Salmaniya Hospital

I woke up with a hole in my retina, and sparkling floaters and blurred bits in my eye. I walked to Salmaniya Hospital - I was unfit to drive with my eye.
For six months Salmaniya Hospital has had controversial press coverage - medical staff were arrested and detained during the civil unrest in the Spring. I was a little bit worried the soldiers on the gate would think I was some sort of snooping reporter - come to hunt out a sensationalist story for one of the Great British papers - but I was ignored walking through. I wandered past Oncology and Kidneys and Maternity - I didn't know where I was going -
Finally I picked up the courage to ask a guard for directions. He pointed out where I should go. He advised me to jump the queue at Reception.
The Emergency Eye Clinic was busy and bustling. The staff were thorough, efficient and kind. I sat on a hard chair and waited my turn. Just like any other hospital, really.

Evacuation

Nick's company has asked us to leave Bahrain until the thing settles down. Women and children first. They have offered us open ended tickets. They will fly us out ASAP. I've told the children to pack their school shoes for my sister's school in NI has kindly offered to educate them while they are refugees.
Of course I'm rather exhausted with the stress of living in a war zone - until the military moved in there were a shaky few days when I wore an abaya and headscarf and sunglasses when I went out to the shops - rogue protesters were attacking ex-pats....
"Take your flute, Maud," I said, "Aunt Lesley's school has an orchestra."
"Shin pads Rex, they play football."
"Plastic coat, Florence, it rains every day."
"Beatrice you don't really think you're going to wear shorts and sandals in Ireland in March?"

TEFL

Bahraini youth have been leaving their secondary schools to march in the streets of Bahrain. I met a march of young ladies this morning, they shouted at me: "Get out of our country." Nick met a group of young men. They shouted at him: "Death to the Kalifa's (Bahrain's ruling family)."
Good to know English as a Foreign Language is being taught to such a high standard in Bahrain's secondary schools

Normality?

It has been a curious week, since the start of the civil unrest in Bahrian - people I thought I knew really well have been doing and saying the most curious things.
For example, my friend - a staunch Socialist - is furious with the (civil rights) protesters because her organic shampoo is finished and she's too alarmed to drive past Pearl Roundabout into town to buy more.
Yesterday at the primary school a few teachers left before lunch to avoid the late afternoon march.
Pony Club is half full and some hard riding women who take falls with composure have fled Bahrain entirely.
Before they left they said: "We're suffering from low grade exhausting anxiety. We have butterflies in our tummies. We wake up each morning with a sickening feeling of dread. The noise of the helicopters is deafening. We are afraid of the troops on the street..."
I struggled to understand.
I said: "But the helicopters are here to keep you safe - they're looking out for trouble makers. And the tanks and the road blocks and the armed police and the army are here for your protection. You should feel safe not afraid!"
To which they replied: "You grew up in Northern Ireland during the Troubles... This was your normality. This is not normal for us."

Trouble

We're two streets away from the trouble. Heard gun shots on Valentine's Night, first time in years but you never forget.
Tuesday morning the man who cleans cars on our street asked could he hide in the garden - they were shooting on the main road.
Last night was noisy with helicopters and tear gas and guns as the army broke up the party at Pearl Roundabout -
We think there may be a curfew tonight.