Tash and I woke up at 11:00 a.m. both craving eggs. We got packed and dressed and set out to find food. We had seen a place not far from the hotel that looked promising, but it was closed.We walked around for about an hour searching for an American breakfast, but no luck, we finally settled on the Hard Rock cafe, where she had a salad and I had a BLT. In the bathroom of the restaurant there was a sign that said “No drugs and no nuclear weapons.” Luckily I had left my nuke in my other purse, so I was clear to use the toilet.

After lunch we headed back to the hotel from hell to catch a cab to the airport. We really didn’t have anytime to do anything at all on the third day, but I felt since we had taken advantage of both days and nights the previous day it was o.k.

On the plane home as I was frantically scribbling notes so I could write about our experience, a pleasant voice interupted me.

“Are you writing about your trip?” she inquired. She was fairly tall with straight brown hair and she was wearing a white skirt and a red and white top. When I confirmed that I was writing about our trip, she nudged her husband and said, “We should do that.”

I told her I was an aspiring writer and I had just finished my first book. She introduced herself as Ali and her husband as Les, he works in oil and they are both Canadians. We started talking and Ali invited us to their end of Eid barbeque the next day. I’m looking forward to it, it will be nice to meet some people in Kuwait.

Where to stay inexpensively in Bahrain:

City Centre Hotel – 30 BHD a night approximately $65.00
www.city-centre-hotel.com
cchotel@batelco.com.bh
17-22-99-79

Bahrain International Hotel 30 BHD a night approximately $65.00
www.bahrainhotel.com
byhot@batelco.com.bh
17-21-13-13

The Best Western
www.bestwesternjuffair.com
info@bestwesternjuffair.com
973-17-827600

Where to go:

The souk which is right behind City Centre Hotel

The Marina Club

JJs English Pub

Laialy Zaman – Sheeshaw place which is right near the Marina Club, and although we didn’t make it there, there is a place that serves American breakfast called Ken’s.

Day 2

I woke up at 8:00 a.m. and went back to bed. I woke up at 10:30 a.m. and Tash was still asleep and I didn’t have the heart to wake her up, so I went back to bed. I work up at noon and gently nudged her.

“Wake up,” she begged for more sleep and her clock is so funky, I took pity on her. She slept until 2 p.m. while I napped, wrote notes and read my book.

We threw on our swimsuits, because Tash wanted to board, but we got there and just lay on the bench. Ken a Brit we had met the day before asked if he could join us. He was the rarity in Bahrain a really nice, fun guy. I was starving because I hadn’t eaten since 11:00 p.m. the night before so I immediately ordered food. We lay there on the beach taking in the rays and hanging out. Just as the sun started to go down I roused myself to get in the water, after all I couldn’t be in Bahrain and not test out the water.

I got out and dried off and then Tash convinced me that I should go in with her, so as the sunset on Bahrain I went into the water one last time. We got out and jumped in the pool to rinse ourselves off, we were already being consistently mistaken for sides of beef I didn’t want someone to mistake me for a salt lick.

I showed Tash some of the games that Mark, my brother, and I used to play in our pool and Tash told me that she used to be a swimmer. She admitted that she wasn’t very good at it and she and this other girl always had to race because they were close to each other’s level – and she still lost. She laughed as she told the story, her true talent is dancing, she was a ballerina.

We had brought clothes to change into, but in the dressing room, only a trickle of water came out of the shower. It was funny watching Tash jump around underneath it trying to get wet. After showering under the drip, we headed back to the Sheeshaw bar for a melon Sheeshaw. I ate Schwarma and we talked for three hours. She told me her family’s story, talked about living in NY, being a ballerina, losing her Mom. I told her about my crash how I wanted so badly to work internationally and how I wished I’d been able to go when I was her age and I talked about my family. It’s just her and her Dad. And for me it’s Mark, Mom, and me but then I have a huge extended family.

We didn’t make it out to JJ’s an English pub until 11:50 p.m. I told Tash that I would be on my best behavior, she laughed and said it was nice for once not to have be the one who takes care of things.

As we entered the bar the group of English jerks that we had encountered the previous night were there on the left. I didn’t even acknowledge that I had seen them. We ended up sitting in a corner with a group of Bahrainis, after meeting them I could count 5 that I had met.

As fun dance music pounded through the bar, Tash and I got up and danced with anyone and everyone. There was an older woman who asked me where I was from, I told her Portland, Oregon, but that I live in Kuwait. She told me her name was Tonya and she lived in Kuwait also and gave me her contact information. She also shared that she was out with her girlfriends because their husband’s were being sticks in the mud. So, Jesus, a tall, attractive well-built black man took them all out. He was a ton of fun to dance with. He told me he was born in LA and grew up in Germany.

Standing at the bar the young attractive blond Englishman that had started with me last night came up behind me. I turned around and was startled to run into him. I smiled and asked, “Has your French improved?” He looked confused; he obviously wasn’t the brightest bulb in the batch.

Tash was easily the prettiest girl in the bar and as we were out dancing I could see the Englishmen who had been such jerks eyeing her. The young blond, who started it and I had encountered at the bar tried to talk to her. I gave her the eyeball that said, that’s them and she cut off the conversation. He looked very disappointed; maybe he’ll learn some manners.

Ken had come into JJs around 1:00 p.m. to tell us they were in the Phillipino bar next door. At 2:00 p.m. the last song played, “It’s closing time,” and I danced with Jesus. He was swing dancing with me and usually I’m pretty good, but I guess I dance best with Kari.

After JJs closed we headed to the Phillipino bar to meet Ken. Ken and his friends Richard and Aaron were sharing a table with a man who was either fast asleep or passed out. That bar closed a half an hour later and we headed back to Richard’s for wine and conversation. We all crammed in a cab and the driver said he couldn’t take us because there were too many of us. Aaron started getting annoyed and kept saying, “Just take us.” Finally, we crammed into different cab.

Richard had a very nice flat. We got there and I sat down on the couch between Tash and Aaron. Aaron moved as far away as possible, to the other couch as if I physically repulsed him.

I’m not sure how it started, but the upcoming American election came up and Ken and Richard started talking about how Hillary was going to win. And then Aaron starting going off on how Americans are the scourge of the earth and we are all horrible human beings. He was trying to pick a fight with me.

Tash looked at me and said “I can’t believe how calm you are, he’s pissing me off,” I laughed. And Tash said to Aaron, “Don’t be a hater.”

“I know Americans are dumb enough to judge an entire country by its government, but I didn’t think the English were that stupid,” I remarked. I asked him how he could hate me, he didn’t even know me and at one point and time he admitted that he had been raised to hate Americans. He kept on trying to get me to fight, but I just wasn’t in the mood and I kept telling how I understood why he might hate Americans and it was o.k. he could hate me. After about a half an hour of him trying to engage me, he attacked my work, my country, my beliefs, anything and everything and me refusing to be engaged, Tash, Richard, Ken and I moved the conversation to other topics. Richard kept on saying just ignore him he’s young – 23.

It was like talking to a narrow-minded American and I told him that at this point and time he was actually being more American than I was. He scoffed at the idea.

I don’t know when it happened, but Aaron came over and he took me by the hand and he led me to the dining room table and sat me down and started to talk to me. We talked about my family, the books I like to read, religion, he’s an atheist, and a couple of time to my answers he said, “You sound so fucking American!” with a smile on his face. My response, I am American. And I’m proud to be American. He asked to name one good thing that Americans had done, I was too tired to rack my brain and figured when I blogged about this my friends would come up with all the contributions America has made to global society. So let’s hear them guys.

He tipped his head toward Tash and I started talking about how incredible she is and he admitted, “I thought she was just another blond, stupid American.” “Well you’re wrong,” I said. “First of all she’s not even American,” he looked surprised. “She has three nationalities Canadian, German and South African.”

Our greatest failure as a global community is that we teach our children to hate based on religion, skin color, nationality, external characteristics that reveal nothing about the content of a person’s character.

He was 6’ 3 and thin with thick blond hair and blue eyes that peeked out from lazy lids. He had a bit of the dull English look, and a crooked smile, that for more than half the evening he tried not to reveal. He pulled me up from my chair and placing his right hand in the small of my back and taking my right hand in his left he started slow dancing with me.

“Send me the name of the organization you work for and I will make a $1,000 donation to it,” he said. I felt like he was trying to buy me off, but I went along with it and agreed to do it. I asked him to send me the names of books that he had talked about. We exchanged e-mail and he pulled me back into a dance, I don’t even remember if there was music. He had told me that all Americans were spoiled, rotten brats, and here he was working in Bahrain, had enough money that he could drop $1,000 on MC without blinking an eye and was getting ready to spend a month in Italy. I felt like he was guilty of being just like what he thought Americans were like. I’ve never lived a life like that where I could crop a $1,000 without blinking an eye and cruise off to Italy for a month. I think he comes from a privileged family.

At around 4:00 in the morning after much talk and a lot of dancing he placed my right hand on his chest and covered it with his own. He then leaned down and gently kissed me goodnight. And then my hater walked out the door.

Ken had invited us to breakfast, but Tash and I were both cashed. As we came back into our hotel, a man in a dishdashah tried to get on the elevator with us, but we dodged him. As we got to the door of our room, there were 3 or 4 men, I think they were Saudi Arabian in their pajamas in the hallway saying come here, come, come. They were about 20 feet away and Tash was having difficulty with the door and as they started moving toward us I said, “Hurry up, hurry up.”

She got the door open and we practically fell into our room, slammed and locked it behind us.

And fell into bed.

Day 1

Nathalie, my newest co-worker and partner in crime and I arrived in Bahrain at 8:00 a.m. We got to the hotel around 8:30 a.m. and there seemed to be a problem with our room. We had booked online and they said they didn’t do bookings online. They asked who confirmed the reservation, we didn’t know so we sat there and waited. I played bad cop and Nathalie played good cop, but the woman behind the desk was so stupid she had no idea that the lump three feet above her ass actually contains a brain that is used for thinking.

The Kingdom of Bahrain is a borderless island country in the Persian Gulf and the smallest Arab state. It is a 20-minute plane ride from Kuwait. The official religion of Bahrain is Muslim. It receives more than 2 million tourists a year and it has an American Naval Base and a hopping nightlife, probably due to the fact that it is not a dry country.

After waiting and waiting at the hotel and we tried everything, getting angry, acting pathetic, claiming medical issues. Finally, we called the online booking service that said they would take care of it – we went into the bar to wait. I think it was the first time in my life I’ve started drinking at 10:00 a.m. We sat there and ate pumpkin seeds, drank gin and tonics and watched our time in Bahrain tick away. Finally at 11:00 am two and a half hours later they confirmed our room. Idiots! But it was just in the nick of time, this Saudi Arabian man had just bought us drinks and asked if he could join us at our table, we said yes, but I was a terrible girlfriend. I had to go to the bathroom and I deserted Nathalie (“Tash”). She said that he kept drawing a circle around her face and saying, “This good.”

She said she was relieved when they came in and said we had a room. I had been a bit worried and I felt the room situation didn’t bode well for our trip. So, just a note of caution – if you ever go to Bahrain do not stay at the Al Commodore, it is a hotel that caters to Saudi Arabians and the people who work there are incompetent to say the least. We only had one towel and even after asking several times had to steal extras from the cart, they didn’t clean our room once in the three days that we stayed there, not to mention we were accosted by Saudi Arabians in their pajamas.

When I booked the hotel it said close to downtown, well it wasn’t really, but it’s a small city and a small island so pretty much everything is close. We started walking toward City Center and as we meandered our way downtown the streets started to look European. We also passed a beautiful mosque.

After walking a ways we were hot and sweaty, turning the corner we saw Starbucks and headed for the cool oasis.

At Starbucks we met two Americans, Shervin and Matt, Matt had been wearing a Georgetown shirt and Tash, a Georgetown graduate approached him about information on Bahrain. They told us about a couple of good restaurants and some nightlife and also shared that the next day the Grand Mosque was open to heathens.

“Heathens?” Tash and I both looked puzzled until Shervin explained that, the sign specifically indicated that tomorrow heathens would be welcome. I wish I had gotten a picture of it. Both of them were working at the Georgetown campus in Doha, Matt in Human Resources and Shervin on his PhD. He is an Iranian American and studying the education system in Iran.

We left Starbucks to check out the City Centre hotel, I wanted to be prepared just in case we decided to ever go back. It was clean, looked like it had a great restaurant and they actually knew what the Internet was – around $75 a night depending on the time of year. We stopped in at a couple of other hotels to check prices and location. Then we stumbled in the souk or market. A lot of the shops were closed because it was a holiday, but there were still plenty of shops open, selling a ton of ketch. Dancing camels, mosque alarm clocks that play the andan, (call to prayer) and clothes all with a ton of bling, finding shirts that don’t have sequins, or beads or jewels is a major accomplishment in the Middle East. The women here love their bling. I was looking for longer shirts and I tried a couple of the less sparkly ones on, but it was still too much.

We decided the next day that we were going to the beach in the morning and the souk at night, so we decided to check out the beaches and ended up cabbing it to the Marina Club. When we got there they wanted 2 dinars to get in, but we really just wanted to check it out so we begged for 20 minutes just to look around and the guard granted it.

It was a small private beach and we hadn’t brought our swimsuits so we sat down for a drink. I talked briefly with a guy from England down from Saudi for the weekend who was getting ready to do some jet skiing and then a young 20 something Bahraini started gearing up to go wake boarding and I started talking to him. He was going out with his friend Sujay, from Indian who worked at the club and they invited us to go out with them. We were out on the boat watching Surad wakeboard and our 20 minutes was long gone. We asked about a Hookah bar that we wanted to check out, but Sujay said he would drop us at a better one, so we never ended up going back out through the gatehouse.

Sujay dropped us at Laialy Zaman we sat on a terrace on cushioned benches with a Sheeshaw or Hooka as some people call it, ate dinner and were entertained by a feral mama kitty and her kittens. As the sun went down a soft glow settled over the terrace due to pottery lamps with intricate flower designs that let light escape. We sat there and talked for hours, Tash has lived a fascinating, if not sometimes difficult life. I really admire her she is beautiful on the outside and the inside. Leaving the bar long after it was dark we made our way back to Hotel Hell to prepare for our foray into the Bahrain nightlife.

We ended up showering and laying on our beds in our towels and reading for several hours before we finally stirred ourselves, I think around 11 p.m. to venture out.

The first place we went was Rock Bottom. The clientele was mainly young American GIs and Phillipino prostitutes. Although they were young they looked like they had been ridden hard and wrung out, but the guys liked them. For the most part the GIs,

which stands for Government Issue, were very respectful to us. However one youngster came up to Tash and said, my friend and I have this game we play. He picks someone out of the room and I’m supposed to come up and introduce myself. Tash was much more tolerant than I would have been, shook his hand and introduced herself. I think he was maybe 23. Then we were trying to get drinks the bar tender had talked us into a shot called a fireball. It is some type of liquor that he lights on fire and then pours into your mouth. As it runs into your mouth it looks like you are breathing fire. In the middle of this, the GI comes back and says sheepishly, I got the game wrong, I’m actually supposed to ask you to introduce yourself to my friend. Idiot. But once again Tash was very gracious and she went and introduced herself to his friend who was either stoned or mute. By that time we decided we had enough military green and we sequestered ourselves in a corner and ordered shrimp stuffed avocado. It was delicious.

After checking out the upstairs we left to try and find JJs an English pub. We asked directions, but the people we asked were directionally impaired. However as we were wandering around lost we found this great little market. Tash immediately started checking out the rice crackers, she is obsessed with them, but it’s an endearing quality about her. Leaving the market we headed toward back in the direction we had come from, but on a different street. Walking along almost every single car honked at us. Being blond in the Arab world means enduring a log ogling. They look you up and down as if they are considering purchasing a particularly delectable side of beef. Shervin said that part of the problem is that the only view they have of American women comes from pornography and the movies, which is where they get their information about American women. That’s part of the problem; the other part is how they view women in general.

As we approached the Best Western there was an African man speaking French on his cell phone. I looked at him because he was speaking French. He got off his cell phone and said in English, “Hey baby.” I gave him my best disdainful look and said in French, “I’m not your baby!” in a tone that I hoped conveyed eat shit and die.

He looked surprised and said, “You speak French?” I replied, “Yes, but not with assholes.”

“Come here,” he grabbed at me. I pulled away and said, “Don’t touch me!” This exchange were I used every single degrading word I knew in French was observed by a group of rag tag looking men, they looked like they might be Eastern European. We entered the Best Western to ask directions to JJs.

As we were standing at the counter, a large African American leaned into our space, after being ogled and pawed at I turned around startled. He put his hands up the air as if to say, “Don’t shoot,” and then said “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get in your personal space.” He seemed nice enough so I admitted to him I was a little jumpy due to all testosterone in the air.

We introduced ourselves his name was Anthony and he was stationed at the Naval Air Base in Bahrain. We found out JJs was a 10 minute cab ride away so we decided to check out the bar in the Best Western, The Wrangler. Anthony asked if he could join us, he seemed nice enough so we said yes. Unfortunately, it was 2 a.m. and it was closing so instead we headed outside.

On the front steps I turned at the sound of someone addressing me in French, but I couldn’t understand it. It was one of the rag tag group of men who I thought were from Eastern Europe. I asked him, “Do you speak French?” He said, “No, but he does,” and pointed to a young blond that was fairly attractive. I asked him if he spoke French and he said no. I asked him what language the other kid had been speaking and he said English. “Where are you from?” “England,” was the reply. At first I thought they were just being friendly, but it seemed like they were toying with me like a cat plays with a stuffed mouse, so I turned my back on them.

A bald guy in the group, with a face that maybe a mother could love and who looked like he was a 20th generation miner who had spent too much time in the hole, made a lewd comment.

I turned around slowly and looking him up and down like he was a particularly disgusting insect I said, “I know that Arab men are complete assholes, but I thought the English would at least have manners.”

He grabbed his crotch, started jumping up and down as if he were trying to lengthen his dick, under the false impression that the size of his member was an indication of his manhood and started yelling “Fucking Americans!” over and over again.

I turned and looked at him again as if he were the foulest thing I had ever laid eyes on and said, “Didn’t we conquer your country 50 years ago?” and laughed in his face. He moved toward me screaming “Fucking Americans!” but I didn’t budge an inch. His friends dragged him across the road, as he screamed the same obscenity over and over again and I just sat there and smiled. Finally his friends got his ugly bald ass into a cab and the glass muffled his shouts.

In the meantime, Anthony the American we had met, who seemed harmless is doing everything he can to touch me. Wiping sweat off my forehead, tapping my shoulder and trying to keep my attention when what I’m really interested in is tromping what is left of the pathetic English prick’s manhood into dust. He is creeping me out and I want nothing more than to be away from anything male. I turn around to find Tash, talking with Matt and Shervin and I move gratefully into their circle and after about 15 minutes, Anthony the octopus gives up and moves on.

It is 2:30 in the morning and Tash is wide-awake because she had a cup of coffee about an hour ago. We are standing in front of the Best Western talking with Matt and Shervin, trying to decide what to do and where to go, when we discover that everything closes at 2 a.m. Shervin and Matt invite us to hang out either by the pool or in their room with a bottle of vodka and cranberry juice.

Because of the coffee Tash is going to be up for at least two more hours. I on the other hand after walking all day and being on my feet could probably fall straight asleep. We take them up on their offer; because going back to the room and me trying to sleep while Tash is hyped up on coffee doesn’t seem like a viable option.

Three hours passes with talk about our experiences in Kuwait with the Iraq program, Shervin’s experiences in Iran and Matt’s in Doha. Shervin and Matt apologize profusely for suggesting the Rock Bottom, it turns out they had gone there also and had observed some meathead GI behavior.

“Like what?” I asked.

“We were in the elevator with a group of GIs and every time an Arab got on they would say, ‘What’s up Dude!’ It was very disrespectful and embarrassing to be an American,” Shervin said. He commented that this was America’s face to the world in the middle east and we all just shook are heads on that sad statement.

Not every GI is uneducated, but I’ve heard from several sources that a lot of them come from the south, have prejudices against the Arabs and this is their first time aboard.

We talked and talked and talked. About the programs Tash and I are trying to implement in Iraq, the movie “Murderball” and the difference between Iraq and Iran. At the risk of sounding like a dumb American I was not aware that Iran is not Arab, it is Persian and they speak Farsi. In Afghanistan they are also Persian and speak Farsi. Shervin is an American of Iranian decent and he told us that Iranians shun and despise being related to any behavior that is Arab.

He spoke of the misconceptions that Americans have about Iran. Informed us that Iran has a well-educated middle class that does not buy into the government rhetoric and about women who are highly educated.

We made it back to our hotel at 6 a.m. in the morning.

Kuwait City 2

Originally uploaded by The Toze

I have difficulty communicating with Senait so I never know when I’m going to be invited to hang. They told me that there Ambassador to Kuwait was coming to visit them next week and ask me if I would give a seminar. I felt panicked like — ahhhhhhhhhh—what am I going to talk about, but felt like I couldn’t say no.

At the beginning of the week I felt like it wasn’t going to happen so I felt relieved and then just to be on the safe side I came up with a short presentation. It was Friday night and I kept waiting and waiting to hear from Senait, finally it was 8:30 p.m. and I hadn’t heard from her so I put my pajamas on, as soon as I got my pajamas on the phone rang. They were running late, so I dressed nicely, after all I was going to meet the Ambassador and limped downstairs. Senait pulled up in a different car and the driver was Mohammad an 18 year-old who looks very Arabic, as opposed to Senait who looks very African.

She said that we were late and the ambassador was already there. I felt my stomach tighten, I thought I’m going to have to go in there and perform. But when I arrived they took me into an air conditioned office and a man with medium height, with a receding hairline and serious expression was sitting on the couch. He wore a grey outfit and the top was a light zip-up long sleeve shirt, it looked a little militaristic. Next to him sat a young boy, with Arab features, the ambassador had more African features, it was his eldest son who is 18.

Salah introduced me to The Ambassador of the State of Eritrea to the State of Kuwait mahoud Omar Chirum.

“Mr. Ambassador, I’m very pleased to meet you,” thank goodness I knew how to address an ambassador. His English was very good and he has been the ambassador to Kuwait for two months. His son also speaks English and is a basketball player. I asked questions about his family, four children and his country, how things are going to which he replied well. He talked about the UN forces in the disputed zone and I talked to his son about basketball. I had brought photos from home, so I shared those. Finally, they said they were ready for us.

I shared information about myself, where I come from, what I’m doing in Kuwait, talked about things they may think about America that simply aren’t true and fielded questions. Then the Ambassador encourage the young group to tell me about the Eritrean women.

They told me that during the conflicts the Eritrean woman not only fought side-by-side with the men, but still had the burden of the household. They were fiercely proud of their women and how they had coped during the war.

After some back and forth discussion refreshments were served. It wasn’t as fun as last time because they made the coffee outside and then brought it in and there was an air of formality to it. They served bread that was filled and shortbread cookies. As we sat and talked in small groups, different people came up to speak directly to the Ambassador. He listened intently to each of them. Salam was talking to him rather intently and someone translated, he was talking about a camping trip out in the desert.

Seham, a 22 year-old Eritrean woman, sat next to me. She speaks broken English, she had worked at our office filling in for Senait when she went back to Eritrea. She was looking at the pictures I brought and stopped on one when I was 27, she pointed to it and she said,
“Here very beautiful, now,” she said moving her hand around her face, “old.”

I burst out laughing. I don’t think I look that old, but on the other hand white skin is not known for its aging abilities and maybe it’s the stress of the last month. The Ambassador finally took his leave and we moved outside. The evenings have become fairly pleasant in Kuwait, we sat in a circle and talked. There was a lot of joking going on and they kept calling each other Habibi which means “my love,” Jordanos, named for the Jordan river and the woman who made the coffee last week is married with a daughter. She and her husband live here and their daughter is in Eritrea with her grandmother. She kept teasing Salam, who is 32, tall extremely thin and dark. He looks very African. She kept saying “come sit next to me.”

And he wouldn’t. I made a chicken noise and everyone burst out laughing. Then I went over and sat on Jordanos’ lap and gave her a hug. I love how they tease each other.

Sofia, finally got there, I don’t know why she was so late, but she was wearing brown pants and beautiful flowing shirt with large flowers on it that went down over the top of her pants, ending at the top of her thigh. Her scarf was also brown and cascaded down to the middle of her back.

As we sat in the courtyard, music drifted out from the back billard room, I can’t describe it, it had a consistent beat with rhythems that moved up and down. One of the groups was Eritrean, the other was Sudanese and they were practicing for one of the Eritrean’s weddings that will take place soon. They introduced me to the groom to be and of course he invited me to the wedding. I hope I’m here!

All the young people were dancing and singing along, Sofia was a very good dancer, finally she got me to dance with her. It really is true that white people don’t have rhyhem, I did o.k. After the musicians left we went back out to the courtyard and we were hanging around joking when low and behold at 2:00 a.m. they decided to call it a night. I was excited to go home before 4:00 p.m. But we didn’t go straight home, since it is Ramadan and the Muslims are fasting, we went to a chicken restaurant and ate.

First they wouldn’t let me pay for my food and then they kept on feeding me their food. By the time it was over I was stuffed. They are truly generous people and I love their community. I’m so glad I met Senait.

The one bummer of the night was that I didn’t take my camera. ARRRGGHHH. Next time.

Below is the view from the walking path along the gulf road.