005+03:00

It's been a while and I don't really know where to start!
Moving back to Bahrain has certainly been more stressful than I had anticipated and the year I have been back simply evapourated. It just vanished and I have not much to account for it except this lovely litter of cats, who meow day and night - real suckers for attention.

Last Valentine's, my better half decided to surprise me with two cats, aptly named Twitter and Flickr. Unbeknown to me, Twitter was expecting. A quick visit to the vet for their jabs confirmed the inevitable, and two months down the road I was charged with caring for five kittens. When people talk about bundles of joy, they totally miss the point if they don't visualise those furry, purring, adorable angels from heaven.

Needless to say, they take up most of my time - and energy. When they were first born, friends earmarked my babies for themselves and I smiled and nodded and procrastinated and stopped answering certain phone calls!

I totally understand that seven cats is a bit too much - and appreciate the world's concern, for both the cats and my well-being. Right now, I run the risk of being described as the crazy old woman with lots of cats, and who is also silly, and if I had more than one middle finger I would have taken immense joy in waving them!

My life, my choice, my cats!

Chicken Soup for Me; Chicken Shit for You!

2010-02-04T09:55:00.006+03:00

He is suggesting I take chicken soup to cure my flu - a ridiculous ailment that has decided to attack my fragile (state of mind) and which doesn't want to go away. It seems that I am stuck with this situation and as much as it (the flu) loves me, I can't stand it. I am fed up of a clogged nose and ears - and a headache, which I am having difficulty getting used to.

Enough about my flu and back to the chicken soup he is suggesting. In my feverish bout, me, myself and I think we should get into the car and drive ourselves to the nearby Isa Town suq, and get some chickens. In no time, the chickens should become friendly with each other and start laying eggs; the eggs, I can use for breakfast and baking, and sit on the rest until they hatch. The hatched chickens will repeat cycle A and I can be in business.

As a side kick, I can live happily ever after packing the chicken shit in containers and selling it to you for your organic farm.

I know. Too much cold and flu medication does cloud your judgment.

Shut Down the Internet.. Please

2010-01-19T01:02:00.004+03:00

The ridiculousness of my Wonderland doesn't confuse me anymore. There isn't anything logical or rational about it but then I am not saying anything new really am I?
Why am I ranting? I am ranting because of all the random blocked sites and the fact that we are silent about it all.

Take today for instance. A friend of mine sent me a picture of a golden Ferrari, owned by X prince from NeverNeverLand. I rolled my eyes in horror (not that I would say no if it was handed to me for FREE on a golden platter) and went to my bible Google for a consultation. I search 'gold ferrari' - I try clicking on a link .. and horror oh horror .. the site is BLOCKED and here's a screenshot to prove that I am not delusional but simply confused and horrified at the ridiculousness of such bans.

Desperate times call for desperate measures and my heart really goes out to the apparatus in this country tasked with monitoring the Internet and censoring those sites. It takes time, money and real bad publicity (have you seen how Bahrain's ranking is slipping lower and lower in international indicators on freedom, transparency, democracy and all those sound bites we all seem so knowledgeable about?) To save us all this stress, I, someone with very humble experience in this field, would like to suggest something for the powers out there: Please please please end this farce. Shut down the Internet. Come and confiscate all our computers and toys, creations of infidels and signs of Satanist worship. Let's go back to our roots. And since we live in the desert, let's teach our children how to make clay tablets - and the rest as they say is history :)

From Beirut, With Love

2009-12-10T14:04:00.008+03:00

Greetings from Beirut, a city which makes me choke at times, knowing what it has been through and sympathising with what it could go through. While many let go and enjoy the moment, including all the Lebanese here who know how to live the moment and deserve to, I just can't. Not in Beirut, not anywhere else. One day maybe. Not today.

Today, we are at the Arab Bloggers meeting, the second. It started with a conversation, a dream, or for people who know me, a moan. "Why can't we have something like this for Arab bloggers?" I told Tunisian Sami ben Gharbia, my colleague at Global Voices, as we Skyped with him from Miami last year.

Thanks to Sami's relentless efforts, and funding from The Heinrich Böll Foundation and Global Voices Online, with support from HIVOS and the Open Society Institute, we meet in Beirut today: Around 80 bloggers from 19 countries.

Bloggers from Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Sudan, Palestine, Syria, Lebanon, Egypt, Tunisia, Mauritania, Somalia, Morocco, Algeria, Oman, Tunisia and Yemen are here - as well as Americans, a Brit, a Dutch, a few Germans and a Bolivian.

We are all gathered here, from December 8 to 12, to discuss all that there is to talk about related to blogging, citizen journalism, new media and how to get people talking to each other and connecting with one another. The event is super friendly, with many of us having met before or connected virtually and it is a big happy party.

There is a lot of work too - as people network and learn from each other, attend one presentation after the other, try to clone themselves to attend as many workshops as they possibly can fit into and continue to have an overwhelming sense of awe and appreciation for all that is happening. Being at such gatherings, meetings that have been put together carefully and where all the participants are genuine, is a humbling experience.

The Internet connection is so so here. The tech people are trying their best. For regular updates, tune into to #ab09 on Twitter, where I tweet as @JustAmira

If there is anything blogging or citizen media related you would like to touch on, please contact me or send me a direct message on Twitter and we will try to accommodate as much of the feedback we get.

Stay tuned, and happy and safe blogging.

Drama, drama queens and beggars

2009-10-08T07:40:00.008+03:00

I know it doesn't warrant a post on its own - or me breaking my blogging silence with a debut post about her. Seriously. She doesn't deserve the attention. But I guess I have to do it and I will. It will be therapeutic so please dim the lights and here we go! And also, I haven't had time to write here because I have been really busy but that isn't my story today, this is:

It started on the second day I arrived in Bahrain. I landed at night and by noon, I was sat at the kitchen table when she walked in. She looked at me and yelled: "Ya3333eeeeee3, what have you done to yourself. You look terrible."

Unlike her, I don't cake my face with layers of make up the minute I wake up. So, I was sat at home, not wearing make up - something I do without shame, even when I go out. It isn't like I was sitting in front of her without clothes. Besides, there isn't anything wrong with my face for me to conceal and there is no law that I should be sparkling at all hours. The last time I checked I was a human being with soul and substance and not a lightbulb with orange lipstick and blue eye shadow (I swear she does wear that). And while I don't really want to talk about God's creations, hers is a serious case and she seriously needs the immediate intervention of one of those cosmetic surgeons at her young age of 48. I know the fact that her husband is a good 12 years younger than she is is leaving this huge dent on her self-confidence - but her problems and issues aren't really for me to solve, not on my first day in the country or ever. I won't go where certified shrinks have failed. It isn't worth it.

Next up, she asks me how long I will continue being without a car. Now, for those of you unaware of the SHITuation, I was away from Bahrain for almost FOUR years: Out of this country in another one where I had a car. In this country, there was no use for me to keep a car because I was not here. I had just been in the country for less than a day and she asks me why I STILL don't have a car. I thanked her for her concern and told her the truth - that I had just returned from looking at cars and was considering a few options. This was my first day in Bahrain, after all. And she knew all this, and she knew that not having a car on your first morning isn't a crime.

She then dons the advisor's robe - something I had not asked for - and something I won't welcome from her, an uneducated insecure woman who doesn't know how to run her life and who has had a fight (I swear) with each and every single household in this extended family!

She tells me that when I chose a car, I must select a car "my level;" When I asked her what my level was, she said: "You know: a Corolla or a Camry. Something which suits your level." Now there isn't anything wrong with Toyotas. But what's with "my level." And why is she saying it in such a condescending manner?

Shocked, I ask her why she doesn't think I could get myself a Lexus or a BMW. You should have seen the smirk on her sorry face: She screamed and said that people who look at those cars are people with money in their pockets and not you - pointing at me. I don't ever remember discussing my finances with her - and I know this is low - but I have to spit it out: or I won't.

By the afternoon, a friend picked me up from home and we looked at other car showrooms. I saw one I liked and booked it. When I returned home, she was sat waiting for me. Grilling session two started.

"You still have no car?" she asks, with that stupid smile.

"Not yet. But I booked one," I answer when I shouldn't have.

"What did you get?" she asks.

"A Camry," I lie.

"What colour?" she questions, as if it will make a difference in her life.

"Black," I tell her, not knowing what will hit me next.

Man, you should have heard that scream which came out from her ugly trap - as if I had just performed Female Genital Mutilation on her.

"A black Camry. YA3333333EEEEEEEEEEEEEE33333333. That is so disgusting. You are making my stomach turn," she yells at no one in particular.

Again. What does my car have to do with her and her life and her stupidity? I ignore the freak and go up to my room (I am staying with my in laws until I get a house of my own - more on that in another post).

The next day, she is again at it - asking about what car I am getting. A Camry I lie to her. More drama. You know, I think I need to stop this before it grows. I tell her as long as I am disgusting, and I look disgusting, and then there is this thing about "my level" and she has a serious problem with my carlessness - we better not talk to each other because I have nothing I would like to exchange with her and then leave.

You can guess the rest of the drama and what happens to her when she sees the car my husband got me as a GIFT!!!

Let's Ramadan .. or maybe ...

2009-08-22T17:57:00.002+03:00

Do you feel like Ramadaning this year?

something is amiss

2009-08-15T12:20:00.005+03:00

The dust and heat are wreaking havoc with me. For some reason, the floodgates of tears waiting to be unleashed have evaporated and all that is left is a trickle which resembles a constipated pee, forcing itself to come out when nothing else in this barren desert wants to move.

I have been having this urge to cry for a few days .. perhaps a week or more .. certainly more .. and the tears just refuse to fall. These are the same tears which come to me naturally, the very tears I expertly summon or shyly wipe away, depending on the occasion and audience. They too have let me down.

And now they refuse to cooperate, leaving me with prickly dry eyes, a heavy feeling in my chest and a sense of uselessness. I haven't quite figured out what it is that is creating this feeling when I tell myself how thankful I should be now that I am back home, to my family and friends, a job and a social life. Amid all this, something is amiss. And in all this noise, all I want is a quiet corner, where I can rest my head and cry. Once I have let those tears out, perhaps I might become more enlightened and know what it is I so need to cry over.

Looking Up

2009-07-22T12:04:00.003+03:00

Things are looking up .. and are improving dramatically. I think it is finally dawning upon me that my return to my Wonderland is not only real, but permanent; that the next time I pack a bag, it will be for a short trip to somewhere nice on holiday, or for a business trip or whatever reason people travel for.

And to rub it in some more, I have actually managed to unpack my bags and placed my spoils of shopping in cupboards; and have gone furniture shopping and bought yet another huge closet to fit the rest.

In the meantime, my better half has bought me a little car, which I managed to lose in a huge car park in one of the new developments, where I went for a job interview. Yes, I am looking for a job now that I am back and seeing what options are available for someone of my calibre in such a volatile market makes absolute sense.

That's all from me. And I found my car. Thanks for asking!

Not Embracing Change

2009-07-19T10:12:00.004+03:00

Teething problems we all know about but how long does it really take for teeth to grow and problems with gums and molars to go away?

I have been contemplating teething problems for a while now. In fact, it's been a few years. But years now move at the speed of light, so before you know it, it's time up and someone else's turn to take command of the joystick.

What I haven't given much thought to is the reason for all those teething problems and the answer could be that perhaps maybe somewhere inside me is a reluctant shy little girl who refuses to grow up, let go of dreams and accept life for all its wrongs and injustices and just go with the iffing flow.

And until I am ready to let go or rather until I actually let go, stomach up courage and go on that monstrous roller coaster (doesn't matter if I get nightmares at night or vomit in private after the ride), I will continue to be a mere by stander with a difference - someone who has always done exactly what I wanted even when forced to obey others instructions and see them smile stupidly at themselves, smug in their knowledge that the mission has been accomplished.

Only in the Kingdom of Bahrain

2009-07-14T11:12:00.005+03:00

Sat in the Kingdom of Bahrain, trying to surf the Internet. I must be out of my mind right? Of course I am.

My friends have sent me a link to a site which makes T-shirts, asking me what I think of the T-shirts which promote love, friendship and goodwill. Certainly this must be a legitimate cause anywhere else in the world, but not in my Kingdom of Bahrain. Someone with a brain the size of a bird must have decided that websites which sell T-shirts are against the laws of the Kingdom of Bahrain and its Constitution, and that I, a subject of the Kingdom of Bahrain, shall refrain from accessing any sites of such nature until further notice.

So my dear friends around the world, please note that I am no longer in a place where I decide which sites to access and which I should not, for I am no longer a human being with the right to self-determination. I totally realise that accessing a site is no big deal. I know I can continue living without having to see a site which produces and sells T-shirts online. I am sane enough to know that I have lived all my life not missing out on things because the T-shirt site is blocked in my country. This is not why I am annoyed. I am annoyed because I am now a subject and no longer a human being in my home country, that I am someone who has draconian rules shoved down my throat from the minute I wake up to the minute I knock myself off to sleep and accessing this T-shirt site is only one hurdle I had to cross today.

Who decides why I can or cannot access my T-shirt site and why? And who determines what information I can access and what I can't and why? And who is the dodo who still doesn't know that every roadblock now has an eight-lane tunnel dug under it, where those surfing the Internet are not only breaking the speed limit without concern for your blocks but are also doing doughnuts in broad daylight?

And then you read in the papers.. but that is another story for another day.

Coming Home to a Sick Place

2009-07-05T19:06:00.009+03:00

I am back in Bahrain and not so really back as being back here needs a certain state of mind which I am too busy and tired at present to stoop down to. I don't mean this in a condescending manner at all, for my love to this place and its people (at least the decent ones who aren't stupid) is unmatched and hasn't changed and never will.

Reality of how mad this place has become smacks you in the face the second you land at the Bahrain International Airport and see all the ground staff wearing surgical masks, from the ground handling staff to the immigration and customs officers. "What's wrong with you?" I ask them. "Is there a plague in Bahrain?" I continue questioning. "Is it that bad down there? Do you have masks for my husband and I too or should we subject ourselves to whatever diseases you are carrying?" I plead, all the time all the people I ask continue to laugh and ignore my questions.

I seriously wasn't trying to be funny as the situation seemed tense and and the level of swine madness was certainly the highest I have come across everywhere I have travelled through since pig mania gripped Planet Earth. Why wasn't there a single person wearing a mask at the airports of San Francisco, Chicago, Toronto and Heathrow which I have travelled through over the past few weeks?

People I spoke to all reassure me it is part of the government's measures to ensure that the disease doesn't spread in Bahrain, which is really a noble task I whole-heartedly appreciate and support. Thank you government for protecting us from Swine flu, for censoring the Internet, for telling us what to read and what not to read, what to think and what not to think, what to believe in and what not to believe in and what is right and what is wrong. Without your benevolent wisdom and gracious directions, we the little subjects wouldn't know what to do, or think or behave or believe in. Without your kindness and charity, we wouldn't have homes, or cars, or electricity, or running water, or sewerage, or roads, even those which take forever and ever to build, or the Internet, even that which is censored and slow and sluggish.

And no. I don't see the glass half empty. I see no glass. It has been stolen and I am now investigating who stole it while I was away. And of course, I will grumble and grumble and grumble. And this is the first take.

The Packing Saga Continues

2009-06-01T19:48:00.003+03:00

The boxes have all decided to huddle up in a corner. And I am keeping to mine. I don't know how long this stand off will continue for, but I know it can't last for ever. One of us will cave in. Either the boxes will fill themselves, or I will take action into my own hands and do that silly chore for them. After all I am a capable human being, born to be a manager, a visionary rather - who sits back and issues orders veiled as suggestions and requests, of course.

My biggest dilemma is not packing - but rather what to take with me and what to leave behind. I fully understand that things are things are things. Just things. But all those things have sentimental value to me. As a self-confessed shopaholic, with a social consciousness, I have taken it upon myself to keep the economies of the countries I have been through going, and the catalogue of damage is evident in the junk I have amassed. True, I have ferried a lot of the spoils of those indulgences back to the homeland, with every trip back to Bahrain and as a result I have rooms full of my 'stuff' in three different homes in Bahrain waiting for me to uncover what I have hidden in them.

But you know as much as I do that whatever goes into boxes will remain there forever after, or until the things decide to come to life and reach out of their boxes.

Sigh! And I thought I had a frugal existence here. If that was the case what are those closets full of? Call them stuff, rubbish or junk, deciding what to do or not do with them is proving to be extremely difficult.

Help!

انفلونزا الخنازير حلال أو حرام؟؟؟

2009-05-27T23:08:00.001+03:00

اذا الخنزير حرام وانفلونزا الخنازير تنتقل من الخنزير إلى الإنسان، فهل انفلونزا الخنازير حرام أم حلال؟؟
هذا سؤال شرعي وباللغة العربية علشان اللي ما يفهمون عربي ما يضحكون علينة!!!!

Packing ...

2009-05-27T20:11:00.002+03:00

So sorry my last post was "deep"-ressing .. Was up to my usual antics and firing off in all directions, with each line of that post dedicated to a different person. Had so much time on my hands, you see.

Anyway, after my stint on the sofa, my neck and the sofa along with the left side of my lower back decided to get into a squabble. I tried to mediate and tell them each to get a life, but they continued to argue until I had to forcefully separate them. So now the sofa is left all alone in the living room, with the boxes, which have also developed a life of their own and creating mischief. Let's see if the sofa is able to do all that work on its own. Me, my neck and back will stay here in the safety of my study until my better half is home to deal with this domestic dispute. Meanwhile, the sofa decided on confiscate the remote control and TV too. Damn. What am I gonna do with the rest of my day?

To add insult to injury it's cloudy and going to rain. I cut a deal with someone yesterday that if he manages to make the shisha work, and let me have as many puffs as I want, I will give him the shisha, plus a year's supply of tobacco in return. It is one of several shisha kits I brought with me when I came to Canada to create a Middle Eastern ambiance in this forsaken land. Needless to say, I wasn't able to operate the damned piece of machinery. And with the weather not behaving itself today, I think I am stuck indoors with my shisha and tobacco and the fire alarm. Not that I will attempt to ignite the shisha indoors. I am not desperate. It has been sat in its corner for four years and we have both not complained.

The fire alarm and I don't get along too. Every time I operate the piece of equipment better known as an oven in some parts of the civilised world, the alarm goes off. I really don't have the patience for screamers. So every time it starts yelling, like a prostitute who hasn't been paid after the lamest sex ever, I just walk away from it. Screamers realise that they are wasting their breath when you ignore them and eventually shut up. And my manners don't allow me to stoop that low and engage with noise makers whose only mandate in life is to draw attention to themselves.

And then what's with prostitutes and all this discrimination against them. Like, if men weren't so needy and grubby, there wouldn't be prostitutes right? But this isn't the time for talking about prostitutes and men. I have work to do, and packing and boxes. And no time. Remember how my time is up. So up in fact that it is dragging me down.

So the boxes are here and you would think it's easy to find manageable boxes right? Wrong. The only decent boxes you can find here are the ones you purchase from UHaul. I tried to skimp and look for boxes at supermarkets, which only had the open banana boxes - the ones with bananas drawn all around, holes and an open top. Not being a monkey, I decided to dish out some hard earned cash on boxes. That is - to date - the most ridiculous purchase I have completed in my life. And don't you get any weird ideas as my relationship with money is that of a fool. No matter what we do, we are soon parted. But money isn't the issue. It never is. Seriously.

Back to the boxes, I bought, with actual money. I get the biggest boxes and decide that they will become the temporary home of all our books. And we do consume books. Books. Dangerous collections of words. Words. Lethal combinations of letters. Letters. Those come in consonants and vowels. And I can go on till morning if you insist. It is only time that I am burning. Time and, as an after thought, life. Not too sure on that last bit though. But this isn't our issue today.

Back to the boxes. Which are stacked with books. Which have become stubborn and refuse to move. The boxes I mean. I can't even slide the full ones to the other end of the room. After all that back bending treacherous manipulation of space, they simply refuse to cooperate. I even arranged the books in order, by genre, with the one dealing with medicine in one box, and the ones dealing with life and love in the other. Funny how medicine and live and love can't exist in one box? Again, I am drifting and this again isn't the issue or focus of this post. Seriously.

Back to the boxes and the domestic drama. So the sofa attacks my neck and back and the boxes and books gang up against me. And the real estate agent is calling and he wants me to move my stuff so that he can show the place. And I too want the stuff to move but it isn't.

Sigh! What have I done so wrong in my life to deserve this?

Tick Tock. Your time is up!

2009-05-25T20:41:00.004+03:00

tick tock

Someone, anyone, please tell that demented clock that time has no essence to me, at least not now. Not today, not over the previous four years, and specifically all the years before that. Nor will it mean anything to me tomorrow, or, for that matter, yesterday.

It is just time. A clock with nothing better to do than tick. Tick all you want, for we live in two different worlds. You calculate yours, while I .. I don't know what to say now .. while I do whatever I want with mine, I suppose. I set my own rules and deadlines, I work at whatever pace I want and should I decide to sit doing nothing watching you waste your minutes and hours away, there is no one and nothing to stop me. Does this make any sense?

I know. I am all over the place and time zones. But: Time. Means. Nothing. It is just a waste. Time waiting to be spent. It's morning, then afternoon, then night, then morning again. Talk about boredom and not having anything better to do. Like those people with children. They sleep to wake up to eat to puke to shit to be washed to sleep again to wake up to eat and throw up and shit some more, then get washed to sleep again ... you get the picture right? Oh the monotony! I am already yawning.

I really seriously did yawn and stretch and am thinking of just curling on the sofa for the rest of the day and possibly staying there until the weekend. Or I could continue sitting in this comatose position, typing with one or sometimes two fingers, just like I have been doing for the good part of four years (The rest of the time I was doing other things, like curling on the sofa, watching TV, playing games on the computer, Xbox and Wii, and when I am hungry or am in a creative mood, I would cook. I do have a life, in case you are wondering).

When I moved here, I had grand schemes. They were just plans. None of them saw light - but that isn't the point. I was so keen to get out of the hellhole I buried myself into in Bahrain, which included cramming everything and doing all that I could sandwich in every 24 hours of every day. I thought I would relax for a few days or a few weeks - two months at most - to find my bearings and then leap into action. My plans for my time here included so many things, things I can still do if I really want to, but which I don't know how I feel about anymore. Among them were: writing a book, doing a PhD and having a baby. I also told myself that I would grab time by its horns, and not let it defeat me; that I would invest my time and make the most of it; that I would be productive and useful, enterprising and successful.

And successful I was, in watching every year, month, day, hour, minute and second of that time squandered. Almost all of it. I worked to the minimum of my capacity. I sat on my own. I lied to myself and said I was taking a break after a busy life in Bahrain. My excuse was that Canada is boring and there is nothing to do here; that all my friends and family are in Bahrain, where I will be returning and as such didn't need any more friends. Almost four years, in a self-exile, with friends and family and everything meaning anything to me in Bahrain. And I alone here. I mean, I do have friends here of course - a former Bahrain couple whom I see once every few months, my landlady, whom I also see once every few months, and, of course, my husband, whom I see every day.

And more successful I was in making this time pass - all 24 hours of everyday. At first it was exciting: I have the whole day to myself. For the second time in my existence, as the eldest child of seven, I am all alone in this world (I must admit that the first stint, more than 30 something years ago, lasted two years until my sister was born). Then it became depressing. Can I type that word again with a Capital D please? Depressing. Now can I type it again in ALL CAPS. Please? DEPRESSING. Then I got to grips with it. Time. And we learned to co-exist. I learned to slow down and it learned to speed up. So I have to cook dinner right? But it's 10am. And we have dinner at 7pm. So I learned to spend all the time between 10am and 6pm, thinking about what dinner should be. And then the next hour is spent preparing it. How's that for a plan?

And now that I am so successful in pacing myself and know exactly how to manage my life and affairs properly and successfully, time rears it's ugly head and announces: "Your time is up!"

After all my patience, after sitting on you for four years, almost, is this how you repay me? You tell me, that I have pack, even the things I have never got around to unpacking, and return to Bahrain where tick tock will take a whole new life of its own and where I cannot remain a silent depressed bystander watching you and me go to waste every single day anymore?

Seriously, go get a life. And read that ethics book while you are at it. You have been unfair to me, when I have given you all the chances and time in the world. I waited for 2006 to turn to 2007 to turn to 2008 and it's now 2009 and I finally slowed down to accommodate you - and now you are asking me to speed up and pack and return to the rat race? You certainly have issues and I have a sofa waiting for me.

I know I have to pack. But it's a holiday in the US today and there's always tomorrow. And if tomorrow is wasted, there is the day after. And if that too goes without me realising how it went up in smoke, there is the day after it. It is not like I am leaving today, is it?

You Too Can Support Free Speech ..

2009-05-18T23:35:00.003+03:00

As many of you know, I have been involved with a project very special to my heart for sometime now. Global Voices Online is a unique project which gives bloggers a voice and helps echoes their writings across language and cultural barriers to an international audience. The entire project is run by volunteers from around the world, who link to, translate, summarise and comment on citizen media output.

Global Voices Advocacy is an integral part of this mammoth project. Its aim is to support freedom of expression, fight and expose censorship and rally for jailed and harassed citizen journalists and highlight their plights, where ever such injustices take place.

This is why I am voting for Global Voices Advocacy (GVA) in Zemanta's "blog for for a cause"

initiative. All that people should do to cast a vote is write a post on their blogs saying that they are supporting Global Voices Advocacy and paste this text in their posts, just like I am doing now:

This blog post is part of Zemanta's "<a href="http://www.zemanta.com/bloggingforacause/">Blogging For a Cause</a>" campaign to raise awareness and funds for worthy causes that bloggers care about.

The prize up for grabs is $3,000 - not a huge amount but certainly one which can make a difference in helping GVA cover some costs and continue to defend free speech around the world.

If you too support free speech and have a blog, please post a similar message. It takes less than five minutes and next time a blogger is arrested, you know who to turn to. This campaign ends on June 6, so hurry up!

You Kiddin?

2009-05-13T17:10:00.003+03:00

Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights:

Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to
hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive, and impart information and ideas
through any media regardless of frontiers.

Someone, anyone, please tell me this a cruel joke and a figment of my imagination? Please.

I am confused. Very confused. Extremely confused. Too much confused. Confused in all the superlatives possible and allow me to explain why.

Out of the world's 10 worst online oppressors, five are in the Middle East and North Africa (Mena region). Bloggers are most at risk in Egypt, Syria, Iran, Saudi Arabia and Tunisia, according to the Committee to Protect Journalists in its report The 10 worst places to be a blogger.

According to the same organisation, 2009 "marks the first time the number of jailed online writers surpasses the number of detained print journalists." Out of the 125 journalists currently imprisoned around the world, 56 are web-based journalists and writers.

Radio and TV stations in our part of the world have always been government controlled. Newspapers are censored and self-censored and don't even go there, for I have been on that side of the fence and have professionally used my delete button to wipe out all forms of dissidence, especially those uttered by the disenchanted in my society. Come the Internet, and overnight everyone and anyone can talk, discuss and communicate with the rest of the world, without having his/her thought rubber stamped by governments for approval. With blogs, activists and people whose only chore in life is to tell us what their cats have been up to, can publish articles, posts photographs, shoot and beam videos and record podcasts and spread them on the www with the click of a button.

This new 'threat' which exposed corruption and police brutality, human rights issues and social taboos normally swept under the carpet, became public enemy number one. As a result, blogs, websites and online forums are routinely filtered and bloggers and online forum admins and writers are harassed and jailed.

Here's a brief outline of what I am tempted to call The Wall of Shame, which I swear took me less than 15 minutes of Googling:

Bahrain: A self-declared democracy, which actively censors the Internet and where even the Bahrain blog aggregator is blocked. Most popular Arabic online forum www.bahrainonline.org blocked for years, and its three administrators jailed for two weeks in 2005 for anti-government comments posted by readers. And new laws are coming into place to further monitor and censor free speech.

Saudi Arabia: Named as an enemy of the Internet. Actively censors the Internet, without masking it; bloggers and journalists jailed without access to a fair trial. Latest most publicized case involved Fuad Al Farhan, who was jailed from December 10, 2007 to April 26, 2008, and is now banned from travelling outside the kingdom for posts published on his blog in support of Saudi political and human rights reformers. Early this year, reports surfaced on the arrest of 28-year-old blogger Hamoud Bin Saleh. His blog Masihi Saudi (A Saudi Christian) was also, naturally, blocked. At one point, Saudi Arabia even blocked blogger.com but backed off after an outcry.

Kuwait: Though more open, compared to the rest of the region, blogger Bashar Al Sayegh, was arrested for comments published by an anonymous commenter on his online forum in 2007, sending shockwaves across the citizen media sphere.

Qatar: Blocks sites, such as social networking site Tagged.com

UAE: Filters the Internet, Flickr blocked, talk of YouTube and Twitter may be blocked as well. Oh right, and you are not allowed to even go anywhere near the economic crisis, lest it becomes a reality.. God forbid.

Oman: Although it doesn't make the headlines, online forum admins and bloggers are in danger if they cross the line, or criticise the government or government-owned businesses. Article 61 of the Telecom Law makes owners and moderators of websites responsible for the content published on their sites, and Ali Al Zuwaidi from Sablat Oman is standing trial based on this law.

Yemen: Reports continue on increasing intimidation targeting bloggers and online journalists, the latest is a death threat from the security apparatus against the editor of online news website Akhbar Alasr editor Mohammed Al Jabali. The site has also been hacked. This scenario has been recurring with an alarming frequency. Oh this was so last week. New reports from Yemen are even more damning: One Internet writer was just arrested - and another one SHOT (source)

Egypt: An enemy of the Internet. Probably makes the most headlines because of the number and frequency in which bloggers are arrested (I have seriously lost count of how many bloggers have been arrested and why and so has everyone else), in addition to the creativity and the way bloggers are using the Internet to push their messages. The catch with Egypt is that many bloggers double as activists, and are arrested because of their activism. However, Egypt doesn't filter the net .. Spoke too fast. Following a new court order, Egyptians will no longer be able to access porn sites.

Turkey: Turkish courts order the filtering of sites, following complaints lodged against material deemed offensive. As a result: Blogger.com, WordPress, YouTube, Slide and DailyMotion, are all blocked there. Anyone from Turkey please tell me what you can really access there?

Tunisia: An Enemy of the Internet. All Internet cafes are state-controlled. Bloggers harassed and jailed. Websites and blogs are filtered with surgical precision. Censors and citizen journalists play a cat and mouse chase, with the former blocking all sites and mirror sites launched by the bloggers. Political sites are also becoming a primary target for hackers. In September, Tunisia lifted a ban on YouTube and Dailymotion

Libya: The Libyan Constitution guarantees freedom of expression but "within the limits of public interest and the principles of the revolution". However, Article no.178 of Law no.71/1972 stipulates that who publish any information which defames the country or undermines confidence in it abroad, shall be sentenced to life imprisonment. Both journalists and bloggers harassed and arrested. It is no surprise that Libya is ranked 190, out of 195 countries, in Freedom House's Freedom of the Press index.

Syria: An enemy of the Internet. Once described by Reporters without Borders as the Middle East's biggest prison for cyber-dissidents. Access to Arabic opposition sites and Syria's Kurdish minority blocked. Facebook blocked.

Iran: Enemy of the Internet. Journalists and bloggers have a target on their backs in Iran. Last year, Iran arrested Hossein Derakhshan, aka Hoder. Earlier this year, blogger Omid Reza Mir Sayafi died in prison, "under circumstances that have not been fully explained."

This Wall of Shame is by no means complete and is not even the tip of the iceberg. And then you wonder why I am confused?

We the Gulf Arabs

2009-05-11T19:44:00.002+03:00

A Sameer has emailed me this.. and I don't know how to respond to him because replying to his hate and bias towards Gulf Arabs is beneath me. Also, I wrote my feelings and the way I felt after I was lied to by Air Canada staff and ridiculed by the TSA people, raising a legitimate objection to why I find being called "secondary" - which I am not - derogatory.

As I said before and will repeat again: I am willing to voluntarily go thru secondary and more inspections at each and every border I cross provided I fully understand and am told directly that I am being subjected to this special treatment because I am an Arab and Muslim, and am being prejudiced against and automatically placed in a 'suspect' category because of that. I don't have a criminal record, follow the rules and feel deeply insulted when lied to, ridiculed and called 'secondary.' Also, if having any pride and dignity is a Gulf Arab trait, than I am proud of all the Gulf Arabs from Kuwait, to Saudi Arabia, Bahrain to Oman, Qatar to the United ARab Emirates, who object to being rubberstamped as terrorists wherever we go and travel.

And NO thanks, I will not stop travelling because the world is my stage, and I go and come as I please, as a law abiding citizen, but will not tolerate being called 'secondary' or ridiculed or stereotyped or prejudiced against and also lied to.

Here's his email, which starts with a lie, accusing me of posting my blog entries on Global Voices, which I did not:

Name: sameer

Email: (I removed it out of courtesy - to someone who has no manners)

Message:

i read your post on global voices about your so called 'horrific' and 'humiliating' treatment by air canada---with all due respect, now you arrogant gulf arabs understand how it feels to be treated like shit---i have been to your country as well as other gulf countries, and have seen firsthand how third world nationals are treated much much more worse than you were. i live here in the US and travel a lot, both domestically and internationally, and unless you are totally oblivious to security precautions in place after 9/11, we both know well that there is a chance that you can get selected for secondary inspection. after all, many americans faced arab terrorism on 9/11 and it is obvious and of common sense, that people of arab ethniticity and muslim religion (that includes me)can possibly face secondary inspection. i personally dont like it any more than you, but its a price that i and other muslims have to pay thanks to the arab terrorists dispatched to america who sowed death and destruction here. and then you say that you were crying---o plz save those crocodile tears, it aint that you were stripped naked in front of anyone, just normal seconday inspection so why so much moaning and bitching??!! you know what the rules are, and if you didnt like them, then who put a gun to your head and forced you to stay in america and canada??!! DONT COME TO AMERICA AND CANADA IF YOU DONT LIKE THE RULES OK. after all, thats what you say to third world nationals when they complain of maltreatment, dont you??!!

p.s.=in the last four yrs of travelling i havenot been told to come for secondary inspection except once last year while visiting canada from atlanta. and while it was a bit inconvenient, but it wasnt humiliating at all and also selected were a couple of white north americans just for your kind information!!:)

My Great Adventure in Sunnyvale

2009-05-09T17:47:00.003+03:00

Away from the doom and gloom of travelling, allow me to share with you what I have done in Sunnyvale, home of Silicon Valley's innovation, the hotbed of many of toys we use to flex our finger muscles and make our words scream out, loud and clear, day in, day out.

Words have power, the power to land you in a cell, with no Internet connection. If slow Internet is torture for us, imagine how life would be in a cubic metre cell, swarming with creepy crawlies, in one of those countries which so abhor free discourse, no matter how silly or frivolous it may be.

And to protect you from the power of your words and the sudden rushes of courage which sometimes overcome you when you envision yourself as a keyboard warrior, tapping away word after word, and with the click of a button, and in stark disregard to the laws of repression in your countries, demand an audience and a readership, I, singlehandedly have come up with a way to save you from your worrisome thoughts and the trouble you can land yourself in, wittingly or unwittingly.

I was in Sunnyvale to sign a contract for my new breed of computers, which will be rolling off the production lines soon. And I have also clinched a few deals, with so many countries queuing up for my marvel, which will of course make me a billionaire overnight, thanks to my vision and farsightedness. In what is now being described by netizens across the repressed world as a stroke of genius, I, Silly Bahraini Girl, have once again used my two brain cells to put one and one together, and come up with the winning solution - a solution which will make me rich and make you safe.

So, what's so special about my new computer. Without further rambling, here are some of its features:

1. My new computer saves and automatically and voluntarily saves all your online activities, and sends them to the concerned authorities in your home country for pre-approval before you are able to click send. This includes your emails, blog posts, Facebook status entries, Tweets, etc. Once your nonsense gets approved, the government kindly and thankfully posts it online on your behalf.

2. My new computer is Halal. It is Islamically sanctioned and is available for Muslims only and this is why:

a. Women are not allowed to use it without the presence of a male chaperone

b. It automatically shuts down five times a day for prayer break

c. It automatically blocks you from accessing porn, music or pictures of scantly-clad women, or men, or anything living for that matter.

d. If you dare bypass the proxy on those sites, it reports you to the authorities

And .. I am sorry I have to cut short this post as it has started raining ... bummmmer ... (Oh yes, my computer locks off if you type any profanities) .. and I hate the dark and gloom .. and damn it ... all my plans for this super duper weekend are ruined.

Plans for a BBQ, my foot!!

Air Canada replies

2009-05-07T18:31:00.002+03:00

...saying:

Thank you for your email. We appreciate the time you have taken to write to us and are pleased to address your concerns. On behalf of Air Canada, I offer my sincere apologies for the inconvenience that you experienced.

Due to world events, regulatory bodies require airlines to submit passengers to additional security measures such as identification validation, secondary searches or interviews by law enforcement personnel prior to boarding. While some of these actions are random in nature, compliance is mandatory. Air Canada does not handle the security screening, that is done by the Airport Authority.

While we understand that these additional precautions may be inconvenient and time-consuming, we trust you will appreciate that your safety and security are our top priority.

Thank you for choosing Air Canada. We look forward to the opportunity of welcoming you onboard in the near future.

Sincerely,

Eric Smith
Customer Relations

My response:

Random MY FOOT. It is a lost cause. Law abiding citizens, like me, are picked on by #$#%s and ridiculed for fun. Let's play the Spot the Arab game, and subject them to humiliation, make them walk barefooted across the airport in front of the rest of the paranoid passengers, mess up their immaculately packed carry on wearing DIRTY gloves used to go through other suspicious passengers personal belongings, spreading nastiness and germs in the process, and then camouflage it all as RANDOM.

Stop it please. Stop insulting our intelligence. I don't mind that being the price to pay every time I travel provided I am told the truth: You have been selected for being paraded as a security threat because you are:

1. Arab

2. Muslim

3. Traveling alone

4. We just want to pick on you for fun

Tell me it is racial profiling and I swear I will be happy with it and will step aside for extra screening every time I cross a border - any border - voluntarily.

Lest I ever forget

2009-05-07T05:45:00.002+03:00

(typed this quickly on the plane)

27 minutes left before my battery dies. Typing from seat 25A. A Portuguese couple dozing off next to me in seats 25B and 25C. So I can’t possibly move, and then rummage through my carry on for the computer charger. But I can certainly ask one of the Air Canada crew to do so, and I don’t really mind them going through my personal belongings, after everyone else has - especially those two women wearing the dirty blue gloves, which they use to go through the belongings of all the other suspect passengers as well.

And while I don’t mind Air Canada crew going through my personal belongings, I do mind when they rat me out and single me out for further screening, in a humiliating manner at the hands of people who are not trained in the ABCs of humanly treating other human beings - human beings with feelings, pride and dignity.

I also mind, and mind a lot when Air Canada staff, lie to me and take me for a fool. Of course you all know I went back to the counter, and asked the question: Did Air Canada single me out or did the San Francisco Airport security lie? If Air Canada did single me out, for the special treatment, did they approve of having their paying customers being called “secondary”? And if they do approve of that, on what grounds did they single me out?

So check-in lady at the gate shrugs off my questions and says that they go through it too. I ask her if she accepts being called secondary and she points out to me that secondary means that the person needed to go through special screening. Special? WIthout thinking too much about it, I asked her why they didn’t call us “Special” then when dishing us out with this special treatment, parading us through an airport full of paranoid passengers barefooted? She should have seen the freaked out glances I got from the freaky looking geriatrics. Special indeed. And the dirty gloves and swine flu? And NO, I am not being a drama queen because I am not.

But that isn’t my issue. My issue was getting to the truth. Did Air Canada rat me, as a customer out, as a risky passenger, who needed extra special screening? And if so, why? Why did they sell me a ticket and collect its money and then elect to humiliate people and parade me in public as some secondary human being?

So I ask the gate check-in counter lady and she calls her boss, who explains to me that it is fine and that everyone goes through it. I ask him if he accepts being called secondary and he starts playing around with words, turning each and every single word around. Dude. That is my game and you can’t beat me in it. I am the master of turning words around and not you. So stop insulting my intelligence some more please.

The bottomline is that they tell me that out of every flight, 15-16 passengers are randomly picked for screening. “Is it Air Canada or the Americans who pick the 15-16 passengers for the special treatment and on what grounds?” I ask. Here they continue turning words around and speaking in mambo jumbo, words which did not do anything to soothe my bruised ego and bloodied pride. Words which did not rung true. I just wanted some compassion and someone to tell me: "Yes, we do practice racial profiling and that you were singled out for being an Arab Muslim, with Hussain in your surname. Grow up and live with it!"

Instead, pick it up with the TSA, they advice me. And you are right, we were just this morning discussing how they use the same gloves to go through everyone’s items, bags and personal belongings, they tell me. Ever heard of swine flu?

Fed up of word games, I excuse myself and stand in line to board the plane. They were just getting me more angry by giving me more information, which added insult to injury. And standing in that line hurt and the tears came rolling, first one, followed by the second and before I knew it, torrents of anguished tears streamed down my face, all the way down my chin, dripping on to my top, my lovely top which they don’t get anything like in the flea market shops they buy their secondhand clothes from. How low do I stoop patronising a company, whose employees not only ratted me out to the US goons as a threat to the US national security, knowing exactly that I would be called secondary and have my personal belongings rummaged through by someone wearing a glove she used to go through another suspect’s dirty underwear BUT also lied to me and insulted my intelligence?

But it was either that line of humiliation, using an airline whose staff ratted on me, for no reason other than I am Arab and Muslim, and then had another bunch of staff play word games on me and tell me that it was OK and normal to be called secondary, while confirming that the airport security were going through my personal belongings wearing dirty gloves at the height of swine flu fever, or staying at an airport where I am considered a threat to its national security. Me. A threat? Haven''t those dudes ever heard of Google? Google me and you will realise you are harassing the wrong person: And for your information: I am NOT secondary. Never was. And never will be.

Air Canada Singles me out for special treatment at San Francisco Airport

2009-05-06T20:34:00.003+03:00

No, they did not upgrade me. The woman at the check in counter stamped SSSS in bright pink on my boarding pass, which meant that I had to go through extra screening. It is all fine and dandy if everyone had to go through it and it was the norm or if people going thru the humiliation weren't called Secondary and paraded in front of all the other normal passengers, singled out, humiliated and mocked at by security personnel, whose ABC of public manners leave a lot open for questions.

I know how sad it must be for them to go through people's personal items and dirty underwear, and carry our shoes for us from one place to the other, while we are being paraded bare-footed while they completed their search for the missing link in your carry ons.

But I don't understand why I am being singled out for this special treatment as I pass in and out of US airports and demand an explanation. And an explanation I hope to get:

Here's my email to the Air Canada customer service:

Dear Customer Service People,

I have just gone through the most humiliating experience in my life ever - and singled out for extra screening, called a secondary and laughed, ridiculed and mocked at the San Francisco Airport, because the Air Canada staff at the check in counter singled me out for extra screening. I would like to know why? And I would like to know whether my ethnicity, race and colour had anything to do with it? I demand a full explanation please.

Their website says to give them five days to respond. Let's keep counting folks!

I have twittered my experience at @JustAmira

Bahrainblogs.org Blocked by the Ministry of Information

2009-04-21T17:28:00.007+03:00

Bahrainblogs.org, the aggregator which brings together Bahraini blogs under one roof, is the latest victim of the Ministry of Information's vicious attack on the Internet and closing up all venues of free expression which they cannot control.

Am I outraged? No. Not anymore. You want to play that game? Fine. Go for it. But before you continue with this child play, please remember that efforts to fight filtering and censorship are a step ahead in the game. Anything you censor and block, can be opened and read, circulated and spread, with or without your blessings. And this isn't a challenge. This is common sense: You have chosen to hide something. You have elected to cover it with a shroud - and it is something which isn't dead. It will struggle to break free from the shackles and people will be curious to see what is it exactly that you are trying to hide. Never mind not many will ask why, because why isn't a question we are allowed to ask, given all the freedoms we enjoy. Besides, we don't deserve an explanation. Never have. Never will.

Now that you have blocked Bahrainblogs.org, a service run by a blogger, paid for from his own pocket, effort and time, to create a one-stop shop for all Bahraini blogs, do you think you have stopped the rest of the world, or people from Bahrain for that matter, from accessing this site?

Thank you Ministry of Information for the free publicity that Bahrainblogs.com will now get around the world! You just made my day!

R.I.P. Patience

2009-04-20T20:20:00.001+03:00

Patience, once a virtue, is now a sign of hesitation, meekness and weakness.

Sigh!

Male only hangers

2009-04-15T20:47:00.003+03:00

Only in Saudi Arabia ...

My friend from Bahrain was in Saudi Arabia for a business meeting. She flies to Riyadh. Checks into a fancy hotel, and goes to her room.

She opens her suitcase, gets out her clothes, and proceeds to the cupboard, to naturally hang her clothes. You don't want to wear a creased suit when you are attending a business meeting, even when it is covered with the abaya (black cloak) and shayleh (head scarf).

... so she proceeds to hang her clothes. Imagine her shock and confusion when she opens the cupboard and gets out the hangers and see the STICKERS on them: "Hanger for MEN" and "Hanger for WOMEN!"

Knowing my friend, I knew that she broke the law and used the MEN's hanger to hang her clothes. My question is: WHY are there different hangers? What is the aim ? What is the objective? Why are there men only and women only hangers? AND what is the penalty for hanging your clothes on the wrong hanger?

My friend has a prize for the most convincing answer!!

Globe trotting and silly

2009-04-15T19:18:00.004+03:00

Half the day is over, another half to go. Then sleep. Then wake up. Then start the cycle again.

And again, I am starting to get restless, like that hamster in the wheel in the cage; going round and round and round; toiling all day, and getting no where.

But that isn't entirely true. This year alone, and it's only April 15 today, I have crisscrossed the Atlantic several times. In fact, I have been home to Bahrain twice, and a third and a fourth trip are in the making - probably a fifth too, but that isn't until the end of the year - and the dynamics of the trip are likely to be different then as I will be making a trek from Bahrain, where I will hopefully be settled, to here ... Ok, enough blabbering about being cocooned - strapped to an airline seat, surrounded by people I don't even know - many without even the courtesy to greet me and smile. I mean, in our culture, we are taught, that when you enter a room full of people, you smile and greet them all. But our culture, traditions and teachings have no place in the real world, do they?

Again I am like Tarzan, jumping from one tree to the other when once, not so long ago, I was able to recollect my thoughts and string them neatly in a publishable article, starting with one explosive missile, sleekly moving on to the other, and finally culminating with a climax which still left some of my readers confused - those who didn't get the Cliff Notes to go with the article.

So where was I? I was in the cage on the wheel, going in circles, which isn't entirely true because I did go to places, crossing boundaries, and oceans, meeting people and speaking, listening and learning, and explaining to amused customs and immigration officers my circumstances, like this one:

London Heathrow officer 1: Why are you going to Canada?

Me: My husband is there.

LHO1: What does he do there?

Me: He's studying.

LHO1: What do you do there?

Me: I vacuum and clean, wash his dishes and do his laundry.

LHO1 shoots me a furious look.

What am I supposed to tell him? I am in Canada, after all, accompanying my better half. What do I do here? Fishing is by a permit. The weather is friggin' cold - even ducks migrate. Two blocks past the downtown mall is a no go zone, because of all the homeless people, the drug gangs and the stabbings and shootings - and my building is full of doctors, surgeons, filthy rich students, bankers and lawyers - so NO thanks - I would rather face my computer screen than hear them enjoying listening to their own voices.

So going back to my point, in four years, I have been reduced from a people's person - to an introvert, who prefers my own company and who is able to fill all hours of day and night, being content doing whatever I do alone. Little by little, I think I have also lost my patience for nonsense and being nice to stupid people.

Take this little retard who questioned me on my return from Frankfurt on my way to Toronto recently.

Frankfurt Officer: Do you have a valid visa to Canada?

Me: Yes -- showing him the Visa

FO: What do you do there?

Me: I am a journalist by profession but I am currently accompanying my husband in Canada.

FO: What does he do there?

Me: He's doing his PhD.

FO: What is he doing his PhD in?

Me: Health policy, research and economics ... erm ..

FO: What is it about?

Me: erm ... (my turn to shoot an angry look at an officer) ... Not entirely sure, but if you give me your email or address I can send you a summary and once he's done with his thesis, I can certainly forward it to you.

He gazes at me.

I gaze back at him. What am I supposed to do? What is his research in you moron?? Seriously?

FO: You can go through

Me: Thank you

As I pass, I turn around and see his neck going crimson red! I don't want to be in the place of the person standing behind me in the queue. He would probably ask her what her husband's favourite underwear colour is - if she is married and off to rejoin her husband in Toronto. How I wished he had asked me that!

But seriously, where do they pick those immigration and customs officers from? And why are men in uniform, everywhere, anywhere, so ... erm ... not-too-smart?

Thank You Interior Ministry!!

2009-04-08T22:57:00.003+03:00

According to today's Al Ayam, the Ministry of Interior successfully intercepted this wild animal, which has been terrorising the workers in a labourer's camp in Salmabad, and brought it to justice - oops - I mean handed it over to the wildlife authorities.

From this humble forum, I would like to express me heartfelt appreciation and gratitude to the ministry and all its personnel, for working round the clock to ensure the safety, security and stability of all the people of Bahrain, keeping us all out of harm's way and ensuring that terrorists are kept behind bars, where they belong.

As far as I know, this alien creature isn't a native, and I am so glad the Bahraini police is made up of foreigners, who have better experience in dealing with such predators.

Now that I am typing this, I know I can't stop, as I suffer from an acute case, commonly referred to in medical circles, as verbal diarrhoea or diarrhea - a condition whose spelling varies, depending on whether you consider yourself from a former British colony or a future American one.

Guess I will draw the line here - as I am running late on my appointment with my shrink.

off to germany

2009-03-31T16:31:00.003+03:00

It's that time of the month again, when I stand in front of an empty suitcase, not sure what to pack and what to leave behind. It is so cruel to keep human beings in such a position - too inhumane.

How can anyone pack all necessary belongings in a suitcase, which he should then be able to flog around, from one place to the other, all alone? Given my track record in losing bags (not me losing them, but the airlines insisting on separating us from each other for whatever reason), I know I should be travelling light, and packing all necessities in just ONE bag, preferably a carry on.

But that is not to be, not because I am a bad organiser, but because of airport security rules, which consider all liquids taboo - even perfume, contact solution, shampoo, shower gel and hair conditioner. All those should be bought again once I land somewhere, and thrown away after the duration of any trip. Someone is making a lot of money, and it sure isn't me.

All liquids should go in a small plastic bag, if I want to take them on board the plane. I am sure whoever devised this rule isn't a woman - for no woman can stuff all necessary liquids/gels in a small plastic bag - unless she is .. don't know .. not exactly a she.

So instead of getting off my behind and packing, I find myself faced with questions like: is a tweezer permissible on a flight or not? And if it isn't, should I pack my least favourite one, and surrender it to the pervert going through my stuff when asked to?

Sigh! If only life was less complicated, September 11 never took place and I don't have to apply for a Schengen Visa for every single trip to Europe. Did you know that? Every time I have to travel to Europe, I have to apply for a visa, which is granted for the exact number of days of my stay - not an hour more.

And what are our governments doing about that? Nothing. They still continue granting Europeans Visas at our airports, making them more and more welcome, with total disregard to our feelings, when we have to stand in queues, show bank statements and wait patiently for our passports to come back with the coveted visa and smile and say thank you when we get it.

I know, I should be packing and not stressing about this, but if I did that, I wouldn't be me and will be part of the herd, which I am not and refuse to be.

Sigh! Better pack ... or I won't be able to make it past the check ins.

See you in Frankfurt.

The sun is finally out ...

2009-03-29T23:40:00.002+03:00

.. here and it's time for me to get up and do some of the work I have been putting off until the sun comes out!!

What's ironic though is that it's raining in Bahrain!

Funny how things work in this life ;(

tis raining ...

2009-03-29T16:41:00.002+03:00

.. cats and dogs here.

Breakfast was a treat - a treat I treat myself to every morning, come rain or blizzard.

Massa just got booted out of the race. Funny how all of a sudden Bahrainis are hooked on watching F1?

And I am keeping my vow and blogging something, anything, at least once a day ;)

That's all for now.

sex and the city

2009-03-29T06:20:00.003+03:00

just watched sex and the city, the movie, and cried my eyes out.

guess it was pent up tears waiting to gush out and just needed an excuse.

i have been away from home for more than three years - three years away from a home i love and hate with passion.

i know home is where your loved ones are - and here i only have one - and my heart is aching because i miss each and every one of the loves left behind back home, especially the little ones who ask me every time i talk to them on the phone: "auntie, when are you coming home?"

my answer is "soon."

i now have a date and you better mark it on your calenders. i will be back soon. time flies. and the remaining few weeks will fly as well and before i know i will be back in my wonderland - the home i love and hate with passion.

see ya soon.

on a related note, i was chatting the other day to the godfather, and he says that people back home don't smile anymore. well you know what, you better smile and laugh - for he who laughs last laughs best!

Spew

2009-03-27T18:26:00.003+03:00

I think I will try and make it a point to spew something here, at least once a day.

I think.

But then thinking isn't something I want to concern myself with now. I have done a lot of thinking in my life for my age. Right?

But then there is the commitment bit.

Scary right?

It freaks me out as well.

But I also said TRY.

Can I at least get A for effort?

Don't bother. I always get straight As.

CHANGE

2009-03-26T20:02:00.002+03:00

Change is dying to embrace me, but I am not willing to embrace it back.

I don't want to give or take. I don't want to move. I don't want to change. But I am not happy with anything around me. And I am not willing to do anything about it. NOT yet.

There. I had to get it off my chest. And for the purpose of being completely frank, I have deleted the rest of this entry before clicking on publish because speaking the truth hurts a lot of people.

In the meanwhile, stress and rage are keeping me company. Tick tock tick tock ...

Welcomed in America

2009-02-25T17:52:00.003+03:00

Welcome to America, where I was whisked through security in less than two minutes flat:

Q: "Where are you off to?"

A: "Miami"

Q: "What will you do there?"

A: "Attend a conference with friends."

Q: "What do you do in Canada?"

A: "What can you do in Canada?"

Q: "eh?"

A: **shrug ..

No finger printing.. no picture taken .. no special treatment and waiting in that room with all the Muslim looking, Chinese, Latino, black and tatooed and ex-convict crowds.

Basically, no preferential treatment. Am I missing anything here? Is there really something called Hope? And should I too, a cynical skeptical creation of conspiracy theories, believe in Change in the US of A? No more racial profiling?

Not bitching here but for the first time since the sad events of Sept 11, I feel welcomed in the US .. Should I say: Thank you Obama?

You are committed to what ?

2009-02-11T23:57:00.001+03:00

So the Ministry of Information announces to Reuters that they are "committed to freedom of opinion and expression" but are seeking to "prevent their abuse."

Here's their sorry excuse, where they don't tell us how many sites have been censored but blame the sheer volume on a technicality:

In a written response to questions from Reuters, the Ministry of Information said it was committed to freedom of opinion and expression but seeks to prevent their abuse.

It did not say how many websites are blocked and did not comment on claims access to political forums is prevented.

It said some websites were blocked "as a result of technical mistakes" and it was looking into the use of more advanced technology to prevent those errors.

And in case you are wondering what their solution is to rectify this huge damage tarnishing the reputation of MY country, here's where you can see their sorry remedy: http://www.unblock.gov.bh/BlockUnblock/index.faces

So now they are protecting you poor children and shielding you from the dangers lurking out there but at the same time asking you to help them save face in front of the international community.

And what is the advanced technology which is helping you Ministry of Information and Censorship in avoiding such errors and major embarrassments in the future?

Instead of wasting money on filtering software from Websense and Smart Filter and treating us - subjects - as children, pour all this money into GOVERNMENT schools and education please. God know how much we need that because the last time I went through the list of Nobel laureates, I didn't see a single Bahraini.

If you really are concerned for children in my country, be open about issues like child abuse, which are hidden in folders gathering dust. Open the court files and let the world know what monstrous men do in the absence of a personal law and how Sharia courts deal with divorce cases and the extreme injustice those mothers and children face, the first for being women and the latter for being underage.

Sadly, in this country, all of us subjects are treated as YOUNG GIRLS. Thank you for ensuring that as a Bahraini, I will always remain young, at least in the eyes of the authorities.

Sign the Petition

2009-02-10T23:41:00.003+03:00

I'm really curious to know why only 420 people have signed this petition against Internet censorship in Bahrain.

Does this mean that the remainder of the population is in agreement with the draconian law which bans and blocks and censors access to information without a court order - at the whim of some little child who can rest his behind on a chair and tell us what we can and cannot access online?

Are they fine with the rest of the world laughing at our country at a day and age when you cannot block out the sun, cannot say no to free speech and cannot, under any circumstances, block access to information and censor the world wide web?

And while many of you say that such a petition is useless, in a democracy, which we were the last time I checked, petitions are a legitimate and civil means of protest.

By signing the petition, all you do really is clear your conscience and say no to another injustice being committed against you, in your name.

And for those who have told me about how afraid they are to sign this petition, which they insist is useless, because adding their name to the cause will be taken against them at some point, some day, I would like to give you all a big hug and tell you that darkness is spooky, but if you all join hands, and try to draw back the curtains in one big push - maybe you will still be able to let the sun rays in.

Don't let them block the sun. Don't let them terrorise you. You have the right to access information and they shouldn't be allowed to bully you.

And if it really is a law to protect us, then let them stand up and SHUT DOWN the entire Internet -- because we want it all, or nothing at all.

Two Dogs

2009-02-10T19:50:00.003+03:00

Looking out the window:

Two dogs chasing each other in the garden.

The little dog is chasing after the big one.

Stupid right?

How can a little dog dare run after a bigger one? And why is the bigger one allowing the little one terrorise it?

Something ain't right .. and no one is bothered to stop those two dogs from running around, question them and see once and for all why this imbalance of power exists.

Say NO to Internet Censorship

2009-02-06T23:16:00.002+03:00

Ever since realising that I will always be in LKG, never to be promoted to HKG, in my Wonderland, no matter what I do or who I become in life, I have decided to take things easy and sort of relax and let my silliness ooze out, drop by drop, a trickle at a time.

I would sometimes get angry no doubt .. but I would continue in my stride, knowing that nothing I think or hope for or aspire to do to usher in a real CHANGE would ever see the light of day - unless it was something silly, or stupid, or shallow - in keeping with traditions and maintaining the status quo in my Wonderland, of course.

The magic year 2002, signaled a lot of hope to many and I really am proud of myself for not dreaming and letting my stupid thoughts stray away - not one inch, not one centimeter, not one millimeter (hey .. don't push your luck... my math sucks and I can't think of a smaller measurement!)

I am proud to have envisioned, that in our little play group, things will continue to take one step forwards and a few backwards, no matter what grand announcements were made. And don't you ever forget that I was part of that history, and that my fingers typed away lie after lie and promise after promise, giving you one bold headline after the other of how beautiful our tomorrow would be. Poor children. Of course, I was lying and singing you a lullaby, waiting for you to start nodding your heads and hopefully slip away into a sleep you never wake up from. The problem is that you could only sleep in complete darkness, and those flickers of light (read hope) disrupted your sleep, and in your insomnia, you started to plot for grand schemes, ideas such as freedom, and liberty popped into your empty heads and sadistic thoughts inspired by democracy, the decadent West and its imperialistic dreams of destroying us all, to the last standing, sitting and sleeping Muslim Arab.

Dear children,

The time of dreams is over. Wake up and smell the tear gas! Invest in good running shoes and buy good quality helmets: the first will help run away from those monstrous crowds with batons and expired tear gas canisters, while the second will shield your eyes from the wrath of rubber bullets.

And if you have access to the Internet, please sign this petition here, before that too gets banned and your cries are subdued forever!

Sleep tight! You never know what tomorrow holds for you!

Bye Bye Wonderland

2009-01-31T08:48:00.002+03:00

In Doha, en route to Toronto.

Don't ask and I wont tell .. but you know that's only talk, as I will tell one way or another.

So I was invited to speak at some conference in Doha and well, with Doha being so close, I agreed to come to the talk, which was a total waste of time and effort, and then used the two brain cells remaining in my head and decided to spend some quality time at home, to recover from the stress of the talk, which was not to be. I mean, after two days in Doha, wouldn't you too need to come and relax in Bahrain?

Wouldn't you want to wake up in the morning and read the local papers, which don't tell you what is happening in your own country, to protect you and shield you from the sad realities of life?

Wouldn't you want to be pampered like a little child and told what to do and what to say and what to think and how to react and what to believe and how to apply your foundation and which colour blush suits your complexion better?

Wouldn't you too want to live in a safe environment where your brain is not cluttered with unnecessary information and where the government dictates what information you can and you can't access when surfing the Internet?

And who cares if you feel confused when you ask yourself silly questions like: What freedom? What democracy? as well as the worrisome question: What Reform?? when you know that in the eye of the delusional believers and creepy crawlers and liars and hypocrites and $%#&$#@* this amounts to treason.

Too many questions ... too little juice left in my laptop .. too long a way to Heathrow .. and then on to Toronto.

Dear Tear Gas,

2009-01-27T23:54:00.001+03:00

I have long missed how you smell like.
Thank God, I did tonight and my eyes are still burning me.
My nose is pricking me.
But this doesn't matter.

Dear Motherfuckers,

Unbeknown to you, I have been struggling with an eye infection since December 31. I had just left the eye doctor, whom I had paid for, and then bought medicine from the pharmacy, which I have also paid for.

The doctor said that my infection is stress induced. Now my eye is throbbing, and I can blame it on you. But you don't care ... do you?

Why Google Translate?

2009-01-25T17:12:00.004+03:00

Blocking porn. I understand.

Blocking hardcore sex. I understand.

Blocking gambling sites. I understand.

Shutting down www.bahrainonline.org. Never mind, people can still get in. In fact, now more people want to see what is going on in order to understand why these sites are being censored.

Shutting down all sites with proxy in the domain. Fine, people are still able to access all that they want.

But, for Abbas' sake, why did Google Translate give you an itch in your genitals?

Can someone explain for I fear what I don't understand.

The Shituation in Wonderland

2009-01-25T02:55:00.002+03:00

Of course I can access porn sites if I feel like it but not any of the Shia online forums, opposition websites or anything with the word proxy in its domain.

Why? Because my government cares for me. And because I should be proud to be a Bahraini. This isn't yet another move to curtail my freedom of expression as I am free to say and write what I want, not that anyone will listen to me. What I am not free to do is surf the Internet as I please, because I am a child in the eyes of the authorities - a child who should be told what I am allowed and not allowed to read.

And since no one is listening, I would like to thank the authorities for blocking access to all those websites and would like to request it to block access to the entire Internet as frankly, we have no use with it.

Ever since this Satanic invention has found its way into our lives, life has never been the same - at least for me. Now I can access information - any information at all - at the click of a button. Horror oh horror! You see why it isn't right to leave children with a box of matches - with written instructions on the side.

Who in the world can claim being a citizen under the wings of such a caring .. erm .. whatever!

ifff

2008-12-12T19:36:00.003+03:00

I am feeling hot and flustered - sick.

I am breaking into sweats; I'm in a trance; I don't know what to do or where to start doing what I am supposed to be doing; and to add insult to injury, I am going around myself in circles.

In short, I am doing exactly what I told myself weeks ago that I wouldn't be doing. And what am I doing now? Blogging about not being able to do what I told myself I would be doing a gazillion of times before - and I am not getting anything done.

I have six suitcases open across the apartment. I have a vacuum cleaner standing erect in the middle of the living room. Now if that vacuum cleaner had a spine, it would clean up the place and put all my stuff in the suitcases right? I also have to wash some clothes - I mean how bad would I look returning home, with a bagful of dirty clothes? And the dish washer is wide open, hitting me and bruising my legs every time I try to squeeze into the kitchen.

The limo is picking us up at 5pm - and that gives me five hours to clean, wash, shower, pack my bags, do some pending work, fix a quick lunch and set off on my long trek back to Wonderland.

And what am I doing now exactly again? Zilch. Nada. Nothing. Cypher. Zero. I am panicking. Big time. I am flustered and tired and fed up and have had it.

I just want to shut my eyes and feel the ground at the Bahrain International Airport. And then all these feelings will be bottled up for next time - and replaced with sheer anger, frustration of a different kind, and a feeling of loss at being in a place I love so much and feel so useless that I can't do anything constructive in.

Welcome home, I suppose.

GV on CNN

2008-11-29T19:10:00.003+03:00

Global Voices Online was splattered all over the news this week, thanks to the work of Neha Viswanathan & Co., who were able to bring us the reactions of real people, in real time, to the carnage taking place in Mumbai.

Thanks to Jules Rincon's super quick shutter speed, we even have a picture featuring a CNN anchor with a screen behind him showing GV's site.

Personally, I am dismayed at the apparent lack of interest among Middle Eastern bloggers - many of whom have not picked up on the story and spoken out on the atrocities being committed in the name of our religion.

What a shame!

At last ...

2008-11-29T18:06:00.002+03:00

the sun is out!

For five weeks, it has been hiding behind the heavy clouds. And today, just now, it is shining and its warmth is making me want to run out - not a bad idea on a warm day like this when the temperature is only ZERO degrees Celsius.

Being a sun whore, living in a place where the sun sinks into the horizon well before 5pm, when it becomes pitch black, dampens my spirits a lot.

Being the ultimate geek, tapping away at my keyboard, day in, day out, I find it difficult to cut the umbilical chord feeding me with news and gossip from around the world - and relate to the real world, where suns shine and tornadoes hit people, and thus when the sun's rays knock on my windows - like they are doing now - I find myself still typing away and before I know it, there is no sun anymore.

But this won't happen today - as I am determined not only at getting some sun, and doing loads of shopping - but also getting a lovely tan for my return home.

When you see fireworks in the skies of Wonderland - you now know what they occasion is!!

The Graduate

2008-11-28T22:23:00.002+03:00

Last week this time, we were at a lovely graduation ceremony, where people from around the world were presented with their PhD and Masters degrees. My better half was presented with his Masters of Science. It was a day of optimism and hope - with graduates and their families beaming with pride as those who worked hard towards their degrees stepped on stage to receive a piece of paper, which sets them a few steps closer towards achieving their goals.

Being who I am, a woman who carries her emotions on her sleeves, I couldn't hide the tears which were gushing out of no where. The more I tried to reason with myself that it was a day of happiness, the more the tears flowed. There was no way I could reason with the fluctuating emotions. As he stepped on stage to collect his degree, no feelings can describe how it feels to admire my handiwork. He completed a degree which others take at least three years to struggle with in a record eight months - and with flying colours.

Being married to a genius certainly has its perks - and in that multi-national audience, I walked with my head up high, cuddled by the warmth of an Indian couple, who are our surrogate family so far away from home. Santhosh and Sherry Shetty actually took the day off work, to be with us on our big day - and it meant the world to us.

Today Sherry was on the phone in tears - asking me what will happen when my better half wraps up his PhD and we return to our Wonderland. How often will I travel back to Canada and when will we meet again?

All I told her was that it is a small world - and our paths will certainly cross again.

With all the mayhem happening in Mumbai, the smallness of this world has been a constant feeling, squeezing my heart. People from all nationalities and walks of life were touched and impacted by the terror unleashed - in a war which isn't even theirs. Innocent by-standers were mowed down by the indiscriminate bullets of hate and terror for no other reason than they were at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

But what is the right place and the right time? There never is anything as such - and such acts of terror shouldn't have a place in this world. But that is the dreamer in me speaking - and reality is that there is so much unjustified hate and intolerance out there, it is scary to imagine what the future holds for us.

In the aftermath of the attacks on Mumbai, an Indian friend of mine, and a dear one to be more precise, wrote to me saying that he cannot imagine that I am a Muslim too. While this statement took me by surprise - I couldn't lash back at him as I would at a total stranger. This is someone who has known me for years and someone who has lived in Muslim countries and interacted with Muslims and knows that we are not all terrorists - or even accept such atrocities being committed in our name and the name of our religion.

Last week I was looking forward to tomorrow. Today, I just want to curl in a dark corner and shield myself far far away from this madness.

What's New?

2008-11-28T18:09:00.004+03:00

I am no Michelle Obama .. but what's new in this?

Is she the first or last woman to give up on her life and career for a man - any man - even if he were the President of the US of A?

That is a sacrifice many of us career-driven women are faced with. The other choice, of course, is to marry a dim wit, whose idea of life doesn't embrace the world CHANGE... or not to get married at all!

Change? Obama? mmmm .. I will leave this rant to another time.

From Fairyland to Wonderland

2008-11-17T23:38:00.002+03:00

Back home, after an eventful week in the land of Hamlet, and fairy tales, and mermaids, full of stories and excitement, only to chuckle at what is happening in my Wonderland.

What's happening at the Ministry of Misinformation? According to undisclosed sources, the official news agency reported that its Minister will be replaced by Shaikha Mai Al Khalifa. A few phone calls later and some whispers, the story is that the now former Minister Jihad BuKamal, who has been in his job for a year, lost his post for allowing Waad's Ibrahim Sharif to speak on air. Yikes. Does this turn the tables and make a man whose job it is to censor free speech a victim? Is the oppressor oppressed now? And is he the first guardian of censorship to lose his job for allowing someone, anyone, to say something, whatever it may be, unfiltered?

What message are we sending the rest of the world? I see. I get it now. We are telling everyone that we are a country which upholds the law: that anyone breaking the silence and speaking his mind without censorship will be punished - minister or not. Don't you love equality? I do.

I don't know BuKamal, and haven't worked with him but I certainly am happy he no longer has ink on his hands - dirty ink from massacring those newspapers, and books, and publications - and suffocating those dangerous dangerous words and thoughts. As for Shaikha Mai, she is someone I approve of as a Minister of Culture - BUT not Information as I don't believe we need one in a democracy, unless perhaps I am missing something and we really aren't that.

Liveblog your Reactions

2008-11-05T19:36:00.003+03:00

The whole of yesterday seems like the stuff dreams are made of. I am still not grasping it - perhaps because I was too busy, too wound up and too involved. And perhaps because I was bringing my own excess baggage into the equation, for in my country, aspiring to do that amounts to treason.

Anyway, it isn't about me and my messy existence. It is about dreams becoming a reality, hundreds of millions of people inspired, saying enough and insisting on change, and the whole world rejoicing. America has not let the world down. The past eight years have been a downer. And after all the rhetoric shoved down our throats for the past 18 months, there better be change.

Anyway, this post is not about that too. It is to draw your attention to the phenomenal efforts at Voices without Votes, and specifically to this liveblog, where you can register your thoughts and add links to your blogs or blogs you read:

McCain .. Never Again

2008-11-04T19:46:00.004+03:00

McCain McCain

I don't want to ever type your name again

It gives me pain

It drives me insane

And what's with Palin

And her fear of Stalin

A dumb selection for a twin

Makes me wonder if you ever wanted to win

Dear A$$holes,

2008-10-31T03:21:00.005+03:00

Get the f@ck out of my life.

Fucker # 1:

I am not in the same league as you are. So f@ck off!

This is what I do to A$$holes like you:

I block you. And delete you.

Get a life. Play with someone your age. Your class. Your status in life.

Who is THAT ONE?

2008-10-27T17:00:00.006+03:00

IF I were THAT ONE I would be walking around, talking to myself and asking: "Who am I?"

Never mind what you think, or what the truth is, for people are now turning to the internet in a desperate last minute attempt to find out the real answer - and possibly some dirt on the Hawaiian-born, Indonesian-Madrassa taught, half Kenyan African black-half Kansas American white, community organiser, turned lawyer, turned Senator, turned Presidential nominee, turned Presidential candidate, turned ... ARAB.

Having access to Voices without Votes engine rooms gives me access to loads of information and this weekend our top search keywords on the site are as follows:

Never known as people who would give up, no matter what, the search continues, and here are a few more key search words:

And while I have no problem with people obsessing over Obama's background as their persistence is anything but admirable, the search continues:

This time our readers are confused: Is he Arab and NOT black or he is Arab OR black. I don't want to shock those gentile folks: but it is possible to create the ultimate boogeyman: The Black Arab. We have loads of them across the Arab world, and I also have friends from this specific species of creatures where I come from, in Bahrain. I would be happy to introduce you to some of them and I assure you, they don't bite.

And after all this, search words number 99 and 100 conclude the inevitable: he is an Arab. What first started as a question, a very confused one that is, is now fact, regardless of whether they are confused on whether he is A Arab or just Arab.

Keep looking folks. I hope you find out the answer soon and put the man out of his misery, for he too is sure confused.

Am I included?

2008-10-26T23:56:00.001+03:00

In this windfall?

Wishful thinking. I know.

Covering Up Sarah Palin

2008-10-24T00:30:00.002+03:00

I still can't get over it.

If 'THAT ONE' can justify spending other people's money on a $150,000 shopping spree, with total disregard for an economic crisis rocking her country, I don't see why I shouldn't go and get myself new winter boots.

I totally understand that she is from Alaska - which is in the vicinity of Russia - and that she needs to get out of her rags and get into something classier. But I still can't see how the Republicans can and should justify it to all the hockey mums out there who buy their clothes from Walmart and Target.

Has she no shame?

And the horrific manner in which her party has covered covering her up - by announcing that they will donate the clothes to charity is way beyond my comprehension. What charity are they talking about?

comic relief

2008-10-23T20:56:00.002+03:00

Just as adding Palin to the Republican ticket has brought us all comic relief, I find the unwitting telemarketers who are unfortunate enough to dial my number left in as much shock as we are over Palin or laughing until they wet their knickers.

A poor chap just called asking me if I was interested in a new phone service, which offers lower rates for calls across Canada and the US.

My calm response was:

"Thank you... but I don't use the phone."

"Yes maam.. you use the Internet."

"No. Pigeons."

"Pardon."

"PIGEONS."

"Excuse me?"

"Pi-geons."

Silence, followed by:

"Ok. Thank you maam."

You are more than welcome. And stop calling me. And even more urgent, stop calling me 'maam,' F*@kface!

Umm Hilal for President?

2008-10-21T21:47:00.001+03:00

Why not? Click on the video here and rally some support for her!

The World For

2008-10-21T00:51:00.001+03:00

...McCain or Obama. I just shared my views with the site. It takes less than a minute and if the soap opera happening in this part of the world is of any interest to you - as it should be - please take time to add your voice. And speaking of voices, please check out the amazing work bloggers from around the world are doing at Voices without Votes, edited by yours truly.

Happy Birthday to me ...

2008-10-18T01:07:00.001+03:00

I know. If I don't blow my own trumpet, who will? Although it coincides with the International Day for the Eradication of Poverty and could have been tasteless being so far away from home, I was overwhelmed with the wishes from every corner of the globe.

Keeping with the spirit of my online work, my family assembled in front of the webcam and sang Happy Birthday to me. It was bittersweet ... but what are they supposed to do? Get on their camels and come trotting across the globe?

And thanks to the amazing friends from around the world, this year's celebration was special.

All the way from Fiji, John Liebhardt sang:

Happy birthday to our fearless leader
Who tightens our copy and brightens our day
She links to all those strange posts
And makes this work seem like kids' play

Oh Amira, happy birthday our fearless leader
With your wisdom, you've made VwV a lot of fun
I'll let you in on a little secret:
we won't know what to do with our lives
When this election is done.

Happy Birthday, Amira

Little does John know that the work he and his colleagues do keep me going and give me something to look forward to everyday! Thank you all! How I wish everyday was my birthday.

Off I go ... need to get ready for my birthday dinner :)

Stop me ...

2008-10-17T03:24:00.002+03:00

from clicking replay!

And let me be frank with you and admit the sad sad truth. The only reason I am smitten over the US election, other than my vested interest in working on Voices without Votes, is because we can't have as much fun with our politicians and governments back home.

Imagine what would have happened if a similar YouTube video was posted about anyone in Wonderland? That would certainly be the last thing that person does. Not only will YouTube be banned, but the entire Internet as well. And not only will the person who posted it be jailed, but his/her entire family would have been punished for eternity.

Sigh! We live in worlds apart. If one day a Sarah Palin makes it up the ladder, speaks nonsense, winks at people and hisses lies, would anyone with or without a moustache dare make fun of her - even in a country where women are second class to the status of their men in society? Why am I complicating things? Simply because it is complicated.

Happy Thanksgiving

2008-10-13T18:29:00.003+03:00

It's Thanksgiving here today and I sure have a lot to thank the Almighty for.

Thank God I don't have money stashed away in funds, hedge funds and the like; Thank God I don't have money invested in stocks which are falling quicker than Palin's ratings after she opened her mouth; Thank God a black guy whose father's name is Hussain is not running in the Canadian elections too and that the whites are battling it out among themselves, or we will be tuning into to the same reality show at both sides of the border; AND thank God I had time to rush these quick notes before I rush out and bask in the sun - a sun which shines on all, depending on the whims of PMSing clouds.

RIP

2008-10-11T16:55:00.005+03:00

Why? Just explain to me why and how and I promise I will shut up and move on - like I do with everything and anything that hits me. Growing up is a sobering experience to say the least - you just learn to turn the other cheek and wait for the next slap life will dish out to you - on a silver platter, of course.

To those of you who know me, you will recognise my fetish for cactus. I don't do anything to the buggers, but I love having them around me. Like me, they are low maintenance, sturdy and only poke you when you interfere with their personal space. And unlike me, someone able to adapt to any situation, and takes it personally when I let anyone down, one of my spiky friends called it a day. There was no official burial ceremony and it is now wrapped up in a plastic bag, awaiting its doom as I drop it into the garbage chute at the end of the hallway. And it deserves this and more for dying on me - just as I was thinking of what it's destiny would be when I pack up and leave to Bahrain.

I swear I have the capacity to jinx things just by thinking about them. Now, that is power. Sitting on my sofa, musing at my cactus collection (picture above), I was actually thinking what will happen when I leave to Bahrain. What will happen to my sturdy plants? Will I give them to a friend and blackmail her/him into taking care of them when I return to civilisation and resume a normal existence straight out of a catalogue book of surreal silliness, or is there a way to take them back with me? Why blackmail? Because that is what I do best. Whenever I leave on my trips/holidays, I leave my plants in the care of my room mate and ask him to look after them -- and should anything happen to them while I am away -- to consider that as a breach of trust and possibly a chance to reassess our entire relation. I mean, if a man cannot be trusted to care for cactus, should I trust him with my life?

And then .. after all this fuss, one of those spiky monsters caves in .. and dies. Just like that, and for no reason. I mean I hardly water them, I talk to them, they are in the sun and they have Froggy the frog for company. What more did they expect me to do? Pat their spikes?

Now one is dead and the monster with the orangish flower is sick. The rest are fine. But I am not sure I can trust them anymore. You see, in life, there is no 80% trust. No 90% trust. Just 100% trust. And they have let me down. One died. The other is sick. What will the rest do to me?

And my rosemary. It died too. I mean it is dry and withered and I haven't done anything to it either. But I don't care much for it. It is the cactus that have hurt me - mainly because I looked up to them and they have let me down.

My options now? I don't know. Perhaps a little kitty or a puppy? Don't know. It is a difficult choice to make.

This is not funny

2008-10-07T21:37:00.003+03:00

Monkeys work in Japanese restaurant - Courtesy BBC

Mosquitoes

2008-09-27T18:39:00.002+03:00

There are thousands of little mosquitoes lurking on my windows and the mesh - ready to pounce on me and gobble me up for lunch, dinner and breakfast. There aren't any inside the house (YET), but I can feel the itch creeping up on me. I want to scratch myself from tip to toe before going on a rampage and killing those assholes, who are making my life a living hell.

This summer, they attacked me at every opportunity they got, making me hallucinate at one point that I had to be infected with the West Nile Virus. Even when fully clothed in Taliban-style attire, they managed to wreak havoc on my skin, which breaks into hives when they attack me, leaving me with bumps the size of worthless American quarters. They find the weirdest places: my ankles, neck and elbows. They penetrate the thickest of Jeans and inject their venom into my thighs.

I am tired, fed up and exhausted of their constant unwarranted bombardments. I talk to my Canadian and American friends and they just laugh at me saying that North America's mosquitoes don't bother them. Those racist mosquitoes have a vendetta against this unarmed pacifist Arab - but I will stamp my feet today, go to Walmart and find the most lethal spray out there and massacre them at 3am in the morning.

The fuckers must DIE!

It's Eid soon...

2008-09-26T17:57:00.002+03:00

...and silly materialistic shopaholic Bahraini girl needs a little something to brighten her life and make celebrating Ramadhan, suffering lonely Eids, and not seeing her lovely nephews and nieces for such long stretches of time worth it.

Ok ... you would argue that I just got a few toys recently, like my new laptop, camera lens, wii accessories, etc ... and yes, there is a recession and Wall Street fell down and Humpty Dumpty needs to be bailed out ... but what has all this got to do with me and my pressing need to visit Bloor Street and feel like a human being!

I must have been really charming in the way I proposed it ... because he said I can go there, provided I was QUICK! Having done my homework online, I know I will be able to strike a deal in split seconds. There is no going back now :)

Happy Eid everyone! My Eid will be complete soon :)

Tweet Tweet

2008-09-24T01:05:00.002+03:00

Tweet it, Google him, Facebook them, Flickr those bozos or YouTube them, and then add them to del.i.cious, but not before you Furl, Stumble Upon, Buzz Up, Mixx, Digg, Reddit them -- What am I going on about? If you aren't on all these ...you might as well not have existed ...

Thank you Paula!

When Silly Isn't Silly Enough ...

2008-09-23T16:58:00.005+03:00

When not silly or up to mischief, playing on my Wii or XBox, shopping (duh! Joy Oh Joy!), clicking away on my camera, washing dishes, vacuuming, whipping up feasts in my kitchen, entertaining guests or watering my cactus, I do some useful things in life - sometimes.

Here's a serious side of Silly Bahraini Girl I rarely allow to creep into this blog :)

I really really enjoy writing and communicating with people and am so passionate about it. It is my vocation - and whether on a newsdesk or tucked away in my apartment in the middle of nowhere, like my cactus, I will continue to poke if you don't handle me with care!

I hope you enjoy the interview. It gives you a sneak preview into my life .. and humble achievements :)

Thanks David!

Mussels for Iftar

2008-09-04T03:45:00.003+03:00

Seriously, is there a Republican convention going on in the US of A right now?
I don't seem to find any links for blogs talking about it for Voices without Votes. At all!!!
Help. If you see any links, please send them this way.

In other news, I have celebrated today's Iftar meal in an all you can eat mussels fiasco - alternating my pick between a mango and coconut sauce and a garlic and lemon and olives and capers one.

Is this acceptable? Seriously? Whatever is the case, it gives me enough cholesterol in my veins to usher in a heart attack just as I planned it would be - five years from now.

Will the heart attack kill me? I don't know .. and I shouldn't harbour such evil thoughts as I celebrate my fifth anniversary as a wife :)

In other news, I am iffing fed up with people asking me when I will have children. I won't. I mean, I can't - In short, I don't want to yet and I don't feel responsible enough for myself to be responsible enough for other people. Seriously. Stop it. Don't even talk about it or ask me. I will get a heart attack in five years, if not sooner, and the last thing I want to leave is a legacy. What if there was another Silly Bahraini Girl? Will that mean that the cycle will continue and we will never hear the end of it? Duh, even I am bored with this.

As an aside, I met an old woman, who lives in my building, this morning. And we have chatted loads of times before. Here goes the conversation:

Her: So are you back in school?
Me : I was never in school here .. and I don't need to be!
Her: So are your children back in school?
Me : I never had children ... I don't need to .. to be!
Her: Oh! Ok...
Me : Get a life!

10 years

2008-08-27T18:09:00.002+03:00

Roba has had a pair of beloved sneakers for a little over 10 years. It is indeed a lovely sensation to hang on to anything for that long. The idea warmed me up, me, someone who has conditioned herself not to get attached to anything. I don't know - but as silly as it may be - I don't have a favourite pair of shoes, or bag, or jeans, or even a pullover or a jacket, or a suit, or a dress or a hair clip.

And while it is sad - it all goes back to growing up with five sisters under one roof. Do you think if you are the eldest and you have five other sisters in the same house - anything at all would be yours for too long?

Friends who know me know that I am a shopaholic at heart -- and not one of those moody shoppers. I no longer shop when I am anxious and depressed. That was so last year. I now only shop when I am happy and feel like emitting and receiving good vibes. Anyway back to the sisters, whom I miss more and more everyday. Whenever I would go shopping, I would return home with the resignation that whatever my haul was for the day could be confiscated - if not immediately, then in the very near future.

As such, material goods just became that - disposables. I used to have favourite things but when those favourite things got into other people's (read sisters) hands, I learned to control the urge to throw a fit and be the elder wiser one - until the idea that having anything last until the next season became reality.

And as such, my door was never locked and my purchases includes a lot of extras, especially when it came to my annual pilgrimages - or shopping trips abroad -- where I realised that if I wanted anything to stay with me - and for me alone - I had to buy it in bulk -- and give each of the brood her own.

Of course, the six of us come in different shapes and even colours - with one common denominator - four of us wear the same size shoes! And they sure don't go after my sneakers as I sure do have some tucked away which could be two decades old -- those are completely ignored, no matter what make they are. They have all six eyes fixed on my stilettos - and the more expensive, the better.

And thus I learned not to hang on to anything ... anything at all ... and the only thing I can claim to have held on to for close to a decade is this guy I share an apartment with - who I am married to and who wants to take me shopping today. For what? More disposables?

dirty and smelly silly bahraini girl

2008-08-27T02:34:00.003+03:00

I just got this interesting comment from a reader on a post I had written earlier about Moroccan prostitutes in the Gulf. See how proud she is to have second hand men abusing her until the next hot item parades herself in front of him:

habibti silly bahraini girl

as ur name shows,u r really silly,stupid and not mature at all!!! sorry to say that but the way u talk about moroccan girls means that u r simply jealous and frustrated!u have no right to talk about people of any nationality in such a way.let me show u something : moroccan girls are beautiful and u have to accepte this,and most khaliji women hate them because of this.khaliji guys are crazy about them and u can not deny it honey,that s a fact!!!so u have to accept it!u r giving a hard time to urself for no reason.moroccans are the most sexy and attractive women and u can t change it sweety unfortunately.so relax,take it easy babe!!!and u can t deny as well that there is an incredible attraction between khaliji guys and moroccan girls.and u know why?because they take care of their men,they are sexy,educated,beautiful and simply the best!!!!!yep!!i know it s hard for u to accept it but that s the way it is habibti.i ll give u an advice ,before saying any prejudice,go for a moroccan bath first and scrub ur body,i m sure u need it cause u all just take a shower(that s what ur men say about u!)and try to change ur nick name as well for "dirty and smelly silly bahraini girl",it suits u really!!!!!
best advices from a beautiful moroccan girl.موتى بحرتك أو غيضك يا معفنة!!!!!!!!!!!!!!loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooollllllllll
August 19, 2008

My Articles in Bangla

2008-08-20T06:28:00.002+03:00

This is is an image of my screen. I have spend the last five minutes trying to figure out how my name looks in Bangla - one of 15 languages my articles on Global Voices Online are translated into.

Isn't this phenomenal? As Global Voices Online Middle East and North Africa's editor, I work with a phenomenal team of volunteers from the region who select what bloggers in the countries they cover are talking about to be featured in GVO daily. Once the articles are published on the site, another team of volunteers select the articles which interest them and then translate them into other languages.

And thus .. the world talks to each other!

Tweet Tweet

2008-08-15T17:05:00.002+03:00

Morning Sunshine :)

It is sunny today and I am smiling.

Just spent an hour skimming through my aggregators, projects I am involved with and snooping on friends messages on Facebook and Twitter.

More later ....

get me out of here

2008-08-14T21:27:00.002+03:00

I am horrified. I am sat here in a hotel lobby in Toronto, eavesdropping on a family - a mother and her two monsters, aged maybe four and six. Scary. Serious racist scumbags of a calibre I have never seen before.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop. Seriously. I am just catching up on work, using the free wi-fi.

Little boy, playing with a plastic thingy, shouts: "I am allergic to Shish Kebab."
I look up. Nothing wrong. Shish Kebab makes me hungry as it's 2.23pm and I need lunch.

Little girl, playing with - oh wait, it's plasticine and they are making figurines and playing with their mother - how sweet - yells: "Look mummy I made a monkey."

Mummy smiles back and says: "You made a Chinese!"

HORROR oh HORROR!!

I need to get out of here. I don't know what they will say about me and I don't care. It is at moments like this where I wish I was deaf, dumb and even better blind.

get me out of here

2008-08-14T21:17:00.003+03:00

I am horrified. I am sat here in a hotel lobby in Toronto, eavesdropping on a family - a mother and her two monsters, aged maybe four and six. Scary. Serious racist scumbags of a calibre I have never seen before.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop. Seriously. I am just catching up on work, using the free wi-fi.

Little boy, playing with a plastic thingy, shouts: "I am allergic to Shish Kebab."
I look up. Nothing wrong. Shish kebab makes me hungry as it's 2.23pm and I need lunch.

Little girl, playing with - oh wait, it's plasticine and they are making figurines and playing with their mother - how sweet - yells: "Look mummy I made a monkey."

Mummy smiles back and says: "You made a Chinese!"

HORROR oh HORROR!!

I need to get out of here. I don't know what they will say about me and I don't care. It is at moments like this where I wish I was deaf, dumb and even better blind.

God Maketh ...

2008-08-13T18:09:00.002+03:00

Man taketh.

Women maketh.. man taketh and claims to be his own.

What a bunch of losers! Seriously.

Small World

2008-08-13T18:01:00.004+03:00

Three of my friends are meeting in Beirut tonight - in a random cafe.

The cafe is named just like a blog which belongs to a friend, who lived in Morocco, who I am meeting in Toronto tonight.

How weird is this? Small world indeed!

Five Years

2008-08-13T15:15:00.002+03:00

How long is five years?

And not just any five years. Not the hypothetical five year plans of crazed regimes. Not the five years in the life of a nation, where things repeat themselves anyway. Or just any random five years.

Five years of your life. Of your being. Of you breathing and thinking and believing and hoping and expecting and longing and wanting and finally realising that it was just a Lie. Lie with a capital L.

Bahrain, MPs, and Facebook

2008-08-10T18:14:00.007+03:00

Dear Bahraini MPs,

I have not written anything about you or Bahrain for a long time, but you seriously have an itch and don't want me to stay away from you. You will not grow up and you will not stop embarrassing me in front of my cyberfriends, the Cyberians, so here's a free lesson in Freedom of Speech and Expression, Anti-Censorhsip and RESPECT.

Dear Bahraini MPs,

I first laughed and then turned crimson red when I read in today's Gulf Daily News that one of you proposed to the Telecommunications Regulatory Board that Facebook should be banned.

I laughed because nothing can be banned by anyone any more. Wake up and smell the new era of freedom - an era you cannot control; an era out of your grasp and understanding; and an era too complex for you to absorb. Stop interfering with technology and the Internet; new media and old media; the silver and the big screen. They are too too complex for you. Next time I am in Bahrain, I will go to A'ali and ask the potter there to cast 40 clay tablets. I will then come to Parliament and present one tablet to each one of you. You can start chipping off at those first. When I have more time and energy, I will tell you want to do next. Hang on to the tablets. Keep them close to your hearts. Phase 2 of the project will follow. It will be fun and creative. Is that still Halal in Bahrain or has there been a fatwa saying that fun and creativity are now Haram?

According to GDN:

such websites were against Islamic teachings and should be closed in addition to others where women posted their pictures and information.

"I am against anything that is against our religion, culture and traditions. We shouldn't have women posting their pictures on these websites, with their information and names for everybody to see," he said.

So having men post their pictures is fine and dandy. The technology only becomes Haram when women start posting their names and pictures. So lemme rub this in some more and be more specific. Is this man suggesting that what is acceptable for one part of society, should be banned on the other half. I have two suggestions for this MP who is going against Bahrain's constitution, values, norms and traditions, as well as Islam, where men and women were created EQUAL. So if he doesn't like the country, he can leave. Good bye whatever your name is. Sweet riddance. Two, if he doesn't like Facebook, and the Internet for that matter, he should just pull the plug off. If he doesn't want to see the pictures of women in his family on Facebook, he should stop them from doing so. But, for the rest of us Bahraini women, we will have our names and pictures plastered where ever we fancy and no one will stop us. We exist. We have a face. We have a name. We have pictures. And we have access to the Internet - and Facebook - whether it is banned or not.

websites like Facebook, which had gained tremendous popularity among young Bahrainis, were not in line with the country's religion and traditions.

Again, let's shut Facebook because it is popular among youth. While we are at it, let's close Batelco because it provides communication services. It gives us telephones my dear MP. Those telephones are used by girls and boys to talk to each other. The story goes, and keep your eyes open as you read this (not that you can read English - but that is another story altogether) or you can close your eyes and visualise the scene: Boy meets girls. Boy throws number at girl. Girl jumps to catch number, whips out her phone and rings the guy - who is already on another call with the girl he gave his number to two minutes ago. Juggling the two girls, he decides to meet them both. They meet. All three. The threesome was so exciting. They decide to do it again, bringing in more people the next time. One of the girls wasn't a virgin - both sides. The other had her hymen intact but not her hind. You figure which was which - the one wearing the Hijab - or the one who wasn't.

Countries around the world are spending millions to protect their youth, such as Saudi Arabia where they ban such websites as well as China

Yes. Countries do spend millions to protect their youth. On education. On learning. On sports. On music. On arts. On dance. On theatre. On broadening their horizons. On science. On enlightenment. On development. Not on returning them to the stone age. And you crack me up. Saudi Arabia and China? Are you out of it? Seriously?

Saudi Arabia has oil and immense wealth to allow it to justify anything it wants to do - in a spineless world. And China has managed and rule a billion people with an iron fist - and host spectacular Olympics like never before. What have we got to show? Do you know what the last major news to make it out of Bahrain was? It was that His Majesty the King pardoned 250 people, for taking part in demonstrations. Do you know what that means? That means that Bahrain arrests people for expressing their opinion and throws them in jail. And then you know how ridiculous your suggestion to block Facebook and introduce more Internet censorship makes us look? Ridiculous, my respect MP, doesn't even begin to explain it.

For the love of God, stop using Islam, and our values and traditions in vain. Stop making us the laughing stock of the civilised world. Stop behaving like savages. And allow people to stand on their feet and find their way through the mess. Allow them to make mistakes and learn from them. Allow them to breathe and live. And be there for them when they need you.

back ...

2008-08-10T16:42:00.002+03:00

Of course I was being silly in my previous posts. As a human being, I suppose I have the right to feel down from time to time. And this summer has been particularly depressing in this part of the world for several reasons. Every morning I wake up, look out of my window, and feel like diving into bed again. Why? Well, after an ugly grey brutal winter, all we have had this summer is rain, rain and more iffing rain. It is dark all day long, from the minute you open your eyes to the minute you close them. And the air is heavy. Heavy with moisture and rain.

But then I am silly and ungrateful right. Wasn't I away for almost a month hopping from one country to the next in the Old World. Wasn't I on a beach overlooking the Mediterranean in Turkey for almost a week, soaking in the sun? And don't I still look like a zebra with tan lines running in all directions across my body? And didn't I have fun? Loads of fun, in fact? And wasn't all that just a month ago?

So what is wrong?

What is wrong is that I am an ungrateful cow who either has everything my way -- or want nothing at all from this world. It is either black, very black, or pink. Rosy pink. My rules are simple: I want fun, loads of it; I love simplicity, I am straightforward; I don't want to have anything to do with complex, crazy, complicated, complex-ridden people ever; and I want comfort - and contrary to popular belief it doesn't even have to be high end - simply because I enjoy making things myself. How many people here know that I have a sewing machine? That I love making my own curtains and drapes and cushions and quilts? That I sew and embroider? And stitch and paint and cut and carve? And work with wood, and a hammer, and a saw? And can work a soldering iron and cut glass? And make my own lamp shades? And spin a potter's wheel? And make pots and figurines? And paint them and glaze them and burn them and turn them. And play in the clay and the mud. And pick fruit. And then remove the stones, and make my own jam. And when the jam is ready to go, I get the flour out. And whip up a nasty dough, which makes great cookies if cut and baked alone. Just as I can sustain myself, and survive Survivour, I choose to live life according to my own twisted rules - and not those dictated by Big Brother. And even though I can do everything I want for myself on my own, I still need security, loads of it. And I need to feel I belong. And I want to belong. And I can't belong - simply because I don't.

And I will snap out of it. And nothing will change. I will not change the world and the world will not change me. And we will continue battling it out and at the end, the world will triumph. And the dark clouds will gobble up everything and there will be no more light - not even that faint glimmer which forces its way through the heavy drapes I put together and tickles my eyelids every morning, forcing my lashes to part.

But I am annoyed. And have every right to be annoyed. Annoyed not because I am always good - but because I am always wronged. Annoyed not because I always forgive - but because this easily given forgiveness is perceived as an act of weakness. I am not weak. Was never weak. Will never be weak. I just have no time and energy for games. Mental games aren't for me. I love simple, uncomplicated things. Very simple things. And lots of fun.

And that last Batman movie. It really annoyed me too. It was dark and evil and had to close my eyes through many of the scenes. And for the record, I actually screamed a couple of times too. I left the theatre disturbed. Violence makes me cring. As well as loud things. And loud people. Even people who laugh loudly. There is something disturbing and sinister about them. They aren't real... but then a lot of things aren't real. Like me having to go grocery shopping today. Or having to clean the house. Or having to cook. Or trying to juggle a couple of writing projects and making time to play video games - all at the same time.

Unhappy :(

2008-08-09T18:56:00.002+03:00

I feel unhappy. No. Not unhappy. I feel miserable today. Not just today. I feel miserable every day. 365 days a year. Sometimes I pretend to be happy. But it isn't real. Don't let my fake smile delude you. You can't be happy when you are dead.

Hit by a Train

2008-08-09T18:35:00.003+03:00

I feel like a bullet train has hit me head on for no reason - I wasn't even anywhere near the tracks. And in my daze, instead of trying to reason, understand or figure things out, I come here to my safe corner, where my laptop is. Gasping for air, with every breath, I feel myself drowning some more. Somehow, air isn't what I need in my lungs. It feels heavy and it even hurts.

Suicide tendencies have crossed my mind from time to time - even though I do look and seem sound. In my darkest moments, I see myself repeatedly stabbing myself. We two don't get along so well with each other and have a history - and bad blood, I should add. I get squeamish of blood. The mere thought of it and its stench make me want to throw up. Now the idea of me wanting to throw up is making me sick in the stomach.

Sorry. Hang on. Have to run to the bathroom.

GV and the Olympics

2008-08-09T02:44:00.001+03:00

The Olympics in Beijing have begun!

Thanks to support from Reuters, Global Voices is covering citizen
media reactions to the Olympics from citizens in China and around the
world on our special coverage page and in our Olympics Twitter feed.

Visit the special coverage page:
http://globalvoicesonline.org/-/special/olympics/

Subscribe or publish the RSS feeds:
http://globalvoicesonline.org/-/special/olympics/feed/

Follow the Twitter tweets:
http://twitter.com/gvoolympics

The Twitter feed is also being translated to French by Global Voices
in French and is published on French website, Rue89.
http://fr.globalvoicesonline.org/

Please forward widely!

Manama Na?

2008-07-30T21:54:00.001+03:00

Busy ,,, Doing Nothing!

2008-07-29T20:20:00.002+03:00

I have been very busy lately ... busy doing nothing. Seriously! Fuck all :)

But I am still angry - very angry sometimes - so that is a good sign that I still have some pulse in me and I am alive. I still have a lot of fight in me ... which means I am still me, even when me is now tired and broken and sleepy.

Imaginary Friends

2008-07-24T09:01:00.002+03:00

I swear this is first-hand!

Child: Mummy ... Mummy .. Why don't I have imaginary friends?
Mum : Not everybody has imaginary friends!
Child: Why can't I have any?
Mum : Honey, it doesn't work that way - you either have them or you don't.
Child: Well, I want them anyway!
Mum : You are too well-adjusted for imaginary friends.
Child: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh.. but I want them...

awwwwwwwww.. Isn't that so cute? Why can't I too have imaginary friends? And are people with imaginary friends faring better than us - those with 'real' friends - friends who lie, cheat, smile, frown, suffer from PMS and take you for granted? Friends who tell you half the story, who shield your from the pain in their life?
And friends, who make you laugh, like the one on my guest bed now - and who is telling me all about her grubby little seven-year-old cookie monster, who is still in love with Spiderman. That is so last week...

Cherry Picking Anyone?

2008-07-18T01:56:00.002+03:00

I could have shot myself ... but now I don't have to anymore.

I had missed the strawberry, raspberry and all the other berry pickings because I wasn't here at that particular moment in time when everything, including the dividers separating the highways were abloom with every hue and shade possible in a rainbow!

And then I came and buried my nose in work - thinking that my cherries will be waiting for me ... until I got a friendly pat on my back, which reminded me that my jam supply was running low.

A moment of panic ensued. Sweat found its way to my forehead. And then I stopped being silly and came online to discover that I can still engage in one of the most pleasurable things about living in this beautiful part of Canada - cherry picking!

I just love cherry picking. Don't you?

Restless

2008-07-16T17:30:00.002+03:00

It's only Tuesday .. and I am starting to feel restless being holed up in this pad. I still haven't uppacked my suitcases ... save for throwing all the dirty clothes in the washing machine and then into the dryer - where they are still calling out my name to pick them up, hang them, fold them and do whatever else you have to do with clothes.

Out of all the household chores there are in this world -- the only one I really love is cooking -- or creating recipes out of nowhere. To date, and after three years of moving up the ladder from Clueless-in-the-Kitchen to Cooking Whore, I am yet to get bored of this chore. I can cook daily -- and sometimes three times a day. I am a natural there - as I love dotting people with love, care and loads of food.

In other matters, I am already burned out. I know I shouldn't - but I feel I am. It isn't easy for me fall back into routine like I used to after any break in the cycle. This makes me feel even more anxious about my impending return home, to the daily grind of life. Would I be able to keep office hours from sunrise until after sunset like I did before? Would I have the patience to deal with stupid people day in, day out? Would I this? Would I that? And worst of all, would I take instruction and orders with submission? --- Not that I have ever done that so easily ... but you know what I am going on about.

Sigh! Stretch! Yawn... That neck still hurts and the pain is now radiating to the shoulder. Is it a heart attack?

Ouch!

2008-07-15T22:07:00.002+03:00

After three weeks of holiday - what does a sane person get? THREE extra kilos and a tan - I don't really like.

And instead of focusing at the tasks at hand, what do I do? Pull a muscle in my neck! Do you know how difficult that makes bending over my keyboard, typing, thinking and sounding smart and witty at the same time?

And ... I am starting to sneeze. Those environmental freaks across Europe were wreaking havoc with the air-conditioners while I have my thermostat set at freezing point here. Duh? I really am sorry but I come from Blazing Bahrain and this is how we like our surroundings to be - homey, comfortable and chilling cool! Get it? Now come and rub some ointment on my neck and shoulder -- QUICK!

Liars ...

2008-07-14T16:36:00.003+03:00

What does one do with liars?

When you have lived all your life telling yourself that it is best to be open, frank and honest; when you have pledged to stay truthful and loyal and not hurt anyone or trespass on their rights, whether they are there or hundreds of miles away; when you abhore yourself for letting your mind wander (even a little) and your imagination run (even not so far away) .... only to reign them in and remember your responsibility towards yourself and your dear and near ones - and how mortally wrong it would be to even consider straying from your path; when you do all this and more only to be slapped over and over again by liars, who wait for you to turn your back to show their real faces - faces which are all smiles when you are around, beaming with love, fidelity and loyalty; faces which change colours when you are not around; faces you don't know anymore - or rather, faces you don't want to know any longer.

Nothing hurts me more than lying - and liars. Nothing breaks my heart more than disloyalty and breaking the code of trust. Nothing kills me more than seeing myself played over and over again -- and for no reason really - except that I have a high code of ethics. Shouldn't we treat people who have continued to hurt us the way they treat us? Should I continue to turn the other cheek when I know so well that both cheeks are bruised, black and blue, and aching ...

How many times does someone have to lie to you before you wake up from your rosy dream and smell the stench you have fooled yourself into thinking that it would go away - just like the winds push away the treacherous clouds on a rainy day and the sun rays burst out in full fury just before sunset? Does it really get darkest before dawn? How many dark dawns do you have to go through to realise that it is a vicious circle and there is no remedy for circles other than smashing them after getting out from hamster cage, you have willingly made a home for yourself in?

Evey time you lie to someone who is yearning to believe in you, you take away light years from their existance, knawing at their very flesh, exposing them to a savage, lonely and horrible end. Or may be not. You may have to be overly cruel to be kind and perhaps your endless lies and treachery are a concealed message which in my extreme naviety and shallowness, I haven't been able to decode yet.

Give me time to mull over this dear one ... There even comes a day for the gushing river of patience to run dry. Climate change is a reality.

Last Stop

2008-07-14T01:43:00.001+03:00

I can't imagine I am here after being there! Help...

48th Hour

2008-07-14T01:29:00.002+03:00

It's been two days since my return home ... and I have had my nose buried in my laptop making up for lost time ... and I have to admit, that I am no where near beginning to start doing what I am even supposed to be doing!

And it's not even like I haven't been near my laptop at all over the last three weeks! Okay, not as much as I wanted to - but come on, my eyes needed a break and so did my over worked under-utlised mind! Besides, I was on the move, literally the whole time, cramming in as much as was humanly possible in days which flew and nights which stretched forever! And there was little sleep, very little, and very often I would be up as light broke through the horizon, against the will of the masses!

Enough said ... more later! Back to work I go!