Since I landed I was looking for things that Caleb and I could do or that I could entice a friend to join me in doing. Caleb had a Saturday off and we got a ride to the Bahrain National Museum to look at their Dolls of Japan exhibit. It was a nice surprise to see there was an Investing in Culture exhibit and that permanent exhibits had been updated in an attempt to keep the attention of the younger crowd after we paid our 1.005 BD entry fee.
Since we left, Bahrain has introduced a VAT (value-added tax) mostly aimed at expats to help with the government decreasing the subsidies from oil revenues that have historically been spent on Bahrainis to pay their rent, bills, and meat costs. I can understand why the locals would be upset after having been given handouts for so long when the government started asking for 5% on taxable items… back to the museum.
We follow the numbered panels in the foyer to read about the beginning of Bahrain and the construction of the museum and its effects on the country and the region as a collection of a history that has since been built over and expanded to hold more shopping malls, mosques, and three-story villas on what little public beach there used to be. Bahrain is definitely investing in its new sense of culture and building it high.
Bahrain used to be more traditional but even now there is a movement to upgrade the Manama Souk with Wi-Fi so that cell phones will be able to show off its Instagram worthiness within seconds, especially with the facade, signage, and walkway improvements scheduled. Perhaps this will improve businesses in the area by modernizing the shopping experience to match with malls who offer discount apps and geo-tagging for loyalty programs.
I see how change can be difficult for more old-fashioned people used to doing things a certain way, such as when I had to adjust from a 30-foot-long corded phone (a trip and choke hazard with siblings) to a cordless phone that my step-dad could leave outside in the rain — twice — and they weren’t cheap back then. Bahrain may be small and covered in water bottles and cigarette butts, but that’s not stopping this country from trying to compete in the international market.
After detouring through the history of Bahrain we reach The Dolls of Japan: Shapes of Prayers, Embodiments of Love exhibit. We learn that what started out with such traditions as the Hina Matsuri (Girl’s Festival) led to the spread of this art to show the appreciation of time-honored costumes and craft styles with familiar themes of Noh and Kabuki to bring the love of dolls to more people than just little girls.
The festival is held annually in March to showcase the attendants in traditional court dress of the Heian period, 794 to 1185, named after the capital which is now modern Kyōto, at a time when Buddhism, Taoism, and Confucianism amongst other Chinese influences, upon poetry as well, were popular in Japan. The hour walk back to the house in Al Fateh was nice as we got to appreciate the new pavement (sidewalk) bricks that line many of the roads as Bahrain attempts to become more pedestrian-friendly.
The fall season has different markers depending on the locality but there’s now a wider distribution of early Christmas decorations (and in our case setting up for National Day), pumpkin spice flavored anything and everything (hello San Diego), and that sudden change in temperature (10* F or 5* C) that has people putting on sweaters and coats depending on their comfort level, which for me is shorts.
HALLOWEEN PARTY
playing Junk in the Trunk
I was invited to an Alice in Wonderland themed Halloween party (girls only) which I thought would be a new and exciting experience. It was definitely new and I was the first to arrive (as I’d forgotten the two hours early invite to get others there “on time”), dressed as the tea party, and the three sisters had spent hours doing their makeup to be the Cheshire Cat, White Rabbit, and Alice with a bloody card sticking out of her neck; and Mom was the Queen of Hearts.
I helped with some of the decorations (arrows and rabbit ears), brought some cookies to go with the tea, but forgot my over-selfie taking self at the door when the other girls arrived to take a million photos from every angle. There was also a photo station under a tree where they gathered, but had no problem using the couch and mirror, etc to set the tone for their Instagram and Snapchat. Most of these girls arrived in an abaya so this was their chance to show some skin.
Between all the flash there was time for party games, some to include all twenty guests and others for just six or less at a time. I won a headband. People left en masse after the food but I waited for one of the cakes to be cut (and my Uber) to return me from Hidd before taking some cake pops with me. This party helps me appreciate all the moments I can spend with friends at events or gatherings while not buried in our phones. Perhaps some great invention will be revealed from their addiction, but until then I will continue to appreciate people in person before attending to my likes.
The first time, back in June 2014, I was excited to finally be old enough to appreciate living abroad as the last time I was learning to walk, talk, and feed myself which are all great skills for an avid traveler. The first time I had to help pay the hotel, rent the car, walk the dogs, deal with the visas — money, paperwork, and settling in — but the second time would be different.
Fast forward to the fall of 2019 and Caleb is arriving in Bahrain in September and has a room reserved at The K Hotel but is adamant about finding a more permanent place to reside before some of our things arrive so he can set them up before his wife comes to visit. I arrive about three weeks after him in October only to find out that our shipment (packed May 31) won’t be here until the end of November — some things don’t change.
pumpkin spirit in Alosra
I arrived via the civilian airport and took an Uber as Bahrain has given its government taxis the option to do both. BD4 later and I was dropped off in front of a new building, Infinity Suites, and looking around — lost. Turns out that’s just a good landmark for our new place. Caleb is expecting more excitement as he gives me a tour of the three-bedroom, three-bathroom villa with extra hand-washing sink and billiards table with straight cues.
The first thing I notice is the lack of art on the walls. He told me to be tired when I arrived so I stayed awake between San Diego and Houston, even though I was up before 4 am, until Paris with the help of a talkative and food sharing family behind me. I would sleep intermittently until arriving at the island after 6 pm the following day and after my tour going straight to bed.
view from Hotel Diva
The first week had me going to bed just as early but it was making up for waking me by 4 am, so Caleb would just get up with me and we got to have breakfast together before his third double-duty day since my arrival — 2.5 days at work and then four working days unless it lands on a weekend (whether American or Bahrain) and he doesn’t get called in. Last time we got two weeks together before he had to check-in and he only had duty every three days.
The neat thing so far is that as much of the island as I thought I saw last time, besides all the new construction (Avenues Mall, Oasis Mall, and IKEA, etc.) there are still parts I haven’t explored. I spent the first few days just walking around Juffair to get acquainted with what was still here and what wasn’t — restaurants into dirt lots and a corner rental car lot into a skyscraper. Last time we were quick to rent a car to get us back and forth between Amwaj, but it’s so nice to walk beside honking traffic and collision evidence without being stuck on the road.
new place
A new popular place is called Dose Cafe, but I have yet to try it. I was more concerned in my adventures with what the grocery stores had to offer as I found durian, but wasn’t quick to grab its sharp exterior to tote home. Last time I was busy taking pictures of the imported food and this time we will be more interested in trying the odd-shaped and unfamiliar produce as we eat less shawarma and sweets to treat our bodies better than we did last time we were here.
Vaping has really taken off here so that a variety of vaping cafes have opened and there are vaping competitions.. if only this would’ve been an option with cocaine when it was popular.. or alcohol which still is. People need to know when to curb their vices to a healthy amount and don’t worry, for my readers who know me I am trying to take my advice on this as well.
sunrise in Juffair
The next few days would be spent catching up and having coffee with some old friends — Quinn took me to Anna’s for the afternoon and since they’re moving I got to go through what’s left of her bookshelf and bring some home; Manal took me to Seef Mall so we could talk and shop while keeping her 13 and 16-year-old boys entertained; Muhanned bought me plenty of caffeine to keep us talking for hours at Dome Cafe; and Muhammed after inviting me along to pick up his friend’s spare key invited me to lunch to finally meet his family.
He decided on Saturday when they have fish would be best — when I got to sit next to his mom so she could show me how to pop the head off and remove the bones. I know how to do this but usually choose not to. His sister thought I was struggling because I wasn’t eating the stomach bones as I don’t care how small they are this time I still don’t want them stuck in my throat. Lunch turned into dinner and eventually I got a ride home after being invited back.
Sunday afternoon
Caleb and I went to the Quicker Than the Eye: Magic & Comedy Up Close! show featuring Bob Kubota, Michael Finney, David Malek, Jim Leach, and Chris Rose that was presented on base. We moved from the kids’ side to the adult side and I thought it might only be an hour-long, but we laughed for two. My favorite part was the volunteer participation in eating an Oreo and drinking milk for a $100 bet, but she wasn’t able to reproduce the cookie.
I bought some new running shoes for the treadmill, stationary bike, and rusted weights that came in place of a bed in our gym/office/diving supplies room complete with a big desk, a working chair, and a bookcase that needed more books from the library. Caleb got a day off so I rented a Kia Rio ($20 for the day vs. $30 to get a roundtrip Uber) and turned right after Hidd Bridge and explored a bit of ASRY (Arab Shipbuilding and Repair Yard) Company territory, so mostly boats and beaches, before picking up Caleb for a dive trip.
post-diving dinner
The weather has been amazing, not over 100* F, and only three days of high humidity (over 80%). I get to enjoy the shade and the breezes, with sunglasses on to keep the dust out of my eyes, but I also get to go onto the naval base showing my shoulders and knees. I wonder if this has anything to do with Saudi allowing foreigners to show their ankles and wrists now. We drive around Amwaj before meeting at the Marina to see how many more buildings can be stacked on the sand before more public beaches can be brought over the causeway.
The dive groups were easy to differentiate — those who spoke English (the two of us) and then the two groups of three guys — one speaking Spanish and the other Arabic. Same boat driver but new divemaster takes us to the newly sunk (three months ago) Boeing 747, stripped of all interior items except a few things in the cockpit and then to Al Boom Wreck to look at a boat that was hauling toilets. Visibility could’ve been better but we still saw plenty of angelfish and jellyfish.
microwave repair.. on the house
This month has come to an end and I don’t mind not having a car even if that means that some of my friends on the island don’t want to hang out. Others have moved internationally, some more regional than others, and a bunch have gotten married and one is expecting his second child. I don’t mind not going out because it means I can save money to travel because even Saudi is open to tourists now.
I started driving at 4:40 am after listening to the service attendant crack jokes and try to charge me for yawning, and the truckers talked about their rigs. Today is my last day on the road before meeting up with Caleb and his family, so I take a direct route to the Virginia border from Knoxville. Once in the state, I stick to the two-lane road for half the distance before getting on the 460, which will deliver me to Hampton Roads. This metropolitan region includes Virginia Beach, Norfolk, Chesapeake, and Newport News.
It’s still 68°F when I stop for a walk at Creekside Park and find myself on the Virginia Creeper Trail, the old Abingdon Branch of the Norfolk and Western line. Here, in Damascus, is one of the six remains of the water tanks that the steam trains required every 40-50 miles. There are only concrete pylons left as the tanks were dismantled after the diesel locomotives were introduced in 1958. Another notable path is the Appalachian Trail, which passes through Main Street, making it a great spot for Trail Days.
This event has been held every year since 1987, the weekend after Mother’s Day (in May), for thru-hikers, trail supporters, and enthusiasts. This town of less than 800 residents provides a place for some 20,000 vendors, hippies, and musicians to gather and celebrate the outdoors and the gear that makes surviving the wilderness more bearable. I feel like a local, being one of the few people along the creek or in town. I get to meet a guy and his three rats, though only two said hi, as rats do.
After this, I climb the 23 stairs and continue climbing over roots and logs towards Iron Mountain on the official AT. The southern terminus is Springer Mountain, GA, so I’m roughly at mile 471. Hiking in the forest is always a great adventure, especially with mushrooms with the names: amethyst deceiver, the sickener, and golden oyster. I see a millipede hiding in the moss, but it’s harder to identify. The Crooked Road is Virginia’s Heritage Music Trail, another for Trail Town USA.
It’s 330 miles of venues and festivals that keep the history of blind balladeer Horton Barker, Sparkplug of The Hill Billies, the Sweet Brothers, the Rugby Gully Jumpers, and the old-time banjoist Jont Blevins alive from when they played in the 1930s. They performed for many venues — the White House, on the streets, at fiddlers’ conventions, and local radio shows. There is an annual competition that supports a scholarship for learning traditional music — old-time mountain, country, and bluegrass.
I pass a groundhog (Marmota monax) which is a species of marmot also called a woodchuck; they are defined as a large, stout-bodied ground squirrel. I also see a Little Free Food Pantry, a community program started in 2016 by Jessica McClard in Arkansas. They have since spread to Canada, Italy, the Netherlands, Australia, and Thailand, with some including a cooler or fridge, a microwave, and others including toiletries, baby products, and pet foods.
Grassroots initiatives can meet the local needs with a speed and personability that big government isn’t structured to provide because they’re better at building highways and hospitals (just not always on time or where they’re needed). Enter, the Blue Ridge Parkway. I stopped at a few views along the way and watched a raccoon cross lanes of traffic and make his way towards a tall field of green before we both carried on. I wish I had hiked there, but that would have put me in Virginia Beach too late.
I stop for more caffeine, a mocha Bang and a coconut water with espresso, to power through three hours on the highway. I get to Kris’s house around dinner time, have salad and pretzel bread, and then the kids, nieces and nephews, have s’mores. We’ll get back to the hotel room that the Navy is paying for hours later as his sister’s family and dad go to a nearby hotel as well. Even though today was long, I’ll stay up longer than necessary.
I take another shower, having taken one last night, and being grateful for the opportunity. I toast the hotel’s English muffin and use my own peanut butter and jelly before continuing east. This morning has me crossing the Mississippi River, where an artist in 1954 had the idea of building the pyramids of Giza at two-thirds their size for their namesake in Egypt. The tenth-tallest pyramid in the world was built in 1991 as a 20,000-seat arena. In 2015, it became a megastore, complete with a hotel, restaurants, a bowling alley, an archery range, and an outdoor observation deck.
I saw the Bass Pro Shops sign, and that was the last I thought about it. Ducks Unlimited operates a museum on waterfowl hunting and wetlands conservation inside the store. This pyramid would’ve been worth the visit, but sometimes the better looking the building, the fewer people allowed in, especially in a room with a view. This is when the adage, “It never hurts to ask,” would have come in handy. Instead, I drove further north up the river to Meeman-Shelby Forest State Park. I avoided the red velvet ants, which sound petworthy, but are also called “cow killer” for their extremely painful sting.
The park is a welcome stop after two-plus hours in the car, but the attack of mosquitoes is always an inconvenience. It just matters what mood I’m in, how much I want to be stung, since I know I’m in their territory and yet refuse to wear deterrent spray. There are more hiding in the car from last night as I make my way back to Memphis. I got lucky at one intersection because of a faded sign from another direction, but I’m approaching a stop sign and get lucky enough to stop a girl in her truck with my lost-looking face, who asks which way I’m going.
I respond, any direction that doesn’t have me living in this neighborhood. She smiled, told me a right at the stop sign, and then a left at the next one. Thank you. This led me past Overton Park, where an eight-foot-tall bronze monument of E.H. “Boss” Crump was erected to honor his significant role in Memphis politics. I continue on to the Memphis Brooks Museum of Art, where the current exhibit, Brooks Outside: Outings Project, takes painted characters and puts them on façades around the city. Casabianca has installed his paper murals in over 50 cities, with their museums as the inspiration.
I could have looked for the twenty pieces in Memphis, but I chose a list of historic houses that the lady behind the counter was kind enough to print out. I drive by slowly, like I’m in a parade, waving to some folks as I take pictures of houses with a porch swing, lion statues, fireplaces, and golf course-like yards. They are at least two stories and built mostly in Tudor Revival, Queen Anne Victorian, and English Gothic styles, which explains their ornate designs. The Annesdale Park Subdivision was the first in the South to be planned upon metropolitan lines (for urban growth) in 1903.
I let the idea of one day living in a house with stained-glass windows carry me through the morning. It helped that no neighbor’s dwelling looked like the other, unlike many an apartment or high-rise in dense city living. I’m glad I’ve not had to live near the chaos that is downtown in any of the states I’ve called home. In Bahrain, we lived near American Alley, where parades and parties were the norm on holidays, weddings, and home team wins. By the time I reached the Pink Palace Museum and Planetarium, a building that appears to be at least three (large, historical) houses combined, I was hungry.
Clarence Saunders, the founder of Piggly Wiggly, started construction in 1922. The building was incomplete when he went bankrupt in 1928, and developers gave it to the city. It became the Museum of Natural History in 1930. It was renamed in 1967. I detoured around a very slow train and found myself at The Four Way Soul Food, named after the four-way traffic intersection. The church bus was still unloading, and these three guys decided to eat elsewhere, but Stein’s didn’t look as good. Now, I’m wondering as I eat soul fast food if I made the right decision.
The green beans were fine, the cabbage and black-eyed peas delicious, but the okra wasn’t cooked right, and the cornbread came from the cheapest box. Oh well, that’s Memphis, and after my zig-zag route through the city, it’s time to refuel. The first station I stopped at wouldn’t let me pump with a card or cash, so I went across the street. I turned onto the 70 and stopped at a gas station for caffeine and childhood treats – Star Crunch and Nutty Buddy. There is a lady selling watermelon from her car. I told her I don’t have a way to open it, and she said I could drop it on the ground like her sample.
Cypress Grove Nature Park, outside Jackson, TN, is popular with the locals, each bringing their four kids, but it’s too close to the highway for maximum peacefulness. The boardwalk is nice, but part of it is closed off. I take in the calm that standing among trees brings and head off to Montgomery Bell State Park. Here, the local cross-country team, along with some parents, is taking advantage of the weather to get in a workout as one couple does some speed walking checking for stragglers. The shade and the breeze under the trees, the kind of beauty that makes you fall to your knees in love.
I step over roots and pass by their trees, remnants of giants standing taller than me. My skin so sweet and that warm blood inside attracts all the bugs to bite at my feet. Swollen they may get, I’m stubborn to put on shoes so I can feel the grass on my toes. The bugs may irritate me but that won’t keep me from appreciating the million little things that go right every day so that I may walk and breath, the sun rise and the trees grow. How lucky I am that I may share some joy with others. I feel inspired here amongst the fallen trees and the spiderweb glistening in the evening sun.
I drive to the outskirts of Knoxville with a full moon that would do just as well to light my way as the bright sun seemingly minutes ago, if not for headlights and road reflectors. This would be a good night to ride a bike on an open lane with no traffic. I passed through the time change and didn’t notice until I saw a bank sign while I was getting gas. I will decide in the morning whether I will drive through Kentucky or North Carolina to get to Virginia, or just approach directly.
TheJessicaness 