I never considered myself as a military brat. My family never traveled around the world, following my dad wherever he went. He never really traveled outside of the states, so that's why we never saw the outside world. I never experienced going to several schools every two years, meeting new people, seeing new countries and experiencing new culture. That all changed in the ninth grade, when my parents announced that my dad got a job overseas and we were all going. “ We are moving to Bahrain”, they said. Bahrain? I have never heard of the place or even seen it on a map, but I was excited. We were finally leaving, not only are we leaving the state and country, we were also leaving our “shell”, a place where we stayed for so long without seeing the outside world.

The journey to Bahrain was one that I do not want to repeat. It was nearly a twenty four hour trip, with three stops between. Whenever I get asked how many countries I have been to, I always considered the stops we made; Naples,Greece, and Portugal. I may not have seen the outside of the airport, but I have technically have been there. The moment finally came when the plane landed, I stood up, trailed by my two younger brothers. Once the doors opened, I took in my new foreign home; gone was the color blue that touched the sky, it was replaced by orange and dust, green was too gone, also replaced by orange and beige sand. What hit me the most was the heat, I realized I wore the wrong attire for this weather, I left Washington state in winter so I was covered in layers of clothes, protecting me from cold, now all I really wanted was the cold.

We met with a man from the base who came to welcome and tour us around Bahrain. To keep my brothers and I entertained, he would tell us interesting facts about the Bahraini culture. Women who wear what are called abayas, wear it so only their family are allowed to see them. Abayas are mainly black robes that cover the whole body, protecting a woman from other eyes. With their abayas, they also wear what is called an hijab, a scarf that wraps around the head, its purpose is to cover the hair, sometimes abayas cover the whole face if the woman chooses to. The man also said that women had to be conservative with what they wear, so no revealing skin. To me, that was a huge shocker, how can women deal with nearly 100 degree weather and wear black robes? I know for sure it was something to get used to. He gave us a tour around the very small island, showing us the many different architectures we see on magazines advertising people to come to the island. I saw what women wearing the abayas, men wearing turbans and fancy white robes, we passed several mosques, each having their own significant structure to it, and finally, our hotel. As much as I was wanted to see more of my new home, fatigue overwhelmed me, I was in a different time zone.

Soon after we were settled, my brothers and I were enrolled in school. Before the big move, I was told that the school is like a military school, since all the dependents go there, I was also told that there was a strict dress code; everyone must wear sleeves that reach their elbows, no pants shorter than the knee with no holes. In my mind, I imagined the school to be what I saw in movies about military schools, dull and strict, with no color. I was wrong. The school was not dull, it had color throughout the hall, nor was it a military school, it was a private school. Dependents go free since the government pays for it, so rich Arab kids also go to the school. That was something I had to get used to. I never went to a school with rich kid before, so I had a taste of what it's like. They come from different arab countries, bringing in their own culture and background to the school. I befriended some, learning some history from their home country. My Palestinian friend, Reem, told me stories about the war in her country. Whenever she tells me, I noticed the pride she has in Palestine and her ethnicity, I noticed it in almost every arab I knew. I had a classmate, Abdullah, who was Libyan, during the many demonstrations in the Middle East, Libya played a large part. Abdullah would always say that he wants to fly back to his home and help fight with the people. It showed me how loyal arabs are for their home country, Reem taking pride for being Palestinian, Abdullah wanting to fight for his country though he is thousands of miles away.

Living in Bahrain, I had my share of real, authentic, arab cuisine. My first real authentic meal, was at a street corner around my house. My family and I were walking around our neighborhood, which was like a flea market, stands everywhere selling all types of things. We ate the first thing we thought looked good. It was called a shwarma, an arab version of a burrito without the beans. We ate it sitting on the sidewalk, like most of the people. It was awkward at first, until I noticed my dad casually eating, nothing seemed to bother him, so I played along. We got a few stares from the locals, who wouldn't stare at foreigners. It took time to get used to it, especially as a girl. My mom and I never wore the abayas, since we were in the military I assumed. But I still had to be conservative of my clothes. But no matter what I wore, locals knew I was a foreigner. I received stares from men and young girls, glares from women who wore the robe and abaya. I recall this moment when I was walking home from the bus stop, when a woman who was covered head to toe walked down the street. I said something to my brothers and she was close enough to hear me. Out of the corner of my eye, the woman walked forward but glances back at me, more at glares at me. I knew she glared because of my clothing, some Bahraini women believe that all women should be covered. The worst sometime were teenage boys. Luckily for me this experience happened only once. I was walking to my house with my brothers when two local teenage boys were behind us. I heard them whistling, it sounded more like a cat call. They kept on snickering until I turned the corner, I glance at them, and they winked at me. It had to do something with me being foreign.

Bahrain was the only place I have traveled during my high school years. I'm not like the other military kids in my school who leave every two years, starting over again, but experiencing a new country. I learned how to accept someone's background and ethnicity, without any judgement. Sometimes I wish we never left, I know it's important to see my family, but I actually miss the place, mainly my friend. It makes me laugh to think that when I left Washington, I missed my friends, when I moved back, I miss my only true friend in Bahrain. Then I have to start over in a new school. That's the thing about moving, you miss one school that you leave, then the situation reverses, when you leave another school. I have no regrets in Bahrain, only not being qualified to go to Germany for volleyball but that's all. Most of my favorite and unforgettable memories were there, memories I still think about sometimes.