Bahrain on the doorstep of a cultural renaissance...

Over the past few weeks, a lot has been said about the Spring of Culture, most of which was deservedly positive. So it should, because we finally can say that we truly have something remarkable and intellectually stimulating.

Here, we get a rare chance to come face to face with the best the world of culture, art and literature has to offer. Poets, singers, writers, dancers and artistes present it with a flavourful, delectable dose of the finest arts.

It is a much improved programme over the previous year and one that is assertively taking the festival to the next level, with a balanced mix of international and local acts.
The festival has created a wonderful and colourful atmosphere, unlike any we've witnessed before in Bahrain.

The organisers have certainly got it right this time, from the varied and exciting line-up of events, to the organisation, marketing and presentation of the programme.
They certainly deserve a round of applause for their efforts. The Arab and Muslim world's art scene needs a shot in the arm and the Spring of Culture could be the protagonist in reinvigorating a vital element in our communities. Art has no language and culture is not an enemy!

Those who for some reason fear the arts and look at culture as another source of 'devilry' are stone-headed individuals who apparently have no understanding of the word, nor of its role in shaping a collective sense of progressive thinking. Then again, that is exactly what those 'voices' - who claim to be representatives of the people - fear.

Last week, terrorists targeted one of Iraq's liveliest and most renowned cultural areas, Abu Mutanabbi Street, Baghdad, in an obvious attempt at destroying the cultural backbone of the country, which has always been known for its proud cultural and artistic heritage. The street, named after the renowned classical Arabic poet, is lined with bookshops and open-air book stalls.

We've had enough of being pinned down, of being told that all we do and think is wrong, of being looked at as 'cultural terrorists', just because we voice our opinions, because we do things differently and because we enjoy art. How dare we?

I hope - and I'm positive it will - that the Spring of Culture grows bigger every year and that more and more people realise its potential and importance. To have celebrated performers from around the world performing for our pleasure is a privilege and we must take full advantage of it while we can. My only complaint, me being a writer and all, is that there aren't enough readings or talks by internationally renowned authors. I would've loved to see a couple of big-name authors sharing their literature with us... perhaps that's something for the organisers to consider for next year's version.

The cultural scene in Bahrain has been witnessing a much-needed refreshing surge in recent times. This cannot be a bad thing for the country, if anything it should open up a debate on cultural-fusions and the role of contemporary art in modern Islamic/Arab community.

Appeared in GDN Vol XXIX, NO. 356, Sunday, 11 March 2006

A tragedy that has fostered brotherhood...

My earliest childhood memories of Ashoora was being hoisted on someone's shoulders to catch a glimpse of the 'haydar', the final and most gruelling procession on the morning of the 10th day of Muharram.

The shocking image of bald, bleeding heads with the deep sound of drums, punching my quivering heart, is something that is engraved in my mind and soul.

Every year, my father would take us - me and my brothers - to the ma'atam to attend the proceedings and listen to the Imams retell the tragic and sad story of the Imam Hussain and his family in the battle of Karbala and how they were slaughtered for what they believed in and stood up for, in a sombre and haunting assembly.

As a child, seeing adults, big men - our fathers, uncles, grandfathers - with their heads bowed low, weeping, some silently, some violently, is a heart-wrenching and unforgettable moment that reflects the deep sorrow, the grief, of something that occurred hundreds of years ago, yet is still mourned to this day.

For the 10 days of Ashoora, Manama is overtaken with a sense of grief and celebration, draped in black banners, flags and shawls. Food and drink is handed out on the streets and alleyways to strangers and passers-by, as a gesture of kindness and togetherness, to share, to be as one.
I remember, for a number of years, how my elder brother and I would stay behind to help in the ma'atam's kitchen, where food is prepared for the next day to be dispersed to the public; those long nights of chopping onions and peeling potatoes - even though tiring - were immensely rewarding.

We enjoyed the company of the other men and young boys who served at the ma'atam, each had a mission, a duty and a responsibility and each was committed, dedicated and seemed truthfully honoured to be involved, to be taking part, in this special occasion.

In spite of the puffy eyes, the tiredness and the smell of onions on us, my brother and I couldn't help but have a big wide smile on our faces, as dawn broke.

As I grew up, I began to understand more the essence of the story of Karbala and the Imam Hussain and come to terms with its sadness, realising the significance of being involved in celebrating it. Ashoora has become part of the true Bahraini tradition and heritage. To have that freedom is a privilege we must appreciate, knowing that it wasn't easy at times.

The occasion that once was limited to Shi'a only, has now been turned into a festival of unity, bringing Bahrainis - of all racial, ethnic and sectarian backgrounds - together from all corners of the island, to mark those everlasting days side by side.

This is unquestionably the biggest annual gathering in the country, in which tens of thousands of people flood into Manama to celebrate an occasion that was born out of tragedy, persecution and injustice, but one that today stands for great values, promoting tolerance, acceptance and harmony.


*Appeared in GDN Vol XXIX, NO. 314, Sunday, 28th January 2007

Short-changed with words of courtesy...

"Are you together?" she asks. We look at each other and we're not quite sure what she means.
Were we 'together', I mean, yes, technically we were together, but we weren't together, if you see what I mean.

We both look at her again.

"No," "Yes." This was starting to get awkward and rather uncomfortable.

There was a moment of silence, before my friend decided to reinforce our stance again.
My friend and I decided to order another round of coffee and for some reason this was turning out to be more confusing and complicated than we were expecting it to be.

You would think that buying a cup of coffee was easy in this country. I certainly thought so. Well, think again.

"Can we just get our change back please?"

But the lady behind the counter still looked at us with puzzlement, her mouth slightly ajar.
I thought to myself, maybe the concept of returning change was foreign to this young lady here.
But normally, when you pay for something, you expect your change back - if there was any - and in our case, there was.

Besides, what kind of question was that? "Are you together?!?" Hello?! It's none of your darned business. It's not like we're socialising here, unless its company policy for the staff to try and get to intimately know their customers. I don't know about you, but I find that somewhat rude.

"We don't have change," she finally told us, but it sounded to me more like a question, which was odd.

I had to laugh. Here we were, at one of the biggest coffee house franchise in the world and they don't have any change for a couple of cups of coffee. Do you realise how absurd that sounds? It always baffled me whenever I am at a big store (and I'm not talking about your local grocery store here, I'm talking major worldwide franchises and such) and I'm dealt the "do you have change?" routine.

Some shopkeepers look at BD20 notes as if they were contaminated with radiation.
Eventually the counter-lady caves in and, from her secret stash tucked away in her 'cash-register', she hands our change back - but not without a a disdainful look.

I'm exasperated by the behavioural patterns of certain individuals in certain positions. And the way many staff treat their customers as if they were coming from Pluto, some are always willing to take you for a ride at any chance.

I'm sure you've been through these before yourself. Waiters never returning your change and deciding for themselves, on your behalf, to take the last 400 or 500 fils as a tip. I don't care if my change is only 10 fils, you just don't take people's money like that! It's about principals, rights and more importantly, at least to me, it's about being courteous to others.

It appears courtesy is a concept hard for many to grasp; we don't seem to have any of it around.
Seriously people, would it kill us to smile at a stranger every once in a while? Would it kill us to hold the door for the person behind us? Would it kill us to look at each other as equals?

Maybe we need a School of Courtesy in this country, maybe then we'll truly "progress".


*Appeared in GDN Vol XXIX , NO. 300, Sunday, 14th January 2007