Tolerance

I've been sorting through my holiday pictures and wanted to share these with you. They were taken at Bahrain airport just before Christmas and, to me, represent all that is good about this tiny Gulf kingdom.

Political correctness in the UK seems intent on stifling the Christmas spirit. Cards sent in December should now read "Festive Greetings" rather than "Merry Christmas" and people are asked by their local councils to tone down Christmas lights on their houses for fear of offending neighbours of other religions.

Yet here in Bahrain, a Muslim country, it appears the Christmas spirit is alive and well. The lady in the picture below was clapping along to "Jingle Bells" with her toddler and loving it.

And why not? I love learning about other cultures and religions, and so do my kids. It helps promote tolerance and understanding.

Bahrain has residents of many ethnic backgrounds and I have found people here are generally inquisitive about the differences between them rather than wary and mistrusting.

Yes, as residents we are expected to observe certain rules, particularly during Muslim religious festivals, but in return we are allowed freely to celebrate our own festivals, such as Christmas and Easter, whether that be through putting up decorations at school, performing plays at church or organising carol singing or Easter egg hunts.

All of which goes to show it is possible for a country to have a strong religious and cultural identity and yet still be tolerant and accepting of others.

The Return

I can't believe I haven't blogged for a whole month. My excuses: Christmas, overseas travel, scant internet access and, for the last two weeks, a total preoccupation with baggage tracing.

Let me explain the baggage tracing bit. We left Bahrain in mid-December for a Christmas trip to the UK and a week of skiing in France. All went swimmingly until we left the slopes for Geneva to catch the first of our flights home. The following few days went something like this:

Geneva airport, January 3rd: arrive 3 hours before departure time for Swiss Air flight to London Heathrow via Zurich.

Check in 3 bags, 1 ski boot bag and 1 pair of skis (belonging to my sister who will meet us at Heathrow to collect them).

Airport manic due to it being busiest day of the year and the baggage handlers having been on strike. Spend nearly 2 hours in queues for check-in and security.

Most flights delayed due to snow throughout Europe. Flight to Zurich leaves over an hour late. No-one can tell us if we will make our connection to London.

Zurich airport, January 3rd: arrive to find London flight has left without us - one of the only ones to leave on time that day. Bummer. Join massive economy class queue at transfer desk to be put on another London flight.

Told no seats on any flight to London from anywhere in Europe that day. Busiest day of the year. First on wait-list for next London flight.

Wait. Wait some more. Drink some really bad coffee. Go to gate.

Told by attendant we are no chance as we are a family of four. Then see him hand boarding passes to a family of four also on wait-list. Restrain husband from decking smarmy attendant. Go back to transfer desk.

Economy queue even bigger than before. Wait. Wait some more. Restrain narky children from decking each other. Get wait-listed for next flight to London.

Wait. Wait some more. Go to gate. Get told we are no chance as we are a family of four. Jealously watch passengers board.

We have missed our connection to Bahrain. No seats now until January 6th.

Return to transfer desk. Even longer economy queue. Bolshy husband marches up to first class desk and demands hotel for night and flight to London for the morning. I cower. He succeeds.

Spend night in airport hotel.

Luckily I'd packed our toothbrushes in our handluggage.

Zurich airport, January 4th: Board flight to London. Blithely assume our luggage does too.

Arrive London. Luggage does not. Neither does that of most others on the flight.

Stand in long queue to fill in lost baggage claim.

Spend night at my father's house.

Luckily I'd packed our toothbrushes in our handluggage.

UK, January 5th: Snow forecast. May even be the wrong type of snow - the settling Alpine "flocon" which grinds UK transport system to a halt rather than the more typical British slush. Decide not to risk early morning journey to airport and spend night in Heathrow airport hotel - same hotel chain as in Zurich. Maybe I could get a job as their inspector?

Heathrow airport, January 6th: Oh God! It's snowing Alpine flocons. Gatwick airport is closed. Luton and Stansted are cancelling flights.

Check in is quick as only have one remaining bag.

Board early. Spend over an hour on the stick while ground crew desperately attempts to de-ice wings. Pray. Pray some more.

Finally we take off. Treat myself to some duty-free to get over the stress.

Abu Dhabi airport, January 6th: Arrive late. Find connecting flight to Bahrain is from another terminal. Grab kids and run.

Take a leaf out of bolshy husband's book and barge to front of security queue manically waving boarding card. Startled Arab security man lets me through. Board plane with minutes to spare.

Arrive Bahrain. No luggage.

Fill in lost luggage form.

Luckily I still have our toothbrushes in our handluggage.

Bahrain, January 7th to date: lost count of the number of hours spent trying to ring baggage tracing at London City Airport. Number permanently engaged.

After 5 days, tracing is transferred to Swiss Air. Ring them. Customer service only open between 8am and 10am Swiss time. What kind of service is that?

Finally get the right number. Am put on hold. For ages. Long enough, in fact, to note their surprisingly apt choice of "on-hold" music, namely: The Three Degrees' "When will I see you again?" (yes, when will I see my Chrissie presents?); Barbra Streisand singing "We have nothing to be guilty of" (yes you bloody have - you're guilty of never answering the phone); and finally Oleta Adams singing "I don't care how you get here, just get here if you can". Quite.

Post script: had a call from Bahrain airport yesterday. One of the four missing bags has arrived. And guess what - it's the skis. Now I have to figure out how to get them back to London!

Happy Birthday Bahrain!

16 December is Bahrain's National Day and the 10th anniversary of King Hamad's accession to the throne. The flags are out all over the island and celebratory events lined up.

So as my own celebration, I thought I'd post some of my favourite Bahrain photos. I hope you like them.

The Flood

I spoke too soon.

The rain started again on Sunday night and lashed down in almost Biblical proportions for 2 days and nights. Here is our street on Tuesday morning.

My friend, Anne, had to give her kids fireman's lifts across the deluge to get out of her house. Luckily she's a northern Irish lass and comes equipped with wellies and waterproofs - things which are nigh on impossible to find in Bahrain when needs must. I know; I tried.

And, of course, most Bahrainis aren't good at driving in rain. Motorways became lethal as locals adopted even more dangerous driving habits than normal, vacillating between racing madly with no headlights and scant regard for deep surface water and dropping to almost snail's pace with hazards flashing causing pile-ups from behind. There have been more than 500 reported road accidents in the last three days and traffic authorities have had to recall staff from holidays to handle the chaos.

Still, the constant downpour and accompanying mud and dirt all over (and inside) the car (and house), the frizzy hair, the running mascara and damp clothes have all made me feel quite at home again!

STOP PRESS - It's raining

I mean really raining - pouring, in fact. I'm so excited. We haven't seen rain like this in Bahrain since last February. I may have to go outside and get soaked, just for the novelty.

And then look for the umbrella...

Oh, no need. It's stopped.

Competitive parenting

Have you noticed how competitive everything is at schools these days? And not between the pupils, between the parents.

Kids' parties have become a hugely lucrative business as parents vie to put on the best show. But do children really need entertainers, bouncy castles and luxury party bags? And why does the whole class have to be invited? What's wrong with inviting a select few for pass-the-parcel and jelly and ice-cream?

Another breeding ground for oneupmanship is the school dress-up day. Olivia had one recently. She has been studying Ancient Egypt and the whole of her year had to come dressed for an Egyptian feast. Which is a great idea, except for the frenzy it seems to cause among parents as they desperately try to outdo each other on the costume front. Outfits were commissioned from local tailors or sent for at great expense from overseas websites, designs were endlessly discussed in the playground. Is it any wonder kids become demanding?

According to the British press, parents are now spending up to GBP150 on "manger chic" designer costumes for their children taking part in nativity plays. The UK department store Debenhams noticed the trend a couple of weeks ago when parents began asking the store's personal shoppers how to create the perfect nativity makeover. Ivory white bridesmaid dresses, bejewelled turbans and fleeced duffle coats (for the donkeys, apparently) were being snapped up.

The store noticed that it was the parents of those children cast in the minor parts of sheep and donkeys that were spending more, presumably to compensate for the lack of a starring role. This is competitive parenting gone mad. What's wrong with a tea-towel and a bit of tinsel? As a representative of Debenhams put it:"The amount of money that some parents want to spend on their child's nativity play appearance would enable Baby Jesus to leave the stable and check into a five-star hotel." Quite.

Yet just look at the photo above to see what can be achieved with a white nightie, an old gold scarf, some cheap bracelets from the souk and liberal application of Rimmel eyeshadow and eyeliner. I give you "Livvy-o-patra" for the princely sum of less than a tenner. Oh, and no agro (priceless).

Eid al-Adha

Today is the second day of Eid al Adha or the Festival of the Sacrifice, a three day festival which falls at the end of the Haj.

The festival commemorates the Prophet Abraham's (Ibrahim's) near-sacrifice of his son to Allah and Muslims traditionally celebrate by slaughtering an animal such as a sheep or goat. They are asked to give a third of the meat to the poor and another third to friends and relatives, symbolising their willingness to forgo something that is precious to them. Schools and offices are closed and people visit family and friends and exchange greetings and gifts.

We went for a family walk in a plantation on the east side of the island and almost everyone we saw greeted us with a cheery "Eid Mubarak!" (Happy Eid) and gave the girls a kiss. The weather was perfect and the date palms looked magnificent.

The farm workers were playing cricket and volleyball or simply sitting and relaxing in the shade of the date palms. Even the security guard at the entrance to the King's late uncle's palace complex let us through with a cheery wave and we managed to get a peek at his seaside pad. What do you think?

And how's this for an Arabian sunset? The view is from Bahrain directly towards Saudi Arabia.