Bahraini Confessional

The H4: Oil sheiks have so much money, they use it as a planter.


Today was a good day, and a bad day.

The Good:
Three great visits, to schools catering to natives Bahrainis and other Gulf residents (not-expats). We were all way busier at every school than we thought we would be. At the first I went through materials like crazy, at the second I tried to be stingy, at the third I was just out and told kids I'd send them stuff later. I really felt like I did a great job today, not just representing my university, but representing the USA in general. If I get some apps out of it, even better.

Back at the hotel I took a much needed nap, then logged on and started doing yet more catch-up work. I went through my interest cards and made spreadsheets of students and their e-mails by country and event. Then I started sending them follow-up e-mails. At 8pm I met some other reps at a nearby Indian restaurant for dinner (as if I won't get enough Indian food in the next few weeks). Then I came back to my room, opened my bottle of Lebanese wine, and did more e-mail.


Baggage fiasco: that ain't fitt'n in the back of that truck. We ended up hiring two extra cabs, for luggage.

The Bad:
As I finished my mail and wine (it was a half-bottle), Hani knocked on the door. We had agreed to hit the town together, as tomorrow is the first day we have nothing to wake up for. Let me say this now: hanging out with Hani is not bad. That is not what I mean. Hani is a good guy to sit and talk with, just check out his blog.
What I mean is that I did not enjoy the going out - at all. I must be getting old, or mature, or something. But, at the same time I think that, I realize that I have hated the whole "going out" scene for a long, long time. This is coming from someone who has been a patron, bouncer, barback, bartender, and manager of a bar. Familiarity breeds contempt? And if I hate it, why do I feel compelled to still do it? I don't know. I do know that I feel more comfortable working at a bar than frequenting it. I prefer being an observer. Now that I have my "real" job, I'm stuck on the wrong side. I'm thinking it's time to throw in the towel. I gave up TV, why not going out? Another thing I know is that I enjoyed cataloging my student contacts more than I did exploring the local social scene. Ugh. Here are some more pics:


Early AM: Leaving Oman


Construction of the Bahrain World Trade Center. Deja vu anyone?

BAM! : Beirut, Amman, Muscat

Ah, my club sandwich from room service showed up just as I sat down to write. Now I shall much on French fries and type with greasy fingers. Notes:
1) Internet in the Middle East is spotty, and where available often very expensive. Therefore my posts may be sporadic.
2) Yes, there was a bombing in Beirut while I was there. I was in my hotel when it happened, and wouldn’t have known until the morning, except I had CNN on while I was packing. I still love that city.
3) The pics I promised last post will be spread throughout this entry, often where not related, just to break them up. They are of Baalbek, an amazing Roman site in the Bekaa Valley of the interior of Lebanon. The first of these:

Last time I visited Beirut I went on and on about how much I liked it, so I will try not to repeat myself too much. I will try to be creative and/or specific with my praise.



For instance, I am infatuated with city-states. I always have been. I can remember in middle school, high school, and college being fascinated by ancient Greece and all of its distinct, unique little units; by Renaissance Italy and its scheming, warring neighbors; and by the bewildering mess of pre-unification German principalities and whatnot (Prussia kicked ass!). Even today, I admire the modern-day anachronistic holdouts of Europe like Andorra, Luxembourg, San Marino, and the Vatican.



In the Middle East however, the city-state is alive and well: Lebanon, Kuwait, Qatar, Bahrain, and the Emirates (all seven). One could even argue that Israel and Jordan are city-states of a sort. There are bite-sized countries, perfect for getting to know in a short period of time. They are intimate and have cohesive personalities, rather than wide varieties in character due to regionalisms. This is not to say they are not complex – just look at Lebanon and Israel. Careers and lifetimes have been spent on studying and trying to figure out these tiny nations. Enough rambling on this tangent…


Notice the people, bottom right, for scale

An illustration of why I am infatuated with Lebanese women, namely, a prospective grad student taking my card at the fair in Beirut:

“This is your name? J----? Mine is Mira.”

“Mira? That sounds Spanish.”

“Yes, I know. It means look. I am nice to look at, yes?”


Those pillars, one more time

The embassy guys offered to take us out on the town after the fair, but we had to decline. Our flight is early (woke at 5am to catch it) and there is much packing to do. Like I said earlier, it was during this packing that I heard about the bombing. Still, no problems leaving in the morning.



Next stop was Amman, Jordan. Jordan has some very cool sites, primarily Petra (you know, the Indiana Jones grail-temple in the final movie), and Jerash (Roman site in the north). I saw both of these on a foreign study trip in college. No time for that this go-round. Our schedule of events started just a couple of hours after we checked in. I thought the fair would be as sleepy as Amman is. No way. It was a tidal wave of students. I think I’ll get some good apps from here.

After the fair a few of us went down the street to a sandwich shop that was open late. Chicken schwarma to die for, cheap. To bed.

The next morning we had to check out before making our school visits, because we would not be going back to the hotel. Had to leave one tour member behind because she was sick (she met us later at the airport). School visits were good. Had a traditional buffet lunch before hitting the airport again: lots of lamb, olives, and hummus.

Erectile Dysfunction (heh, heh)

A bird grazed me with poop as we entered the airport. Another guy got hit hard. It was ugly. Airport pigeons suck.

Inside the Temple of Bacchus

We arrived at Amman airport at 4pm. We did not finish checking into our hotel in Muscat, Oman until 2am. This is why I awoke at 9:20am this morning. We were supposed to get on the bus for a school visit at 9:30. You have never seen a man dress and pack promotional materials so fast.

On the way to Baalbek

The school visit was great (glad I made the bus). I raved about this place on the blog last time around. Sharp, sharp ex-pat kids. I really want to get a couple to my university. Mike, who was set-up next to me, got a good picture of me talking to a very animated Irish/Venezuelan girl. I'll have to get it from him.

Back at the hotel, we had a couple hours to kill before the fair. I went for a 3 mile run on the beach. It felt good to almost kill myself again. The heat was absurd. The only thing that spared me was a good stiff breeze off the Indian Ocean. Back, I jumped in the pool for a bit, then went back to my room for room service lunch and a little computer work.

The fair: steady but nowhere near as hectic as the last two. Now I'm going to try to take care of some email and hit the sack.



That is a cross-section of a fallen pillar that I am stretching my 6'3'' body across. Romans = Bad Ass Ancient Engineers