A day of RECKONNECTION…

Guess who's back….it's Pinky and the Bahrain silly!  It feels good to be mutually contributing to the adventure that has become our life.  Kind of funny how in many ways, the time since the last Pinky and the Bahrain blog entry seems like a lifetime ago.  A trip to Paris went completely unchronicled, birthdays and a graduation uncelebrated, friends lost and friends gained, and the annual Kicking the Sh*t Out of Cancer in Pinky's hometown was a mere blip on the PnB (Pinky and the Bahrain) radar.  We'll be sure to catch you up on that in due time.  :D, but this entry is about something much more...

As many of our dedicated readers are aware, Pinky and I went our separate ways for a time.  In truth it was a very confusing, dark, and difficult time for both Pinky and I.  Difficult questions were asked, harder answers given, tears were shed, bonds broken, and actions taken that reflected two people who were the furthest thing from being in love with one another.  But isn't life and love funny sometimes? Perhaps the fine line between love and hate has never been so blurred and so true.  I don't want to overstate things and say that it was against all odds, but against pretty significant odds, Pinky and I found our love for one another once again only to realize that it never really left.

What I aim to express in this blog is to not give up, not in love, not in life, not in anything unless you know it's something you no longer want.  I think Pinky and I both tried to give up at various times during our time apart.  We tried to forget, if for no other reason than so that we could really move on.  The push and pull of time spent away and a relationship where the communication was floundering is draining.  But buried deep underneath all of that was something so natural and so right that, to date, I don't think either of us has been able to explain it properly.  Coming to terms with that feeling and opening yourself up to being vulnerable takes legitimate courage.  Making a conscious choice to work on something despite not knowing if the other will, involves risk; but a risk worth taking.  And since opening up to that risk, the reward has entirely been worth it.  Things haven't always come easy, but she, I, and Pinky and the Bahrain are better for it.  And frankly I'm proud of that.

I'll openly admit that throughout our fairly consistent communication while being broken up, I had serious doubts on how/if/when/where our paths would cross again.  And even if it did, would it mean enough to take another chance at being together and whether or not that was even the "right" thing to do after everything that had happened.  All those questions were answered during a late night phone call regarding a last minute Thanksgiving trip back to Wisconsin where the Bahrain decided to meet me (Pinky) and stay with my family.  I don't think our lives will ever be the same after that day, a day we now refer to warmly as our Day of Reckonnection….

A simple trip,
or something more;
A chance to reconnect,
with the one we adore.

A question asked,
an answer given;
A life in love,
is a a life worth living.

A winding road,
without a clue;
A road to be driven,
the answer is true.

Special thanks to all of our friends and family who are a part of our journey and have reached out to congratulate our Day of Reckonnection.  We can only hope to be able to repay the words of encouragement, advice, and well wishes in the future.

Much Love,

PnB

The Invasion

Many people, including myself before I got here, think of Saudi Arabia when they think of the middle east. Strict outfits, no drinking, and Muslim laws. Bahrain is a very different place than Saudi. Bahrain has places that allow drinking, I can wear my clubbing dresses out, and in general, things are much more relaxed. Bahrain recognizes that there is a huge ex-pat population (52% in 2009), and that in order to function with such a diverse population, they need to keep things "hip". However, Saudi is just a short bridge away from the party mecca that is Bahrain.

Saudi Dudes' Butts

This hipness draws the attention of Saudi hipsters (if you will). Or just Saudi's that want to let their hair down.  This creates a situation where many MANY Saudi peeps end up making the 15 minute drive (with no traffic) to Bahrain on the weekends. When a teensy tiny island like Bahrain has it's population double over night, things tend to get a little hectic. Fortunately, Saudi weekend is on thursday-friday and Bahrain weekend is on friday-saturday. That means Bahrain has one weekend day that isn't mayhem. That was, until this week- when the King of Saudia Arabia changed the weekend to be the same as Bahrain's weekend.

What the whaaa???

That's right. He made a royal announcement, and then the weekend was changed. Can you imaging this happening anywhere else? Obama makes a decision that actually - we're going to have Mondays and Wednesdays off. Think about all the songs that would suddenly not make sense. 'Raining on Sunday', 'That's what I love about Sundays', '...it's friday I'm in love'. Not to mention that TGIF would suddenly not make any sense. Thank god it's the middle of the week? 

Doesn't have the same ring to it.

So beyond the awe from the immense power of the Saudi king, I'm sorry to say that this change kind of sucks. The malls (which are actually cool here, not just for teenagers going to Clairs) are packed. The supermarkets run out of things (Apparently, refried beans are a hit with the ol' Sauds). And traffic is a bitch. I know it sounds silly to complain about traffic when I used to drive an hour on the interstate to get to work, but when it takes 45 minutes to go a mile, you tend to get a little cranky. 

Just shopping away...

The stickler is - I don't think the Saudis like me. For one, I get bumped into a lot. This might be because of my American discomfort with not having 'personal space', or it might be that I just get bumped more often than most. Is there a secret rule about who goes in what direction that I don't know about? I tried going right all the time, like in the states, then I switched to left. Nothing seems to work. I often find myself surrounded by ninja-like women, and I feel like a marshmallow in an ant hill. 

What I need is an 'in'. Just ONE Saudi friend to either introduce me to other Saudis, or at least tell me the secret rules. How does one say, 'excuse me' in Arabic? How does one say 'get your own weekend' in Arabic? Maybe this is just a rant, and I'll look back one day with all my Saudi friends and laugh. Or maybe I'll get trampled in a shopping spree stampede and never be heard from again. If I have red checkered cloth on my flat dead body, you know who it was. :)

No one ever suspects the sexy ones. 

Hens V. Stags

Well after another extended hiatus, it is time to re-enter the world of blogging!  It's been a busy couple of months both the Brain and I.  As the Brain elaborated in the previous blog, we were able to get back to good ole' 'Merica and enjoy our families and friends.  For me that included meeting my new niece (a 3 month old yellow labrador), watching my beautiful baby sister graduate to become a registered nurse, and formally welcoming in my brother (technically brother in-law) to be.  It was a whirlwind week of epic proportions to say the least!

Freaking adorable right?

Nurse "pinning" ceremony

The Happy Couple

But enough of 'Merica, and on to this past weekend where the Brain and I were offered up a unique treat.  We were each invited to our first Bahrain Hen and Stag Parties (more commonly referred to Bachelor's and Bachelorette's Parties).  Why Hen's and Why Stags you ask?  I don't know, it seems to be largely a British thing....  In any case these types of weekends are usually circled on calendars for weeks in advance, and the anticipation of such an event did not disappoint!!!

We've had our aim set on tonight....

The Stag party was themed as mobsters which most people adhered to.  The bachelor and his closest friends rolled around in style via a red Lincoln limo that actually needed to be jumped (dead battery) midway through the night.  Got to love the way they take care of vehicles in Bahrain!!!  The rest of us car-pooled and rolled from place to place enjoying the scenery, live music, and the impromptu rap session by one of the Stag party members who also happens to be a kick ass free-style rapper.  Chants of Mo' Mo' Mo' could be heard for blocks as we piled out of the respective night club and on to the next.  Not by coincidence, Mo is the name of the bachelor for this particular evening.

Gangstas 4 Life

A Bahraini, a German, and 2 Americans walk into a bar...

After a few more stops, the stag party came to rest at a Russian dance club.  Now before you start getting your hopes up for some crazy story, let me just tell you that at said Russian Dance club there were a few rules: 1. No Standing  2. No Pictures  3. No Bachelor on Stage  4. No Private Dancing.  5. No nudity.  So needless to say it was a rather short stay for the Stag party.  Now there is nothing wrong with this establishment, it just wasn't quite Stag night material.  I lived in Vegas for 4 years, I know what that type of establishment looks like.

Rapping in action...

Immediately after one of the most epic free-style renditions of all time!

The Hen's party started out a bit more reserved at first with everyone assembling at the bachelorette's house for drinks, jokes, and penis cake (provided by Pinky and the Bahrain's one and only Brain).  All of the beautiful women were garbed in their favorite little black dress and pink accessory of choice.  Flocks of pink boas followed the bachelorettes everywhere they went, usually leaving a trail that was easily traceable to the source.  The bachelorette party took full advantage of ladies' nights spread throughout the Bahraini club scene and were the life of the party everywhere they went.

Pen15 cake

Hey Ladies!  Where the creepy guys at?

The dance floor was theirs!  

Hen Party

Both parties ended up at the Brazil Lounge, which is a common hangout for most members of our group due to the kind bartenders, free jello shots, and the fact that it is owned and managed by none other than Mo himself.  In all the night was a smashing success and allowed both the Brain and I to see into the life of a real-life Bahraini couple.  While the future bride is from Belarus originally, she has welcomed the Bahraini social scene and lifestyle while finding the love of her life along the way.  So let's end this entry on that note and thank Mo and Anna for reminding us that love is random, love is beautiful, love is fun, and love is worth fighting (and partying) for.

Going Home

Things have been busy for this world-traveling couple. Most notably, we went home to visit the families back in the States. It's always been a tricky endeavor - going home. On the one hand, I love seeing everyone and feeling settled and remembering why I love the people and places I grew up with.

Beautiful Colorado

On the other hand, it's tough! It's hard to see those beautiful things and have the yearning for them refreshed. It's like seeing a home baked cake, in all it's perfection, making the whole house smell like warmth and sugar... but you can only have one lick of the frosting. After that, you just get pictures and phone calls while everyone else eats it. It's delicious torture.

Here, Emmy contemplates the larger meaning behind her cupcake...

I remembered that I love Downtown Denver, with all of the millions of bars right in a row, ready for you to choose them, but won't go under just because the select few don't go there. In Bahrain, most bars are spread out, and the need a constant flow of people to stay afloat. I remembered I love Wisconsin, with it's green, lush country side and it's grounded, humorous people. I even learned how to drive my very first tractor!

Getty up!

At the same time, I have to keep in mind what I'm gaining here in Bahrain in return for the sacrifice of the cake back home.  I'm meeting new and wonderful friends, expanding my understanding of a different place and culture, and most importantly - solidifying my bond with the lovely Pinky.

He's such a looker.

Ultimately, while going home makes me miss being there, I have to recognize that it is incredible to have so many wonderful things in my life- that I can't fit them into one place. One day, after we've traveled and explored, we will be home again, and I'll have my cake and eat it too. :)

Social Bahraini Butterflies

I begged Pinky for a pet. With apartment living, our options were limited. I suggested a great dane - they're lazy. Pinky didn't think we could train it to pee on the patio. I was in one of the open air markets last month, and there were thousands of birds. Parakeets by the hundreds of course, pet pigions, chickens, you name it. Then I saw it - a grey parrot. I'm not sure if you are familiar with the bird, but it's usually sold for thousands of dollars, live to be like 60 years old, and they are the smartest birds on the planet. There it was - in the same cage as a rooster no less. I wanted it badly. Then Pinky reminded me that it probably already speaks Arabic. It could be telling our guests to screw off, and we would never know. So the parrot was out (for now).

As a consolation prize - I got Clark and Randy. Clark Griswold and Randy Rhoades to be exact.

They came with four fish that we called 'The Crew' but after one missed feeding, the aquarium got mutinous, and two fish were eaten. It's a fight for survival in there. The turtles are only about an inch and a half long, but they provide for endless entertainment. 

Now I know it seems like that this is about to be the saddest blog post ever, where we tell you that our only friends are turtles, but that's not the case. We do actually interact on a regular basis with some of the most fun-loving goofballs I know. 

Elevator pictures are always taken on the way out, not the way back at night.  Sleeping people aren't photogenic. 

The ex-pat community is strong here, and our group of friends shows as much. It's not unlikely to find a group of 15 people, none of whom are from the same country, but all of whom are best friends. Looking around at a gathering is like going on the "It's a Small World Ride" at disney land. The guy with the shaved head in the picture above is my boss, and he's the only person I know who is actually born and raised in Bahrain. The rest of us are a modge-podge of random countries and origins, making for colorful pictures and amazing dinner parties.

Pinky was very excited for the crepe party

Real French crepes!

I think it's time to say a little more about what we actually do here in Bahrain. If you follow Pinky or myself on facebook, then I know it might seem like it's all beaches and boating. It's not. There are dance parties as well. :) Very organized parties actually. The social scene here in Bahrain is largely run by event promotion companies. Most of the big name clubs will throw big events, with themes and big name DJs (house music is big here).

Next time I'll wear high heels, don't judge my dancing shoes. 

Like I said, boating also plays a major role in the weekend plans. My favorite boating destination is Jerada. It's a sandbar in the middle of the sea, that only is above water while the tide is low, making it a disappearing island. While the timing is tricky, our boat caption knows it well, and it is an adventure every time. 

Pinky has grown quite close to these boys. QUITE close. :)

Work hard, play hard is our general motto here. Pinky is often in Saudi working incredibly hard and I... well I also do some work, but working on the inter-webs means never being tied to a location, so I think I have the better end of the deal.

The weekend office

All in all, we've met some incredible people, and we have been truly lucky with the friends we have made. Sometimes in life you just click with people, which is exactly what happened here. 

The Greatest Man I Know

Admittedly the blog posts have been less and less frequent as the Brain's and my lives have increased with activity.  Between long days at work, weekends spent boating, trip planning, trip taking, and a bit of relaxation mixed in, it has been difficult to find a schedule that is conducive to writing.  In the weeks that have passed since the last blog post, Easter has come and gone, baseball has started, and March Madness has reached a fevered pitch with only the championship game remaining.  I vow to you that we will catch up on those things in due time.  In the true spirit of blogging and being in the moment, today belongs to my Dad.....The Greatest Man I Know.

Today is Pop's birthday, 53 wonderful years old.  While I couldn't be home to celebrate, I thought I would share a few paragraphs instead.  Poppa Grizz is a true Mid-Western kid with quite an array of versatility to keep everything interesting.  He is short and stocky with legs and calves that rival professional athletes and a handshake that feels of the steel that he works with every day.  He is generally a man of few words, but warm and kind to those that know him best.  His beard over the years has evolved from the salt and pepper shaker look of the mid 90's to the near Christmas Santa-esque version you will see today.  He isn't afraid to hide those white hairs either.  He knows they stand for wisdom and wears them proudly.

More Hunter than Gatherer

Getting Buff.  Had to have at least one embarrassing picture here!

Pop is not an overly complex man.  Good food, good people, good beer, a good dog, and a good story to tell and he would never complain, not that he does much anyway.  He grew up in a time when "Take  It Like A Man" meant something and he exemplifies that statement to this day.  He is a man who will stand up for what he believes and will prove selflessness for his family.  When we were kids, he VOLUNTARILY requested to move to the grave yard shift (11pm-7am) so that he could coach youth baseball all day every day.  An hour of sleep here, maybe 2 hours there and then it was back to work to start it all over again....happily!  He has taught (and continues) to teach his children how to hunt, fish, build, respect (people and nature), party, help, and succeed.  Over the years he has always been supportive of whatever crazy ideas his children have had even if that meant seeing them less (and trust me, he always wants to see them more). He has proven to see the bigger picture and has wanted his children to take advantages of situations that were not presented to him.  I believe he is content with that, not bitter.

Still teaching as a hunter's education safety instructor ...

If you asked him what type of worker he would categorize himself as, he would probably say worker bee type.  He might also tell you he is the jack of all trades, but master of none.  He might also tell you nothing and simply ask that you come to work with him and you tell him.  His intellect goes far beyond worker bee material I can assure you.  He takes pride that his collar is blue, but won't hold a grudge for those whose aren't.  Grizz is a learner, maybe not a read a book a week learner, but a let me figure out how this thing comes together learner.  He was taught to work and learn with his hands, a trait that has carried on with all of his children.  Arguably the best thing that my dad has been for my 28 years is a teacher.  If I really boil it all down, most everything I know comes down to something that my father has taught me or encouraged me to learn over the years.

A good dog makes good dogs, here is one of the recent puppy pictures from the family dog's litter.    It's here mostly because it's freaking adorable, but also represents the compassionate side of my Father.  Photo Credit: Kally Dey

These paragraphs surely are not all inclusive of the man that his my father.  It doesn't peel back the layers of the marriage to my beautiful mother or the intricacies of being a son, brother, husband, father, uncle, or friend.  It's a brief summary if you will, of the man he is and the man I hope I can be half of before my time is up.  So cheers Dad, have one on me, but know that this one is for you.  To the Greatest Man I know....I love you and I'll see you soon.

Love,

Buzzy (aka Pinky)

Mom, Dad, and I.... Missed Amanda and Brandon on this one.

Have's and Have Not's

When moving to a new country, there were some things I was prepared to give up. Sweet corn on the cob, my favorite clothing stores, and references to "Merica" were a few of them.

Here's a list of things I didn't think Bahrain would have, but I'm delighted that it does:

The Have's

Mexican Food. Can you tell I'm happy in the picture above? Senior Pacos (the sit down place, not the mall version) has legitimately good food. It's not street tacos, which I love, but at least there's good pico. (and margaritas- which looking back, may have contributed to the happiness).

Doughnuts. There is an actual Krispy Kreme in the mall. It's no Dunkins, but it will more than suffice for those mornings when I could kill for a crawler. 

Armani water (for about $12). Learning from experience, one of my first questions upon moving here was - can you drink the tap water? Pinky assured me that you can. This, I've come to find out, was a DAMN LIE. I was mildly sick for quite some time, and I came to grips with the fact that I would be taking pepto for the rest of my life. Out of curiosity, after seeing endless water bottles around, I casually asked a friend of mine if he drinks tap water - he about fainted. 

"Absolutely not! Do you drink the tap water?!?!" He asked, with horror in his eyes. 

"Um.... well I won't anymore...."

So FYI, don't drink the water. There's bottles for sale everywhere, and most of them aren't designer brand. 

Street food. Again, it's no tacos, but there is local, ridiculously cheap food available. The above pictured delicacy cost about 50 cents, and was SO good. It was like spicy chili with chickpeas, and the poofs are fried potato dumplings. Drool...

Random awesome restaurants and stores. All my favorites from around the world are here. With as many malls as they have, all stores will eventually be drawn into the Bahrain circuit. Forever 21, H&M, Gap - all my favorites are here, even specialties like Potbelly from Chicago. 

All in all, it's been hard to find things to miss from the states. What are a few of the have nots? Hot sauce (the good kind, not the Louisiana kind), stick deodorant, and of course, the beloved Target. Pinky misses mom's home cooking and Santiagos breakfast burritos. Guess we'll just have to pack those things in our suitcases next time we visit. Target might be hard. Maybe we can just take the little dog...

Awkward Embrace

Okay, Okay Brain, time for Pinky to begin contributing to the blog once again.  After a couple week hiatus, it's good to be back.  While Brain did an excellent job on the last two entries, there was a very significant date that I would like to address further - our 1 year anniversary (February 12th for those you keeping track).  

Sorry I was busy texting or checking sports scores or wearing sport coats, so it's my turn to blog now?

The first date may forever live in infamy as the first time the Brain and I ever met.  Here is a small recount of our first date:

It all took place on a blustery day in Colorado.  Previous attempts at a first date had been unsuccessful due to large blankets of snow covering the Denver Metro area.  Pinky picked the scene for the first date, which was a dodgy old bowling lane (unbeknownst to him) filled with teenagers smoking and asian adolescents with sleeve tattoos (not kidding).  Pinky arrived first sporting a traditional lumberjack flannel shirt and helped himself to a Miller Lite to pass the time before the Brain was set to arrive.  He was after all 15 minutes early!  Pinky assessed the situation of the place he had suggested to meet, and thought that this was the perfect scene for another Plenty of Fish first date night mare.  The Brain came strolling in rocking a black pea coat and green khakis.  Bouncy and confident, she approached Pinky and the two engaged in their first awkward hug of the night (not to be their last).  The two strangers in the night proceeded to bowl 3 games, of which the Brain dominated the first two.  It wasn't until after another beer and a few dance moves later that Pinky was able to get into the triple digit bowling scores where true bowling legends live.  Before heading off in their separate ways, Pinky and the Brain decided to have one more memorable drink.  To assure his financial status, Pinky insisted that he would pay.  As he swiftly pulled out the credit card to pay, the smoothness of his action resulted in reduced friction between his fingers and credit card resulting in the credit card being launched at the bartender and finally coming to rest in the nearly full garbage immediately in front of said bartender.  

After laughing off the moment over the final evening's cocktail, Pinky and the Brain went on their separate ways.  After grabbing their respective coats and heading outside past the smoking and tattooed toddlers, it was time to say goodbye.  In an exchange that would haunt Hollywood romance movie makers, Pinky stepped in for a hug, while the Brain leaned in for a kiss.  Not until pulling back from the hug, did Pinky realize that a kiss was on the table.  This realization was met with another half-hearted lean in for a hug as the original kiss proposition was appropriately dismissed.  The culmination of these events left both Pinky and the Brain wishing for a "mulligan" to try again.  As luck and fate would have it, the two would get this chance in the not so distant future…..Valentine's Day.

Proof that we still aren't always on the same page.....

But when we are, it is bliss......

So that, my loyal subjects, is the story of how we got here.  Pinky and the Bahrain wouldn't exist today without these very awkward and embarrassing first steps or more appropriately mis-steps.  But our story speaks to a bigger story in general I think.  That is to remember to wake up every day and smell the roses.  Live in the moment as the cliche goes; but also remember your past and remember where you started and where you've been.  Let that remembrance be the thing that keeps you pushing forward in your weakest moments through life's trials and tribulations.  

Flashing some Flesh

No matter where I move, or what I pack, I always end up thinking the same thing... I should have brought more clubbing dresses.

While I was getting ready to leave for "The Middle East", I had a very serious packing session with my sisters. They would hold something up, and we would decide if it was modest enough. If you know me at all, you will know that not many things made the cut. You could hear us proclaiming; "Too low cut.", "Too much leg", "Too see through and sparkly and neon"(that dress was my favorite). I cut down to about 15% of my original wardrobe.

I was very sad to see them go. I hoped they would wait for me.

To the delight of my resourceful sisters, I packed away all my pretties (which I'm sure they've divvied up between the two of them by now), and headed East with my most modest outfits. Cowl necks, maxi dresses, and scarves by the dozen all came with me. The first night we went out on the town, I wore one of my long dresses, sandals, with a scarf to cover my shoulders. I felt pretty good; until I saw what the other girls were wearing.

This wasn't them, but it very well could have been.

Everyone else was wearing the dresses I had left behind! There was leg, cleavage and spandex as far as the eye could see. And not one damn scarf. Not one. It stands to logic, that traditional Muslim women wouldn't be at a bar, which means no hijabs. Traditional Muslims don't drink, and, as I now know, the bars are full of scantily dressed women. Not the best place for modesty. Last week, I decided it was time to replenish my supply of sexy. In essence, I was bringing sexy back.

It's not sparkly, but it IS neon. My friend said I could be an air traffic controller... I think that means I nailed it.

Before I moved, I also stocked up on my basics - tee shirts, leggings, long sleeve shirts - because I figured there wouldn't be quick access to my favorite stores here. On the contrary, right across the street from my house, there is a mall with H&M, Forever 21, and Gap. Basically, what I'm saying is- Bahrain is not as foreign as people would have you think. They pretty much have everything, but with better Indian food.

This street in Bahrain had a Chilis, Dairy queen, Papa Johns, Carl's Jr., Pizza Hut, Hardees AND McDonalds.  Obviously we stopped.

The only thing missing is a Target. If I've learned one thing, it's to never take Target for granted. You need a nail clipper? Target. A pair of cheap towels? Target. A freaking Christmas Tree? Target! I'm sure, with time, I'll find all the local stores for these things, but until then, I'm left wondering, 'Where do I find a dust buster?'