Kingdom of Bahrain

                         Bahrain International Airport




Dear Customs Official,

This short note is to let you know that I shall soon be arriving via a commercial aircraft from perhaps eight different stop-overs to arrive at your podunk island. I do not anticipate my luggage arriving with me on that flight so I am asking in advance that you give my bulging hand luggage free passage through customs.

I realize you may not have ever seen some of the items in my hand luggage, like the razor and shaving cream. People around the world have been known to use these two items together for removing hair from one's body. Don't get too excited by the shiny silver can. It is not an Al-Queda-approved detonation device! It is, in fact, AXE deodorant. Please feel free to use some, under your arms, around your torso, down your pants, and on your dry cracked feet.

The look of surprise at my under-pigmented skin is not appreciated. I'm from Africa, we don't tolerate racism - anymore. Once, back in high school, I erected a basic stand to raise funds for black children who had fallen victim to the abuse of white supremists. After not making any money the first day, I returned the following day, full of hope, only to find that my stand had been beaten down and destroyed.

Since it will more than likely be hotter in your airport than it is at the center of the sun, I shall be wearing cargo shorts, flip-flops and a t-shirt. In your experienced opinion, would I be showing too much flesh? I wouldn't want to have my ankles smacked with a dry stick by one of your religious police officers.

Do not be surprised by the fact that I am not being followed by a herd of desert goats as I pass through your venerated establishment. I realize many visitors to your fine country prefer to travel with their livestock, but I shall be leaving mine back on the arid farm as I find they get very bored very quickly on the plane and as such tend to cause havoc. I do not want to be labeled, "that white tourist with the roudy goats". I may, however, be traveling with my pet cat. No, this is not intended to be a future meal, but, in fact, is being transported (with a valid international health certificate, in both English and Arabic) to keep me company during my stay in your fine country. Please refrain from licking your lips or offering me coins when I do finally let the cat out the bag!

Do you have taxi automobiles outside your world-class international airport? Or should I attempt to pre-arrange a ride via wooden cart drawn by a donkey? Where would I find one of these?

I thank you in advance and look forward with trepidation to my trip.

Regards,

T. Raveler

I'm going back to the Land of Sand

Several years ago, I boarded a plane in a dirty little airport in Abu Dhabi and settled back in my squished-yet-cushioned seat for what was going to be a very long flight - via Amsterdam, on to San Francisco. Now it appears that five years of trying to get all that of the Middle Eastern deserts out of my ears, I have an itch to go back. And so shall it be. That itch shall be scratched.

Next week I shall be boarding yet another plane. This one bound for Bahrain, via where who knows?! An email, a phone call, and a job offer later, I find myself headed back to the hottest place on the planet. Sure, we're going into winter, but all that means is a little less sizzle - until May. Will keep yinz updated.

It's called urban camping

And it sucks. It's like being back in college.

A couple weeks back my electricity was switched off. Turns out I forgot to pay my bill. Hey, it happens. Sometimes you think, "Today I shall pay my electric bill", and then something comes up and you forget and you think, "Ok, I'll do it tomorrow".

Unbeknownst to me, my bill was a whopping $1400. Have I been paying for the entire city's electric? Not cool. Either way,  I get home from work, walk into my sweat box, have a shower (candle light - it's all very romantic) and try to fall asleep.

I finally realized where that rancid odor was coming from. When your fridge isn't running, it can't keep its contents fresh. As such, I had to clean out the mold forest that had devoured my fridge. It's almost paid up so hopefully I'll have lights and air conditioning for the weekend.

British vs. Italian

So a couple weeks back I started working at this new Italian restaurant in my neighborhood. Small. Cozy. Good food. I'm not gonna lie, at the end of the first couple shifts, I wanted to hack off my own feet with a butter knife. Standing and running and slipping and bending over for about six hours straight tends to do damage to one's feet.

But now I'm getting used to it - and the nice regular pay check.

Stop by for a munch, Italian-style. The British may have cornered the bangers & mash market, but we're working on conquering the salmon, pasta, and baciole markets.

HOT HOT HOT

I remember when I lived in the Middle East, the temperature would often soar above 50 degrees Celsius. And if you were in say, Dubai, where the humidity is 100%, well, you can imagine the heat.


So I'm left puzzled and perplexed at how meteorologists and weather experts are saying this is going to be the hottest summer on record. Come on, really? Today in Pittsburgh it's just 34 degrees Celcius. Sure, it's a little toasty, but seriously, it's not that bad. Hop on an Emirates flight and spend a day or two in the Land of Sand. THEN you'll know what hot is.

How can something so deadly be so beautiful?

Another week, another volcanic eruption in Iceland.

I was speaking to a friend yesterday about this beautiful puff of smoke up there on the very top of the world and he asked how we pissed off Mother Nature so badly as to have random tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, landslides, and extreme seasons.

My only thought to appease this Mother Nature person is to sacrifice a virgin by tossing her into the volcano. Only problem is, this is 2011. Where do you find a virgin?

The end of the world is nigh

Question: Why is everyone so obsessed with the apocolypse, or armageddon? They say the world will end tomorrow. It was also supposed to end in 2000. And according to those smart Mayan folk, you have until the 21st of December 2012 to get all your Sodom and Gomorrah desires dealt with. 

I've got too much going on to even think about. If it ends, it ends. Am I supposed to plan for it? Make provisions by stock-piling cans of beans and soup in my basement? Should I try escape it? What fun would that be? Imagine it for a minute, you're the sole survivor of the apocolypse. You crawl out of your bunker like a squirrel crawls out of its' tree hole at the end of winter only to find...nothing. If it's the end of the world, there's nothing. No trees, no Rite Aids, no gas stations, no McDonald's. Just nothingness. 

Heaven? Hell? Yowza, this is getting to deep for me. Let's see what The Onion has to say.