Fresh food people

As a child, one of my favourite pastimes when visiting my grandparents in Pakistan was shopping. Of course, I loved shopping for the obvious 'girly' reasons - new clothes, new shoes, new jewellery... but apart from that, I loved to go grocery shopping too. Being used to mundane supermarket shopping in Australia, my five senses were utilized to their full potential in the markets of Karachi. At the utility store, my grandmother would buy all her spices, pulses and grains in bulk and speak to me about their different qualities and uses. And, at the markets, I would listen to my grandfather explain the difference between the dozen varieties of mangoes that were on offer (I have already written at length about my family's fascination with mangoes). We would smell our way through the market stalls before we decided on that one, premium, aromatic crate.

But, my market experiences weren't all good. Buying meat was one kind of shopping that I did my best to avoid. In those days, chickens would be slaughtered at roadside stalls and the task of selecting one chicken, to be plucked, skinned and beheaded right before my very eyes would render me almost unconscious. It would get worse when the chopped chicken would be handed over in a bag, still warm from its final heart beat. The very process revolted me. I could not touch that night's chicken biryani let alone any meat for weeks afterwards.

Those childhood memories have been flooding back to me these days. Whilst I usually shop for produce at the supermarket in Bahrain, when it's a pleasant 25oC outside, I cannot resist getting out and about to the various roadside fruit and vegetable stalls around our neighbourhood. Most of the fruit and veg stalls stock run of the mill varieties of carrots, cucumbers, tomatoes and apples but then they also have exotic vegetables in stock, some of which I don't even recognise let alone know how to cook.

And then there is the fisherman's stall that takes me back to those quease-inducing meat shopping days. M is a fan of fish, but only if it is fresh (me, not so much). He is convinced that this stall is as fresh as we can get (and even I have to admit that it's good). The fisherman turns up at the same spot every day with his many catches of the day, stored in a row of Eskies. Once you make a selection from a variety of local fish, you stand and wait whilst the fish is cleaned/gutted/de-boned/filleted to your liking. The stall is by no means hygienic looking and when you hand your cash over and wait for your change, you're not sure you really want it as the shopkeeper passes you a fishy five hundred fils note. You then bring the fish home and hope that cooking it at a high temperature will eradicate any possibility of food poisoning. I can happily report that there haven't been any issues to date.

Below, the fish filleter doing his thing:

Below, a basket of crabs at the fish stall.

   

Lulu update

Lulu is the Arabic word for Pearl, so the Pearl roundabout it also known as the "Lulu roundabout".

In Arabic culture (and I suppose in every other culture as well) a pearl signifies something very precious. I guess it could also be seen as a symbol for those that have been camped at the roundabout (for two weeks now) for what they view as a 'precious' cause. I drove past again yesterday and there is still plenty of action and folks are well and truly settled in what the Government is regarding as a shanty town. There seems to be something of a stalemate with their negotiations, as neither the protesters nor the Government look as though they are going to compromise, although there have been some developments with the appointment of a couple of new Government Ministers.

A friend of mine who lives in a building only metres away from the Pearl has had to temporarily relocate, not because she is concerned about her safety, but because of all the noise; loudspeakers, lights, cameras and mics all over the place.

Another pic from my drive-by yesterday:

@ Pearl

Everyone's been talking about Pearl roundabout - this is where the protests began and where they remain. It is now an amazingly organized sit-in, as people have set up tents, food stalls have sprung up and the rather large roundabout which usually takes us towards the major shopping centres now resembles a carnival.

In an average week, I pass by this place at least twice, to attend various children's activities or to get to the shopping malls. Since the protests began, I hadn't ventured out that way. A couple of my friends had visited Bahrain's 'Tahrir square' over the last week out of curiosity more than anything and they told me that it was quite amazing. I couldn't imagine the transformation of this ordinary, run-of-the-mill intersection to a vibrant hive of political activity, so I decided that I had to see it with my very own eyes.

I ventured out this morning for a quick drive-by, I was amazed. People are peaceful. Pots of tea were being boiled on a makeshift gas stove, food was being cooked on one side whilst a man handed out flyers and bottles of water on another. Blasting out of a louspeaker was a woman's voice, making what I could only guess to be an impassioned speech about the cause. Traffic was running better than it ordinarily does as protesters took turns to assist with directing vehicles. I can now almost picture what Egypt's Tahrir square must have been like.

We've received notification from the British Embassy that another demonstration is scheduled for this afternoon and will go from the Pearl roundabout towards the Grand mosque. I'm not sure what the weekend ahead has in store. Hopefully resolution is on the way.

I took a couple of pics from my car, not particularly impressive photography, but worth sharing.

The Pearl that you see in the background of this pic is at the centre of the roundabout. Tents have been put up all around it:

The pic below is of a tea stall - there are photographs hanging in front of it, I think of people who died in earlier clashes:

This website and specifically, the article on Bahrain is worth a look:
Middle East Report