THE PLACE WHERE I GREW UP

The ruins of an old Portuguese fort in Bahrain.

Dearest Friends,

We spent our last week in Bahrain at the Delmon Hotel --  John going to work each day, and me with lots of time on my hands.  Time to read and lay out by the pool.  Time to think, about what was behind us now, and about what was ahead.  I took care of a few last errands, such as picking up some travelers' checks (remember those?) and paying our final electric bill, but I didn't even bother to let the phone company know that we no longer needed that phone we'd been waiting a year and a half for!

On September 1, 1977, we arose before dawn, packed our few things, and headed to the airport to catch our 9:00 a.m. flight to Athens, Greece.  We had to walk across the tarmac to reach the plane, and halfway there my husband suddenly stopped and spun around to face the city.  I'd been doing my very best to think positive thoughts about our trip to Europe and the career that I had waiting for me in Houston, and not to let myself dwell on what I was leaving behind.  I feared that if he said something sappy about all that, I might just lose it and burst into tears!  Imagine my surprise when, instead, he lifted his thumb to his nose, and blew raspberries towards the city!  "Adios, Bahrain", he hollered.  "There's not one single thing I'm going to miss about you!"  That's when it really hit home, how vastly different our two experiences had been -- how his being offshore most of the time, or in the office with other expats, and constantly having to deal with our stupid transportation issues, had kept him from feeling any sense of connection to the place.

Meanwhile, his little wifey had been off mingling with a very international group of women, working for a Bahraini family, living alone in an Bahraini neighborhood, and taking her typing and French classes, in which there were no other Americans.  Though I may have been raised in Dallas, Bahrain is the place where I grew up.  It was the first place where I had to deal with problems and crises all on my own; the first where I was no longer surrounded by people who felt they knew what was best for me, and actually had to decide that for myself; the first where I interacted with people from many different backgrounds and beliefs, every one of which had been brought up to believe just as strongly, if not more so, that their way was the right way.  As I mentioned before, you'd have to walk around with blinders on, not to end up with a broader view of the world after experiencing all this.  I learned a lot about other cultures, a lot about the games our leaders play, a lot about the terrible things that are done in the name of religion, and most of all, a lot about myself -- about my strengths and capabilities, my likes and dislikes, and about my beliefs and disbeliefs.  Miss Becky had indeed had quite the adventure!

I feared it may well be our last and greatest adventure, but life had a few more surprises up its sleeve for us (remember when I said I'd never want to have kids in Indonesia?), and I can't wait to tell you about them.  First, however, we have a month to spend in Europe together!

FORTY-ONE DAYS

Dearest Friends,

From the moment John stepped off that boat, the clock began its countdown.  Forty-one days left in Bahrain.  Forty-one days in which to accomplish everything that needed to be done, and to tie up all of our loose ends.  Forty-one days left of what might be the biggest (perhaps even the only) adventure of our lives.  How exactly would we spend them?

Well, for one thing, we would start by planning the trip of a lifetime, though it took a bit of work for me to convince my hubby of that.  He, of course, was fretting about not having another job already waiting for him back in the states, and thought he should hurry straight home and begin the search.  I told him "Hey!  You have been working non-stop for the last 18 months. We've got two free plane tickets, a month's paid vacation coming to us, no debts, no bills, no mortgage, no kids, no responsibilities, and more money in the bank than we ever thought possible.  If we can't take a vacation now, then when?"  "Well, when you put it that way!"  We began plotting our course through Europe.

In the meantime, however, in addition to John working full-time in the office, and making one more quickie trip offshore, there was a quilt to be finished, and a bunch of aprons to be sewn for an AWA fundraiser; there were lots of household items and appliances to be cleaned up and sold, and all kinds of inventories to be taken; I had a mix 'n match, drip-dry travel wardrobe to sew for myself, and there were new work suits and a white 3-piece Saturday Night Fever suit to be whipped up by a tailor for John; there was one last Mexican Potluck to be given for our departing friends Nellie and Dave, at which we would finally learn to do the Texas two-step (yes, both of us born and bred in Texas, yet we  had to go halfway around the world to learn how to dance to C&W music), then others hosted in our honor to attend, so that we could practice and perfect it!

John had lots and lots of photos around the island that he still wanted to take, and there were prints to be made before selling his enlarger; there were bank accounts to be closed and yet another air-freight trunk to be argued over and packed; a car to be tuned up and sold, and plants to be given away; and finally, the packers to prepare for.  Eventually we would end up right back where we started -- living in a hotel, and scrubbing an empty flat.  Forty-one days.

THE LONGEST MONTH: AN ULTIMATUM

Does this girl look the least bit threatening to you?

Dearest Friends,

When John headed out for his last (hopefully) gig offshore, things really went a little nuts.  First of all, I got word that Mom was headed to the hospital for emergency surgery.  She ended up having her gallbladder removed, which these days is usually a simple "bandaid" surgery, but back then was still a major-scar-leaving ordeal.  I felt so helpless, and guilty for not being there for her.  I really needed my hubby to be there at my side, saying "It's ok Becky.  She understands."

Not only was he not there, I'd gone eleven days without a single word from him!  Finally, several letters showed up at once, only, instead of saying "I should be on the next boat outta here", as I was expecting, he said "Looks like I'll be stuck here at least two more weeks."

The next day I awoke to find my refrigerator had conked out on me , and pretty much all my food was spoiled.  I spent the whole morning down in the souk, trying to find one to rent or buy, but to no avail.  Nothing in the newspaper or at the furniture store, either.  Nellie loaned me their big ice chest as a temporary fix, and another friend's hubby dropped off a bunch of ice when he heard of my predicament.  Then another fellow, who was fixin' to ship out, brought me his little dorm-style fridge.  Unfortunately, it had the wrong type plug on it, so I went in search of an adapter.  No luck on that front either.  According to my diary, I eventually "tried changing the plug out myself", which was quite a shock to read.  Not only do I have no memory of doing that, I wouldn't even have a clue how to go about it if you asked me to do it today!  I suppose it was a successful effort, for there is no further mention of refrigerator woes.

The high point of my month was going to a big farewell bash for one of the VPs.  Again we were at the infamous Pearl Restaurant, but this time, fortunately, we did not all end up with the Hershey Squirts. (yea!)  One of the construction foremen from offshore happened to be there as well, and he went out of his way to seek me out and tell me what a good engineer my hubby was.  Of course, I'd always suspected as much, but it's ever so nice to get confirmation from an unbiased third party!  I walked around with a stupid grin on my face the rest of the evening.

When John had been gone right at a month, I think I may have run into his supervisor, Dennis Chow, at a baseball game.  He was somewhat sleight in stature,  and I may have teasingly grabbed him by his lapels, and may have jokingly made some silly little threats about what I might do to him if my hubby wasn't on that next boat.  He was.

PAINFUL GOODBYES AND CRITICAL CROSSROADS

Dearest Friends,

It was mid-June when John came home next, and Paula and Tim had already packed up their house and moved into a hotel.  We had them, and Nellie and Dave, over for one last dinner party.  The next day John spent the whole afternoon printing up some photos he had taken of them, then we went to their hotel to give them the photos and say our goodbyes.  We found them completely discombobulated, for they had received a surprising call from one of the B&R VP's, who just happened to be the brother-in-law of one of Tim's best buddies.   I'm going to let Paula tell you about that in her own words:

"The night we were to fly home, all of our things were already headed to the states on a ship.  Tim got a call from Tony, his friend that was a vp in the marine division.  He said there was a job in Labuan, an island off the coast of Singapore, where Tim would be the safety guy and I would be the teacher for all of the grades. When we asked if we could stop by there on the way home we were told no. Then when we met with the guy that was in Singapore, he was a total ass.  It was hard to wrap your mind around going home and then change overnight and not be sure where you would work or who with, and I knew I could not teach the high school kids!  So we thought and thought, and decided to not take it. Now, if we had been able to go visit and had loved it, our whole lives might have been different !!!!"

All I can say is, I'm awfully glad they didn't, for their own lives weren't the only ones that could have been drastically different.  If not for them being in Houston with us when I had my third miscarriage in a row, and knowing someone who knew someone who'd gone through something similar and found this certain doctor who had figured out what was going on, John and I might still be childless!

Anyhoo, they ended up catching their plane to Houston,  John caught his boat for what would turn out to be his longest stretch ever offshore, and I geared up for my final week of working at Beaute'.

MISS BECKY THE PRUDE

This close, I tell you!

Dearest Friends,

I'm not sure if my hubby realizes this, but we once came this close to missing out on the friendship of a lifetime!  It was towards the end of our time in Bahrain, when everyone's careers were up in the air, and we were all feeling more than a bit frazzled.

John had left to go back offshore a few days before, and I had driven out to the compound to visit with Paula and Nellie while they both dyed their hair.  Nellie ended up inviting me to stay for dinner, and afterwards, Paula and Tim came back over for dessert and after dinner drinks.

When everyone, except Miss Becky of course, had several drinks under their belts, the subject of the Sheik's private parties came up.  They were all bemoaning the fact that they would have to leave Bahrain without ever having experienced one, when I piped up with "S and BD got invited to one not long ago, and the Sheikh gave them each a fancy gold watch as a party favor!"  Tim came back with something like "That's no party favor.  That's a reward for services rendered.", and that's when the shit hit the fan.  I knew he was half drunk, and should have just laughed it off, but noooooooo.  Miss Becky had to defend her friend's honor and make him eat those words!  She was not successful.  Instead he just laughed at my haughty righteousness and continued to egg me on.  I got so pissed that I grabbed my purse and stomped out, swearing I would never speak to "that damn Toad" again, for the rest of my live long days! (Yes, I really was that big of a prude when I was young.)

Tim probably didn't even remember that conversation the next morning, but fortunately for us all, Paula must have.  The next day he went out of his way to seek me out and apologize for being an ass, and to tell me it was just the booze talking and he we sure BD would never do anything such as he had implied.  And we've all been best friends ever since!

SEPARATION ANXIETY

Dearest Friends,

It took a while to sink in, but finally it hit us -- we only had three months left in Bahrain.  Three months in which to spend as much time as possible with these people we had grown so close to; to wrap up loose ends at work; to organize and clean and make repairs at home; to figure out what was going home with us, and what needed to be sold, given away or disposed of; to see all the things in Bahrain we hadn't got around to visiting yet, and return to the places we most enjoyed.  The list went on and on.  I must have felt quite overwhelmed at the thought of it all, for a couple of weeks later, I gave my boss one month's notice.

Another quandary was, what few mementos did we most want to take home with us?  It didn't take my hubby long to figure out what he wanted.  He headed straight down to Gold Street and the antique brass markets.  He bought a couple of nice things for us, but most was given away as gifts.  (How often does a Bohemian-hippie-gypsy-cowgirl have occasion to wear a fancy gold Egyptian collar?)  Too bad.  Perhaps we could have used some of that gold to bolster up our tanking retirement funds, with the way the economy is going these days!

 

Me, I headed down to the fabric stalls, to gather up a few of the more exotic offerings, then splurged and let one of the local tailors whip up some custom-designed pieces, since I couldn't sew much of anything without a pattern.

Guess I should have held onto more of those as well.  They could have filled a fantastic dress-up trunk for the kids and grandkids!

THE POINT OF NO RETURN

Dearest Friends,

In early May John sent me a letter, containing a handwritten copy of the resignation letter he had composed.  He wasn't certain yet, what he was going to do, but he asked me to type it up for him, just in case.

He'd only been gone about 16 days this time, when I got word that he might be in on the next boat.  Woohoo!  Early for once!  Too bad he would barely miss the last of Nellie's Mexican pot lucks.  I'd had it with that stupid "ski diet", so I threw caution to the wind, whipped up some Mexican rice and flour tortillas, and hitched a ride to the party with S & BD.  According to my diary, "I had a great time, and really gorged myself!"

The next day I got up early, changed linens and spiffed up the house, then drove out to the office to see when John's boat was expected in.  Afterwards I finished sewing the caftan I was making for him, and wrapped it all up, along with a few other anniversary gifts I had found for him.  We'd have to celebrate a few weeks early this year, before he went back offshore. 

He was supposed to get in by 8:00, but didn't show up until after midnight.  We stayed up talking most of the night, trying to figure out what we needed to do.  Finally, we came to a decision.  I dragged myself to work, and John went to the office -- to hand that resignation letter to his boss. Then we both prayed that we had made the right choice, cuz there was no going back now!

Yeah, I'm running out of pictures from Bahrain.  The top one is supposed to be John all happy to be getting home early, and this one is us, all pensive about the tough choice we needed to make.